Do you come from a land down under?

Queue Australia. We landed in Perth--a destination in which we had about 3 hours rather than the day and a half we expected. Nonetheless, we figured that we would try and make the most of it. Why use the e-passport automated entry system when we could get a stamp by a REAL passport officer? Except that, half an hour later, when we effortlessly made our way through customs, NO stamp. The destruction of data integrity was just devastating. Isn't a passport just a glorified scrapbook?! Bah.

Anyway, we figured we would try to see if we could inexpensively juggle some flights around to give ourselves maybe half a day in Perth. Step one: try and locate the check-in counter. We had flown Singapore Airlines in, and our next flights (Perth to Melbourne, Melbourne to Hobart) were Qantas. We spent about another 30 minutes wandering the terminals - outside, only to find out you need to take a taxi to get to the Qantas terminal. The upside: a commercial transaction took place in Perth, outside the airport (the taxi ride itself). So basically, we can check Western Australia off of the list of Australian states I've been to. 3 down, 3 to go.

Unfortunately, we couldn't do anything to adjust our flights, so we just hung out in the business lounge, then slept our way through two flights (the first, in an upgraded Airbus A330). We arrived in Hobart, a place that reminded me a lot like Juneau, a place that is close to my heart! Small cruise port, refreshing air, quirky and warm people, random animal statues everywhere.

We took an uber to our hotel in downtown. The driver was playing a CD--yes, a historical treasure--that had, among other hits, two Bieber songs. So far, we have heard Bieber (actually, Despacito) on every continent we have visited.

When we got to the hotel, to get ahead and put us on New Zealand time, we just slept from like 6pm to 6am.

The next morning, we walked to breakfast at a hipster paradise named Small Fry. Tripadvisor said it was good, close, and not crazy expensive. Done.

My goodness, it may have been the best breakfast I've ever eaten - if not, at least top 5. It felt like what a lot of trendy places try to do, without the smugness. Many restaurants tout their local sourcing - this one didn't need to, the chef made the food right in front of you while on the phone with multiple vendors. When chopping tomatoes, he realized he needed more for the week and called his tomato guy and also asked for a half dozen blackberries while he was at it. The onion guy made a delivery while we were there. 10 seats around the bar with takeout window seating streetside.

A 4-cheese croque, brisket/pork belly sliders, and hot chocolate of course.

I've had the privilege of eating very well of late, including multiple open-kitchen/chef's table formats. His precision was no less impressive than what I've seen at Minibar or Volt.

All of the guests seemed to be local and many knew the chef by name. He was attentive and even provided us with genuine dinner recommendations around town. He gave off a real sense of pride in the local food scene.

After rolling ourselves out of breakfast, Chris went off to exchange currency while I packed. We checked out, had the hotel hold our bags for the day, and walked towards the wharf for tour pickup.

Our tour confirmation voucher instructed us to be at a certain spot at 10:00. Upon our 9:55 arrival, we see a packed tour shuttle full of cruise passengers and are told that we should have been there earlier. However, there is another couple also in the same situation, so the frazzled tour operator makes some calls. We hear him say, "...you're not dressed yet?" to someone on the phone and then tells us that he will have another "people-mover" take us on the tour separately if we don't mind waiting 30 minutes. Whatevs, our flight isn't until 10:30p. We have all the time in the world. We make friends with the other couple - an older Croatian-Australian nurse from Perth whose name translates to "Strawberry" in English (so, she insisted we call her Strawberry) and her Croatian husband, Steve. They are passengers on the Princess cruise that is making its way around Tasmania and up to Sydney. While we wait, we wander through the tourist shops and flip through expensive art we'll never buy and souvenirs we don't have the luggage space to carry. The shop owner was pleased to see that we were "real people" (i.e. not cruise passengers).

50 minutes later, a minivan emblazoned with our tour company's banner rolls up and out pops an endearing old man who takes us on the tour. John, a handsome old Air Force veteran (that's what he called himself, and reiterated that point when he showed us the laminated, black and white 8 x 10 portrait of himself from his deployment), was quite the amusing guide. Unlike our tour in Singapore, I do think we saw the important sites we were supposed to see. I don't know if we got all of the history of what we saw, but I guess that's what Wikipedia is for. What was most amusing about John - the little tidbits he told us about random restaurants and hotels we passed along the way - the specials they ran, the good or crappy service the provided, the unfortunately small portions of cheese offered.

Our tour was a bit disjointed - and John was not always clear with where he was supposed to take us, so we read him our tour description from the voucher just in case.

We were dropped off at a random little town for 30 minutes while John got gas. The others were all like "What the...", but I confirmed that we were supposed to be dropped off at this historic town for reviewers had mentioned a too-short period of time, but I thought it was supposed to happen at the end of the tour. “Richmond Village” was settled by convicts or something like that. I dunno, I clearly haven't wiki-d it yet.

Chris and I took the opportunity to wander through some shops and look for some wine to taste, since we passed 9876858 vineyards on the way. Time was running out and we couldn't find any tasting rooms, so we indulged ourselves with delicious local ice cream.

Then, we headed to Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary. They are known to rehab injured and orphaned animals.

We fed kangaroos! I haven't fed a kangaroo since I was 8, and I still have the mindset of small child... SO, TODAY WAS THE BEST DAY!

That would be a random, fearless baby we saw who insisted on feeding every kangaroo.

While we didn't get to hold a koala, per se, we did get to see a very sleepy koala up close, which helped make up for our Perth screw-up. I clearly came prepared for the photo-op and got props from multiple park rangers.

The wombats were shy, but Jerry certainly was not.

I vaguely recall being chased by an emu when I was a wee one - terrifying (also, their national bird, so not sure who wins in the case of an emergency). But, Jerry was not so terrifying.

And finally, we got to see Tasmanian devils!!!

Apparently, Tasmanian devils got their name because prior to their discovery, they were heard before they were ever seen. And goodness, do those little guys sound terrifying. Typically, in pictures of Tasmanian devils, you'll see them "yawning." Like hippos, they're really just showing you (and invasive photographers) their teeth in a show of dominance.

After the sanctuary, I don't really remember what we did because nothing else mattered because YAY ANIMALS!

Oh right, we were supposed to go to the highest point (Mount Wellington?) for aerial views but it was raining? So, John took us to a brewery?

Cascade Brewery is the exclusive brewer for Goose Island in Australia and also offered a fantastic selection of ciders. And we tried all of them in a convenient little flight we split. And by we, I mean - Chris and me. John ordered himself an artisanal soda while Strawberry made multiple judgmental comments about imbibing such festive beverages (I believe Strawberry referred to them as "poisons") and their deleterious effects on one's health.

We reiterated that we were on our honeymoon and were splitting a flight.

We half-jokingly/not-jokingly asked if we could just get left at the brewery instead of getting taken back to town, but I'm not sure our point was made. But, it seemed like a great place to leisurely waste a day. FYI, the Mercury Cider (can version) is dangerously delicious.

Then, we went to some scenic overlook, took some selfies, and got dropped off at the cruise port at 4pm.

Unfortunately, most places aren't the most hopping at 4pm on a Monday. All museums had closed. The recommendations we were given for dinner - all booked. We were still rather full from breakfast and kinda sleepy from the cider. We mozied our way back to the hotel, hung out in the lobby restaurant, snacked, picked up our bags, and then uberred to the airport early (like 3.5 hours early).

Upon arrival, I knew I needed to orchestrate a massive repack. We've had to check our giant backpacks on the last few flights and it has taken its toll on our luggage. The one pack's drawstring closure ripped, so I can't really stuff as much into it safely as I would like.

Sometimes we lie flat in business class, sometimes we take "Spirit." JetStar is the Spirit Airlines of Australia. They allow a strict amount of weight for checked and carry-on luggage and charge you by the kg for overages - and it's a lot cheaper if you buy the overages in advance. Since we had all the time in the world and the airport is tiny, we made use of the check-in scales and maximized our packing.

Apparently, JetStar only lets you drop off your bags only 2 hours before domestic flights, so we had a decent amount of waiting.There is genuinely not much to do in the Hobart airport, and when you're there for too long, weird things start happening - more to come on that later. After security, we realized that we should really eat as much as we can since we had an impending 5 hour overnight layover in Melbourne airport (sans lounge/hotel), and food was likely to be scarce during that time.

We eat. Flight is slightly delayed. We fly/sleep. Chris sleeps in the airport while I hunt down pictures from my family's Australia trip in 1993.

Ah yes, that is clearly for us. With Serena out, I could clearly make it to at least the Round of 16. Ha!

Fashion ICON.

More sleeping like a tank on the flight to Queenstown, so I can't really tell you about JetStar's quality of service.