Devonport

And Eloise who had the casting vote between Skytower and Ferry opted for ferry, and we duly hopped on a boat over the harbour to Devonport where we met an ex-pat and her dog on the beach, had some lunch, and climbed a mountain.

Mount Victoria had a fortress dug in to it, the ventliation for which was a bunch of chimneys inexplicably capped with red metal toadstools. Eloise insisted on climbing on each and every one of them, balancing on it then jumping off, What fun.

And then she delighted in rolling down the mountain, which was thankfully coated in long lush green grass to break her fall.

Devonport itself was a kind of pseodu-English-seaside-town facsimile affair, tasteful as you like and brimming with cafes and art and craft type outlets. Not an atom of litter in sight, polite citizens, nice views over the harbour. I expect they're all stinking rich.