Why you should probably ignore the tourism brochures about Tasmania’s weather

Stop looking at the Instagram photos of Wineglass Bay with the turquoise water and the white sand. Those photos are a lie. Well, they aren’t a lie, but they represent about four days out of the entire year. If you show up in January expecting a tropical paradise, you are going to be miserable when a southerly buster hits and the temperature drops from 30 degrees to 12 in the span of twenty minutes. I’ve lived through it. It’s not fun.

Everyone tells you to go to Tasmania in the summer. They say “go in January for the Rolex Sydney Hobart Yacht Race” or “go in February for the best hiking weather.” I think they’re mostly wrong. Summer in Tassie is crowded, overpriced, and the wind—god, the wind—feels like it’s trying to peel the skin off your face. I know people will disagree with me on this, especially the local businesses that make all their money in those three months, but summer is the worst time to actually see the island. It’s just too loud.

The summer trap and my own stupidity

I learned this the hard way in November 2019. Now, technically November is late spring. The brochures say it’s a “lovely time to see the wildflowers.” I decided to drive up to the pinnacle of Mt. Wellington (kunanyi) in shorts and a t-shirt because it was 22 degrees in the Hobart CBD. By the time I reached the 1,271-meter summit, it was 2 degrees with a wind chill that brought it down to minus 6. There was horizontal sleet. I had to sit in my rental car for 45 minutes with the heater on full blast just to get enough sensation back in my fingers to grip the steering wheel for the drive down. I felt like a complete idiot. Because I was one.

What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently: Tasmania doesn’t have seasons in the way the rest of the world does. It has moods. And in the summer, the mood is erratic. You’ll spend $400 a night for a mediocre Airbnb in Bicheno just to be surrounded by thousands of other people trying to find a parking spot at the Freycinet visitor center. It’s not the wilderness experience you’re looking for. It’s a theme park with worse coffee.

The two-week window that actually matters

If you want the real Tasmania, you go in late March or April. Specifically, the last two weeks of April. This is when the “Turning of the Fagus” happens. The Fagus (Nothofagus gunnii) is this weird, prehistoric deciduous beech tree that only grows in Tassie, and for a few weeks, the mountainsides turn this incredible rust-orange and gold. It’s spectacular. I tested my patience and hiked the Loop Track at Lake St Clair three years in a row to catch it at the exact right moment. In 2021, the peak color lasted exactly 9 days.

The air in April is different. It’s still, it’s crisp, and the light has this honey-thick quality that makes everything look like a painting.

The crowds are gone. The grey nomads have mostly packed up their caravans and headed back north to Queensland. You can actually get a table at a pub in Strahan without a reservation. The temperature sits at a reliable 14 to 16 degrees during the day. Perfect for walking. You won’t sweat through your shirt, and you won’t die of hypothermia. Usually.

• Late March: Best for foodies. The harvest is in. The apples are actually crisp, not the mealy garbage you get in supermarkets.
• April: The Fagus. The light. The quiet.
• Early May: Risky, but the morning frosts are beautiful if you’re into photography.

A hill I will die on: Stop taking the ferry

I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent here, but it relates to timing. People think the “best” way to get to Tassie is taking the Spirit of Tasmania ferry from Geelong. They think it’s romantic. It’s not. It’s a floating Petri dish. I’ve done the crossing four times, and three of those times involved me staring at a fixed point on the horizon trying not to vomit while a child screamed nearby. It’s expensive, it’s slow, and if you go in the “best” time (summer), the Bass Strait is often at its choppiest.

I might be wrong about this, but I genuinely think the ferry is a scam for people who are afraid of car rentals. Just fly into Launceston, rent a beat-up Corolla, and save yourself 10 hours of diesel fumes and overpriced buffet food. Anyway, back to the weather.

The West Coast is a different planet

When you’re planning your timing, you have to realize that the East and West are not the same country. Hobart gets about 600mm of rain a year. It’s actually one of the driest capital cities in Australia. But the West Coast? Places like Queenstown or Rosebery get nearly 2,500mm. That is a staggering amount of water.

I used to think that going to the West Coast in winter was a mistake. I was completely wrong. I went to Corinna in July last year—dead of winter—and it was the best trip of my life. Yes, it rained. It rained for 48 hours straight. But the rainforest looks better when it’s dripping. The greens are deeper. The moss looks like it’s vibrating. If you go in the height of summer, the rainforest looks… thirsty. It’s wrong.

One thing though: do not, under any circumstances, try to drive the Murchison Highway in a heavy frost if you aren’t used to black ice. I saw a van slide clean off the road near Tullah because they thought they could do 100km/h in July. They were fine, but the van was toast. Total write-off.

Is winter actually worth it?

Short answer: Yes, but only if you’re a specific kind of person. If you need 20-degree days to feel like you’re on vacation, stay away. But if you like the idea of sitting by a massive stone fireplace with a glass of Lark whisky while the wind howls outside, winter is king.

Dark Mofo (the big winter festival in June) has become a bit of a circus lately. I’ll say it: I’m over it. It’s too many people from Sydney wearing expensive black puffer jackets and pretending to be edgy because they saw a dead cow in an art gallery. The prices in Hobart double for those two weeks. If you want to do winter, go in August. It’s the cheapest month to visit, the snow is usually at its peak on the mountains, and you’ll have the hiking trails entirely to yourself.

I tracked my spending on a 5-day trip in August versus a 5-day trip in January. The August trip cost me $1,140 total. The January trip? $2,450. Same car, similar accommodation. It’s a no-brainer if you’re on a budget.

Actually, I should probably shut up about August. If too many people start going then, they’ll ruin that too.

At the end of the day, Tassie is going to do whatever it wants. You can plan for the “best” time and still get four seasons in an hour. It’s happened to me more times than I can count. I once had a picnic at Bay of Fires in February where we had to hold the blanket down with rocks because the wind was so strong, only for it to turn into a dead-calm, 30-degree scorcher ten minutes later.

I guess what I’m saying is: go in April. Bring a jacket you actually trust. And for the love of god, don’t take the ferry.

Does anyone actually enjoy the ferry, or are we all just pretending?