You’re standing on a ferry deck, clutching a drink, staring at a giant, rusted steel wall that looks like it belongs in a Bond villain's lair. This is the approach to the Museum of Old and New Art MONA. Honestly, if you’re looking for a polite afternoon of looking at watercolors of landscapes, you’ve come to the wrong place.
It's weird. It’s loud. It’s buried underground.
Hobart used to be a sleepy port city where the biggest excitement was the Saturday markets. Then David Walsh—a professional gambler who made a fortune out-mathing the casinos—decided to build a "subversive adult Disneyland" in the suburbs. He basically dumped $75 million of his own money into a hole in the ground.
Most people think MONA is just about "shock art." You know, the stuff that makes headlines because it's gross or controversial. But that’s a pretty lazy take. While there is definitely a machine that replicates the human digestive system and poops on a schedule (the Cloaca Professional), there’s also ancient Egyptian sarcophagi and stunning light installations that make you feel like you’re floating in space.
It’s about the mix. It's about how we deal with the fact that we’re all going to die, but in the meantime, we might as well look at something interesting.
Why the Museum of Old and New Art MONA feels like a fever dream
The first thing you’ll notice is the lack of labels. No boring white cards telling you what to think or which "period" a painting belongs to. Instead, you get "The O." It’s an app on your phone that tracks where you are and gives you the lowdown on the art nearby.
Walsh calls the commentary "Art Wank." It’s basically his team of curators being brutally honest about why they like a piece, or sometimes, why they think it’s kinda trash.
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Descending into the void
The architecture is half the story. To get in, you go down. Way down. A spiral staircase takes you three floors underground into a labyrinth carved out of 250-million-year-old Triassic sandstone. There are no windows. No natural light. It’s cool, damp, and feels a bit like you’re trespassing in a secret bunker.
- The Snake: A massive mural by Sidney Nolan made of 1,620 individual paintings. It’s beautiful and overwhelming.
- The Fat Car: An actual Porsche that Erwin Wurm made look bloated and "obese" to talk about consumerism.
- Bit.fall: A waterfall by Julius Popp that uses droplets of water to "print" words trending on Google in real-time. It’s mesmerizing until you realize how fast the internet moves.
You’ve got to be prepared to walk. A lot. The tunnels twist and turn, and it’s very easy to get lost. But honestly? Getting lost is sorta the point. You might stumble into a room full of TV screens showing people singing Madonna songs, or you might find yourself in a quiet corner with a 2,000-year-old coin.
The David Walsh factor: Gambling and guilt
It’s impossible to talk about the Museum of Old and New Art MONA without talking about the man who paid for it. David Walsh is a local legend, a guy who grew up in the working-class suburb of Glenorchy and ended up being barred from casinos because he was too good at winning.
He didn't build this for the government. He didn't build it for corporate sponsors. He built it because he felt "guilty about making money without making a mark."
That freedom shows. Since he doesn't have to answer to a board of directors or a bunch of grumpy taxpayers, he can put whatever he wants in there. If he wants to display 151 porcelain vulvas sculpted from real women (Greg Taylor’s Cunts... and other conversations), he does it. If he wants to host a winter festival called Dark Mofo where people swim naked in the river at sunrise, he does that too.
It’s this "I don’t care if you like it" energy that makes the museum feel so authentic. It’s not trying to sell you anything. Well, except maybe a bottle of wine from the vineyard upstairs.
Getting there: The ferry is non-negotiable
Technically, you can drive to Berriedale. It’s about 15 minutes from the center of Hobart. But if you do that, you’re doing it wrong.
The MONA Roma ferry is part of the ritual. It leaves from Brooke Street Pier. You can sit on a plastic sheep on the deck and drink a Moo Brew (the museum’s own beer brand) while the boat speeds up the Derwent River.
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If you’re feeling flush, get a "Posh Pit" ticket. It costs more—around $30 to $35 extra—but you get a private lounge, free-flowing drinks, and "tiny food." It feels ridiculous and decadent, which fits the vibe of the whole day perfectly.
Practical stuff you actually need to know
- Opening Days: In 2026, they are usually open Thursday to Monday. They’re closed Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Don’t be the person who shows up on a Tuesday.
- Tickets: It’s around $39 for adults (visitors). If you’re lucky enough to be a Tasmanian resident, it’s free, but you still have to book a time slot.
- The Stairs: There are 99 steps from the ferry pier to the entrance. If your knees aren't up for it, there is an accessible tunnel, just let the staff know.
What to do when you’ve had enough "art"
Eventually, the darkness and the "sex and death" themes might get a bit much. When that happens, head back up to the surface.
The grounds are stunning. There’s a winery (Moorilla), a brewery, and several restaurants. The Source is the fancy one—think "living tables" with plants growing in the middle and high-end Tasmanian produce. If you want something a bit weirder, try Faro. It’s a bar and restaurant built into a glass wing that hangs over the water. They often have experimental performances happening while you eat.
Honestly, even if you hate the art, the food and the views of the river are worth the trip.
The verdict: Is it worth the hype?
Some people leave MONA angry. They think it’s pretentious or that Walsh is just showing off. Others find it life-changing.
Whatever you feel, you won't be bored. That’s the real achievement here. In a world where everything is curated to be safe and "brand-friendly," the Museum of Old and New Art MONA is a chaotic, expensive, brilliant mess.
It’s the reason people fly to Tasmania now. It changed the state's economy, but more importantly, it changed how Australians think about museums. They don't have to be dusty libraries. They can be a place where you drink a cocktail, look at a mummy, and watch a machine poop.
Your next steps for a MONA trip
- Book the ferry early: The morning slots (9:15 am and 10:15 am) sell out weeks in advance, especially in summer.
- Charge your phone: You’ll need it for "The O" app. They have charging stations, but it’s a pain to be tethered to a wall when there’s a labyrinth to explore.
- Check the "What’s On" page: If your visit aligns with January or June, you might catch the festivals (Mona Foma or Dark Mofo). Be warned: hotel prices in Hobart triple during these times.
- Bring headphones: Some of the artworks have audio components that you can only hear through the app.
Go with an open mind. Or go just to see the fancy toilets. Either way, you'll have something to talk about at dinner.