Kettering is such a pretty, tiny town. It really just consists of a bay and some boats. I loved the quiet there and the remarkable view of the stars in the night sky. It was also a great location from which to head out and explore some of the stunning scenery that Tasmania has to offer.
We went on a lot of driving adventures. My Prince was always behind the wheel, but I was impressed with how much being a passenger I could tolerate. Sometimes, CRPS makes even a short trip as a passenger incredibly painful, however all of these years of learning to manage my pain and associated anxieties really paid off on this trip. Plus, there was the removal of all of those other things that I mentioned in the previous post (those necessary to life tasks) that usually zap my strength before I get to the fun stuff.
We drove around the countryside and the oceanside. Southern Tasmania has such beautiful landscapes to explore. We stopped regularly when we saw pretty things, or when our legs needed stretching. Clocks just aren’t necessary on holidays that are geared towards relaxation, it was far more rewarding to just amble around and find what we found.
Things like this dried out wallaby carcass that looked suspiciously like a Tasmanian Tiger…I’m raising my eyebrow at you, extinction.
Things like these stunning bays and colourful rocks.
Things like 200 year old churches and cemeteries (who doesn’t love an old cemetery?), hills and valleys that appeared to have marched straight off of a milk carton, birds that I’d never even seen before and towns like Cygnet, which has a 24 hour emergency butcher.
There is probably a rational explanation for such a thing, but it just makes me picture drunk locals thumping on the door at 3am screaming “I need a steak NOW! It’s an emergency, dammit, my beer to steak ratio is all wrong!”
Tasmania was a great place for me to holiday because, despite not being able to hike places like a healthy version of me would have loved doing, there was a lot that I could see without walking too far from the car. We drove down through the Huon valley, which is rather picturesque. Somewhere near the bottom, we adventured to the highest and lowest points of our trip.
This view (achieved via car)…
And this view (achieved via clutching rails and writing off the next day to ankle rehab)…
My ankle was totally done in at this point. The strangest thing about my adventure induced original site ankle flare was that it remained just in that original region. CRPS first struck me on the right side, from my toes to about midway up my calf. It’s easy to forget this because I generally have generalised pain accompanying everything these days, however there is a reason that CRPS has “regional” in it. The ankle gave me grief for the next couple of days, but I can’t help thinking that the fresh ocean air helped to keep it in its place. Usually, those flares last much longer and quickly mirror to the other leg and then up into my arms.
My spirit for adventure was not going to be stopped by a stupid one region flare, no Sirree! My Prince and I needed to relax and rejuvenate and the next day we headed into Hobart and spent an afternoon at the only actual spa that we could find in the vicinity.
Seriously, guys, a place where you get facials and massages is not a spa if there are no tubs of bubbly water there! Who approved this word appropriation? Because I disagree strongly. If facials count as a spa, then what am I supposed to called actual spas? Steaming wet pits? Those sound like the start of a deodorant commercial. Is it because “massage parlour” sounds sexy? Because if you are mainly going there to get massaged then that’s where you’re going, better get comfortable enough that you can handle a name with a history of use by under the radar prostitutes. Logically, they have more right to use “massage” than massage therapists have to use “spa”. Alternatively, I’ll help you out with a new start…you’re going to a pamper palace. Enjoy your pamper palaces and stop making it so difficult for me to find a tub of hot, aerated water. Seriously.
Rants aside, the spa that we visited (Savoy Day Spa) was really quite delightful. It was located in the basement of an old bank in Hobart. We spent most of an afternoon rotating between the salt water pool, the actual spa spa, the steam room and the sauna. I could tolerate the steam room more than I would have expected to have been able to, but the dry sauna? Not so much. That’s a bit of an owie burn. The pool was my favourite part, bobbing around in salt water always seems to help put me back on a healing path.
I need to get one of those pools in my backyard, anyone wanna spot me the thousands of dollars that would cost? Aww, come on…I’ll even consider indecent proposals, that is how much having my own salt water pool would help me manage my pain at home. Also, I just kind of want to hear how indecent you’re willing to get, for my own sick amusement…
We were so in need of that relaxation that once we were spa-ed out, we basically floated out of the basement and back to the car. At which point, we proceeded to not even be able to find the right road back to Kettering and ended up on a not entirely unenjoyable windy drive that took us most of the way up Mt Wellington before we eventually figured out where we’d gone wrong. Sometimes, when the body releases tension, it lets go of a significant amount of brain power right along with it.
My body started to behave better after I’d taken some time out to be nice to it. My ankle didn’t exactly leave me alone, but it did calm down. The next day was for being sleepy and listening to the rain on the cottage roof. After that, though, I was ready for another adventure, pain or not…
Love & Adventures,
P.S. I’m feeling quite a bit better than the shrivelled mess that I was yesterday. The evisceration has eased off and I can even stand up almost straight! More stretching, pacing and Feldenkrais today…I can bounce back quickly, I can!