Hiking Tasmania's Bay of Fires

Martha was heavyset, annoying and high maintenance. I had named my hiking pack to make her less formidable but it wasn’t working. On a four-day Tasmanian Walking Company trip in the Bay of Fires, Tasmania, I was the youngest in the group, and the slowest. Lonny, 83, was putting me to shame. She was powering on, uncomplaining, while I grappled with borrowed hiking poles and longed to ditch Martha in the sand.

I like to think I am fit and a fairly experienced hiker. But truth be told, I was a hiker 10 years ago and my body had been through a lot since then, including kids and injuries. Autumn colds had prevented me from any sort of training to prepare, and it showed.

On the unforgettable Ansons Bay to Eddystone Point Lighthouse Walk, Bay of Fires, Tasmania.

We’d started our trip in Launceston, driving three hours to Stumpy’s Bay in the North-Eastern tip of the state. On the drive we got a hint of things to come, passing a wallaby, a wedge-tailed eagle and an indignant flock of black cockatoos. The first day was more challenging than I expected. While the beautiful, endless white-sand beaches were sublime to behold, the combination of joint-jolting sand walking and my overweight pack were making their presence felt. But by the time we reached Forester’s Beach Camp a hard-won 10km later, I was reminded why hiking trips are worth it.

We’d made it. There’s a special camaraderie among hikers who’ve toiled together to reach their goal, even ones who’ve never met before. Our group included four friends catching up plus four women travelling alone. Once we ditched our packs and hiking boots, we all went for a swim. Yes, the water in April was briskly cold but we were so overjoyed at arriving we needed to do something wild to celebrate. After that, we layered up with our thermals and jackets, anticipating a cold night getting down to around 6°C.

Our tireless leaders were Alice and B, young outdoorsy types who shared stories about the area and wildlife, looked after us and cooked us delicious meals to boot. From the moment we met them we knew we were in safe hands.

The camp was tucked away in the scrubby beach dunes of Mount William National Park, simple but well-equipped with proper showers, composting toilets, a full kitchen and twin-share accommodation somewhere in between a cabin and a canvas tent.

Around the dinner table, drinking Tassie wines and enjoying a hearty meal seemingly whipped up out of nowhere, we got to know each other quickly and laughed a lot. The dinner itself was delicious, with a large portion of nuoc cham chicken and noodles, and a chocolate mousse for dessert.

After a chilly night, we were woken up by the pinks and yellows of a spectacular sunrise. Coffee and hearty porridge warmed us up and prepared us for another intensive day of walking. Soon after leaving camp, we passed a sacred Indigenous living site made up of shells, bones and ash, a reminder that people had lived off this land for 40,000 years. Alice did a timeline in the sand, reminding us non-Indigenous people in Australia have been here for a blink of an eye in comparison. I’d assumed the Bay of Fires was named for the vivid orange lichen on the granite rocks, but it was actually named by an English navigator in 1773 when he saw fires burning along the coast, lit by the Indigenous people.

Next, we passed what looked like white cogs eroded by the wind and waves poking out of the sand, enormous bones from a beached whale years ago. Later that day, we paused to watch a pair of wedge-tailed eagles dance and play in the sky.

What we didn’t see? Other hikers. This walk felt wild and remote. Both the camp and lodge were far away from any other signs of habitation, and the only other people we saw in the four days out there were a set of fisherman and some distant surfers. I didn’t have phone reception the entire time, a refreshing reprieve from pings, socials and emails. We all relished the opportunity to take a break from the world and to-do lists.

Although the second day was a longer walk, at 16km, it felt easier. The harder sand helped, and I carried a little less water weight in my pack. We clambered over rocks and around headlands, striding along never-ending beaches, making sure, steady progress.

The Bay of Fires Lodge, Ansons Bay

The bliss we’d felt the day before on arriving at camp was doubled when we arrived at the Bay of Fires Lodge, Ansons Bay. Not only had we walked further but the lodge offered plenty look forward to. A beautiful, solar-powered building made of pale Tasmanian hardwood and plantation pine, the lodge is set on a hill 40 metres above the beach. The view stretched far beyond the Eddystone Point Lighthouse we’d passed hours before. As with the beach camp, supplies have to be brought in by boat, helicopter or on foot.

One building housed our rooms and shared amenities, another the large kitchen, living room and deck. Before long we were rugged up in front of the fireplace. By the time we’d polished off another delicious dinner (Teriyaki fish and rice, followed by apple crumble), we’d let our sore muscles relax and were swapping big, personal stories and setting the world to rights. I’ve been on group trips where I’ve felt like the quiet, awkward extra person who doesn’t click with anyone. This time I was comfortable and it felt like our group had been friends for years instead of days.

The rooms were simple, with large uncovered louvered windows. We passed another cold night lulled asleep by the sound of waves, an echo of the swell we'd walked by all day.

We would return to the lodge again after the next day’s activity, so I gratefully left Martha behind. We did a lazy kayak down Ansons Bay, taking a moment of mindfulness to stop, breathe and take in the ripples on the water and sounds of birdsong. Our guides pointed out an eagle’s nest high up in the treetops the size of a queen mattress. Locals say it has been in use by generations of eagles for 60 years. After another healthy picnic lunch, we headed back to the lodge for an afternoon of relaxing or enjoying a massage at the in-house spa.

The next morning was also free for relaxing but I took one last exploration on the rocks on Bay Beach, not wanting to stop hiking now I’d started. On leaving the lodge, we donned our packs for one last time for the short hike to meet our shuttle back to Launceston.

This trip found the perfect level of luxury: homemade cakes for afternoon tea and Tassie wines with dinner, but enough outdoor fun and unfussy accommodation to feel close to nature and far away from the rest of the world. Extremely well-organised, it allowed us to be fully present, focus on our surroundings and surrender control. We didn’t have to worry about the weather or food, or indeed make any sort of decisions whatsoever. The perfect antidote to the busyness of everyday life, it was a deeply restful experience, despite the physical challenge.