Destoying Diets - Tucking in Tasmania

When I was checking in at Brisbane airport for my Qantas flight back home to Bombay. I apologetically told the chubby lady at the counter that I was overweight.
“So am I, sweetie. And I blame all our tasty food. You go ahead and have a nice flight!”
I’d of course been talking about my luggage, which she’d smoothly turned into a joke and graciously forgiven me for my 15kg excess.
But she wasn’t wrong about me being overweight. My ten days in Tassie were like one continuous food fest, a gourmet journey aimed at sampling all the islands gastronomical delights.

Breakfast would tend towards bacon, eggs, sausages and waffles washed down with café latte topped with whipped cream. Lunch was invariably a wholesome meal in a country pub and that was served overflowing from the plate - mostly sausages and bacon mash, fish of the day or a pepper steak with chips and salad. In between breakfast and lunch we invariably stopped for brunch at some quaint village with a café famous for its hot buttered scones served with loads of fresh homemade jam or triple decked stuffed pancakes smothered with hot chocolate sauce and loaded with two scoops of ice cream and fresh cream. We’d prefer a fine dining restaurant for dinner for their quiet ambience ideal for relaxing over a meal at the end of a hectic day. Here there was as much emphasis on the visual appeal of the serving as on its taste, quantity was somewhat sidelined. And in between these four meals we’d snack a little here and there on Tasmanian pies, sausage and mustard rolls, pastries and ice creams and taste various cheese, chocolates and salmon at dairies, factories and farms. Added to that was our liquid diet of flavoured milk, fine wines and full bodied beers. So yes, by the time I was ready to return it was becoming quite a fight to button up my jeans.