The three of us went down to old family stomping grounds: the Tasman Peninsula. It's where my father was from. I spent days as a child driving down there in the back of one of the various Holden cars, visiting a string of relatives, with my parents deciding which relative had to be included that trip, and which had to be left out so we could get home at a decent hour. The trips always ended in the dark, I often felt car-sick, and of course, it was regular family 'turf' so I really paid no attention to its quite extraordinary beauty. Nowadays, few relatives live there, it's a fairly depressed area, but now I am aware of its beauty. As a teenager, I went to this area because it was accessible from forestry trails. Now it's part of extensive tracks which attract tourists from the other side of the world. Thr track is a five hour walk, there and back, without allowing for photographic halts.