Darren the sheep farmer I met in Cressy gave me directions to Ross via the Hummocky Hills: “It’s gravel some of the way but a good road- farmers mostly. Turn right after a few kilometers, if the road says Powranna you’ve gone too far but you can still get to Ross via Conaia.”

I got lost, taking the Lake River Road, I had traveled uphill a few kilometers when a women in a Range Rover stopped to tell me that the road ahead was a dead end. Oh well, it was a wonderful day riding through hilly farmland with a tailwind.

The gravel sections of the road were free of traffic. I watched as a late-morning wombat trotted across the road ahead intent on some wombat business. Pink Galahs (my totem bird ), rosellas, sulphur-crested cockatoos, and white-tailed black cockatoos wheeled overhead.

As the breeze fanned the grasses ahead in rhythmic waves it also brought some sweet bush perfumes. The hawthorn hedgerows were in bloom and then when I passed a church with a graveyard attached I thought this could be rural England!

I rode back roads until Campbell Town, then the highway for 10 km to Ross, a heritage town dating back to 1821 it’s full of Georgian buildings. I visited the old empty Methodist Church and climbed to the pulpit – the sense was one of power. The old joke is that Methodists didn’t like sex because it could lead to dancing!

For all its twee appeal, there is a sinister aspect to Ross, which was previously a convict processing center: “The Female Factory” on the edge of town, documents the penal history.

For $15.00 I get a campsite and a warm shower at the Ross Caravan Park. I met Wai, a Taiwanese cyclist who has been cycling around Tasmania since February.

After a brilliant day cycling, the clouds are building. The weather forecast is overcast and showers tomorrow but I really don’t mind. I’ll ride more back roads through beautiful Tasmania, I feel very privileged.