Cooee

Lake Kara's serenity was intoxicating, but even Eden requires a refilled glass. With water reserves dwindling after 8 days off grid, we turned our sails towards Burnie on the coast, restocking provisions for both body and bus.

Weeks earlier, a casual lament about pesky flies at the bus door had reached Anth's mum's ears. Her crafty magic materialized in the form of a macrame door, waiting for us at the Burnie post office – a tangible thread of love woven with the spirit of her own Australian journeys. It was a reminder that even on open roads, kindness has a way of finding you.

Cooee's free RV camp offered a no-frills haven, but its real treasure lay at our doorstep: the boundless expanse of Bass Strait. We were living the dream, the one whispered by many, envied by some, embraced by us.

Two nights we stayed, the first mirroring our wild Tasmanian welcome with wind that rattled the bus like a dice cup. But the second night brought magic in the form of a lone fairy penguin, navigating the rocky path homeward just beyond our window.

From enchanted lakes to windswept shores, each moment held its own unique freedom. And in that freedom, we lived, fully and joyfully, present in the present, wherever the road may lead.Read more