Today was a moving day.  I left Sydney, taking with me very fond memories and headed to Tasmania.  I’d been worried before I left for Australia that I was spending too much time in Sydney.  It isn’t the greatest golfing city in Australia and my schedule elsewhere was packed.  As I left, I wished I had more time to spend there.  It’s a wonderful city.  Beautiful but spikey, cultured but grounded, lively but calming.  A really pleasant surprise for me.  So far as I’m concerned those comparisons to New York are way off beam.  This is San Francisco, with a better coastline and better history.

Sadly, after a week of superb weather, Sydney said goodbye with a damp handshake:

Today was, of course, a defining day in US, and possibly world history.  As I left Sydney the weather was grey but there was bright news from the USA. The fivethirtyeight website had HIlary Clinton with a 76% chance of being president.  By the time I landed in Melbourne to change for Launceston, that was 56% and I was beginning to worry.  When I arrived in Launceston, the deed was done.  The most powerful nation on Earth had elected a xenophobic, racist, misogynist, self confessed sex offender as its president.  At least the weather in Tasmania was better than in Sydney.

I flew to Launceston so that I could play the two modern courses at Barnbougle: Barnbougle Dunes and Lost Farm.  Both are ranked in the top 5 in Australia and Barnbougle Dunes in the top 50 in the world.  Barnbougle is closest to Bridport, Dorset, Tasmania.  About an hours drive North from Launceston.  The route my sat nav took me on included several kilometers of dirt track:

and took me along one of the Tasmanian Wine Trails.  Fortunately, it was 5pm by the time I landed and all the wineries were closed as I drove past.

I found my AirB&B quite easily and introduced myself to the owners.  The place is fantastic.  For a bit less than I paid for a room with a comfy bed in Sydney, I get what is basically an apartment.   With sea view:

Having checked in, I decided to visit Barnbougle, as a scouting visit and to get a bite to  eat.  As the sun was setting, what I saw whetted my appetite for tomorrow:

I grabbed a bite to eat in the Barnbougle Dunes bar, before heading off to Lost Farm, where the Sports Bar was showing, amongst several other events, England’s first test in India.  That was going remarkably well.  Joe Root, who some Australians still mistakenly think of as a soft English cricketer was in the process of making a century and Moeen Ali, hopefully, another.  Even better, I bumped into a quite inebriated but very enjoyable bunch of golfers from Brisbane who were playing immediately before me tomorrow.  Sadly, both of the blokes that I had hoped to play with tomorrow had had to duck out.  Scotty and his mates from Brisbane were insistent I join them in the morning and I will.

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