Desolation

Living on an island gives one a certain feeling of desolation. It wasn't until today I took into consideration the lives of those who live away from the bustling cities, the ports, and the traffic. Coming from Iowa, I find it difficult to label a place as "isolated" or "desolate" though Tasmania most certainly has me convinced. Once you get away from the north and east coasts, there is nothing. There are hundreds of kilometers of sheep grazing land, rivers, and rain forests. I've traveled nearly the entire mainland of the US, and nothing compares to the feeling of desolation I got out here. Of course it doesn't help that the people on this island are descendants of British prisoners, many of whom are probably still a bit peeved about being left stranded on the island. I had to check my fuel gauge when I went through every town to make sure I could make it to the next without any conceivable way of running out on the way there. I was frankly afraid to stop and take photos on certain parts of the road. There were stretches of hiway that I wouldn't see any traffic -- from either direction -- for 30-45 minutes at a time. It's quite scary when all you can see is hills and sheep for hours. However, the forests smelled incredible and I've never been to a place as quiet as the hills. I want to write more but my room is finally getting warm and I'm tired. Good night, and enjoy the photos.