Forty per cent of this island is national park and reserve, and none of it is far away. This chapter is what people do with that — season by season, because in Tasmania the seasons are not weather. They are the calendar.
The island rearranges itself four times a year, and nowhere else in this collection is the gap between February and June this wide. What each quarter does to your plans:
Daylight until nine at night and every track open. Book the east coast months ahead — accommodation there is scarcest and dearest now, and the shacks are all in use.
The most settled walking weather of the year, cold nights, and the fagus turning gold in the highlands — Australia’s only native deciduous tree, and a short window.
Short days, snow to low levels and highland roads that want chains or close outright. Cheapest months to travel, and Ben Lomond’s runs open in a good July.
The windiest and least predictable quarter — four seasons in a day is a literal forecast. Alpine tracks reopen, wildflowers start, and rates stay low until December.
Come for a winter interview if you can. Anyone can love Tasmania in February; the question worth answering before you move is how you feel about July. What happens in each season is below.
The wild west
Cradle Mountain is the postcard for a reason: dolerite spires over a glacial lake, wombats on the boardwalks, and the Overland Track running six days south through the World Heritage wilderness. Ninety minutes from the north-west towns, four hours from Hobart — close enough that locals go for the day and feel slightly guilty about it. Beyond it, takayna / the Tarkine spreads one of the largest temperate rainforests on earth toward a coast that takes the Roaring Forties head-on.
The east coast
The island’s holiday coast: Freycinet’s pink granite and the climb to the Wineglass Bay lookout, the Bay of Fires’ orange-lichened boulders on white sand, and Maria Island’s car-free wildlife sanctuary a ferry ride out. It is two hours from either city, which is why the Tasmanian shack — the modest family holiday house — clusters here. Summer books out; autumn has the coast to itself.
Close to home
The everyday wilderness is the island’s quiet luxury. From Hobart: kunanyi’s summit and foothill tracks, Bruny Island’s oysters and sea cliffs via the Kettering ferry, Mount Field’s waterfalls an hour out, and the Tasman Peninsula’s Three Capes cliffs — with Port Arthur’s sobering, essential history — ninety minutes away. From Launceston: the Cataract Gorge is literally in town, the Tamar’s cellar doors twenty minutes out, and Ben Lomond’s ski runs an hour up the hill in a good July.
The festival year
Ten weekends, to start
- Cradle Mountain and the Dove Lake circuit, wombats included
- Freycinet: the Wineglass Bay lookout, then oysters at the water’s edge
- The Bay of Fires, walked slowly, thermos in hand
- Bruny Island via the Kettering ferry — cheese, oysters, the Neck at dusk
- kunanyi’s summit by road, then down the Organ Pipes track
- Port Arthur and the Tasman Peninsula’s sea cliffs
- Mount Field: Russell Falls and the tall-tree forests, an hour from town
- A Tamar Valley cellar-door crawl from Launceston
- Maria Island’s car-free loop — wildlife at walking pace
- Dark Mofo’s Winter Feast, booked the week tickets open
Nine chapters on Tasmania. Everything national — Medicare, visas, registration, tax, super, schools — lives once in Moving to Australia. When you’re ready to talk about roles on the island, send us your CV.