When I was young, around 18 or 19, I went with a friend to back-pack around the island of Tasmania (also known as Tassie, pronounced Tazzie). We were students at university, and it was our first “solo” holiday. We carried everything on our backs, and stayed in YHA Youth Hostels, of which Tassie had plenty, more or less circling the island. Tasmania is beautiful, with stunning wild places, many of which were accessible to us.

Photo by justin-clark-on-unsplash

The youth hostels were cheap and well run — everyone was given daily chores — and in excellent locations.

We went to Tassie by ferry from Melbourne, disembarking in Devonport. We travelled aound the island by various means — postal vans, an occasional bus, but mainly we hitched lifts (though we never told our parents that.)

As it turned out, a lot of other young people were doing the same thing, and we often met up with the same people at each hostel.

We got pally with a couple of boys, a few years older than us — they had real jobs — and were mad-keen hikers and bushwalkers.

Tassie is such a beautiful place, and we had a wonderful time, doing lots of bushwalking and exploring — not with the boys, who tended to turn every walk into a race — but just enjoying the scenery, much of which is wild, pristine and absolutely stunning.

Photo by Tim Lippis on Unsplash

When we got to Hobart (the state capital) the boys were dead keen to go to the Wrest Point Casino. It was the first legal casino in Australia, and hadn’t been open very long, so it was still a novelty. My friend and I weren’t interested, but the boys were. The problem was, the casino had a strict dress code — smart casual wear: no jeans, a jacket, collared shirt and tie for men, and no sports shoes or runners. No backpacker was travelling with that sort of clothing.

The hostel, having faced this issue before, had laid in a stack of used jackets, pants, ties and so on for people to borrow. The boys got dressed up, but the trouble was, there was only one tie left. What to do? 

My hasty imitation tie

 

 

 

 

I whipped out a clean pair of navy blue tights and looped it around the tie-less boy’s neck, tucking the waist part under his collar and jacket. I tied the legs in a Windsor Knot (years of school uniforms with ties had made me an expert) and he tucked the feet into his waistband.

It looked surprisingly okay — see this photo, which I took this morning — though he was pretty dubious about it and half expected not to be allowed in. So off they went.

Next morning we saw them at breakfast and the first thing he said to me was “It worked!” and we all laughed.

And if you’re wondering why I’m telling you this story, the upcoming Romance Writers of Australia is being held at the Wrest Point Casino in Hobart, so of course I remembered the story of the tie-that-wasn’t. I never did visit that Casino — or any other— but I will have to now, though I won’t be gambling.

I checked, and the casino still has a dress code, though not quite as strict. I did laugh at the rule that all visitors must wear shoes. Tassie is the southernmost part of Australia — next stop Antarctica — and it’s cold, so I can’t imagine not wearing shoes, but clearly some people need to be told.

But if you ever get to Tasmania, skip the casino and head for the beautiful wild countryside and the gorgeous  coastal areas.  (That’s Cradle Mountain in the background — a bushwalker’s delight.)