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🚌 Roaming Australia's vastness
🌊 From shimmering shores to the boundless outback 🌅
🛤️ Crafting a life unbound by destinations
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  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    Day 100–101

    Laundry, Lakes, and Late Nights

    April 12 in Australia ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    At the break of day, under the soft glow of a languid morning, our journey momentarily paused to embrace the mundane yet grounding task of laundry. As our clothes danced lightly from the bus to the trees, they seemed to cast a spell over the campground, inspiring fellow travelers to adorn their spaces with hanging fabrics that fluttered in the gentle breeze.

    Once our gear was sun-kissed and dry, we embarked anew, post-lunch, with our compass set towards the majestic Leven Canyon. This was a place of awe that we had visited once before, but now it was Grammy and Fran's turn to stand on the precipice and gaze out over the vast, rugged beauty. Under Anth's expert guidance, Grammy mastered the art of the hiking poles and ascended with a youthful zeal, her face alight with pride as she reached the summit. The vista from the lookout rewarded her tenacity—a sweeping panorama of nature’s eternal grandeur.

    Our descent from the heights marked a transition into unexplored territories as we journeyed towards the tranquil shores of Lake Barrington. Here, the fabric of our adventure was enriched by the threads of new acquaintances. Garry, the seasoned handyman from Queensland, who had woven himself into the fabric of Tasmanian camping life, proved indispensable. His skilled hands brought our solar panels to life, ensuring our journey could continue bathed in efficiency and light.

    As dusk wrapped its velvet cloak around the campsite, Nina and Remo from Switzerland joined us by the crackling campfire. Their tales of traversing Australia's vast landscapes added layers of depth to our own narrative. The fire’s warm glow against the cool night air, the shared stories of distant roads traveled, and the laughter that echoed into the night created a tapestry of human connection that felt as timeless as the stars above.

    Later, under the star-studded sky, Anth, Nina, and Remo ventured to the lake’s edge in search of the elusive Aurora Australis. While the southern lights remained a mystery, the heavens above unveiled their own spectacle—the Milky Way sprawled across the night sky in a display of celestial wonder, punctuated by the occasional streak of a shooting star.

    With the arrival of another dawn, we bade farewell to our fellow wanderers, each goodbye tinged with the warmth of newfound friendships and the promise of future crossings. As we set off towards our next destination, the impending departure of Grammy cast a bittersweet shadow over our hearts, reminding us of the impermanence and preciousness of our shared moments in the wild heart of Tasmania.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    Day 99

    Coastal Views & Serendipitous Encounters

    April 11 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

    We bid a poignant farewell to Smithton and the untamed beauty of Tasmania’s northwest, steering our compass eastward while stopping briefly to refuel, a small yet necessary interlude in our journey.

    Just beyond the historical echoes of Stanley, we ventured into the wilds of Rocky Cape. During our last visit, we had trekked along a trail offering breathtaking coastal panoramas. This time, before embarking on any strenuous paths, we found a perfect spot that offered Grammy and Fran a sweeping glimpse of the rugged coastline, a majestic preview of the untamed beauty that lay ahead.

    Our eastward journey soon brought us to the charming coastal enclave of Penguin. In pursuit of the simple pleasure of fish and chips, our search led us to a quaint eatery nestled on the sands of the beach. There, to our amazement, we were reunited with Natalie, the gracious soul we’d met by the serene waters of Lake Kara months ago. Over the sound of lapping waves, she recounted spotting our bus meandering through Queenstown days before. It was a small reminder of how intertwined lives could be in the close-knit tapestry of Tasmania.

    With hearts full from our seaside reunion, we bid the coastal vistas farewell as Grammy’s longing for the mountains beckoned us southward. We directed our convoy towards Bannons Park, revisiting another cherished site from the early days of our expedition.

    As twilight descended, we lit a fire that danced against the evening chill, casting a warm glow over our circle. There, beside the crackling flames, we savored the final moments of our journey with Grammy. While the prospect of a slower pace awaited us, the time spent with Grammy hung suspended in the air—timeless and unforgettable, an enduring echo of our Tasmanian odyssey.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    111
    Day 97–99

    Family, Peaks, & Tasmanian Mystique

    April 9 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C

    Departing from the cozy confines of the Yolla Tavern, our spirits were high, nourished by the previous night's feast of sumptuous pizza. With nostalgia guiding us, we retraced the familiar paths first trodden upon our initial arrival in Tasmania. This journey, however, was graced with the delightful company of Grammy and Fran, their van meandering along with us through the scenic tapestry of the landscape.

    Our adventure began anew at Stanley, beneath the towering shadow of the Nut—an ancient volcanic relic that rises majestically from the earth. While Grammy chose the serene ascent via chairlift, we embarked once again on the challenging Zig Zag Track, our ascent marked by the rhythm of our steady breaths. At the summit, time seemed to stand still as we reunited, basking in the shared triumph over the rugged climb.

    Circling the plateau, the four of us were enveloped by the sheer magnitude of the vista, an endless expanse that stretched to the horizon. The same views that had captivated our hearts months before now unfolded before Grammy and Fran, sparking in their eyes a reflection of our initial wonder. Our descent led us on a brief detour past Highfield Estate, its stately presence whispering tales of its past role in the nascent days of Tasmanian governance.

    Our path then steered us towards Tall Timbers RV stop in Smithton, a site that echoed with the memories of our past visit. The quiet of the off-season enveloped us, the campsite's vast emptiness punctuated only by the presence of another solitary traveler. Under the vast Tasmanian sky, we settled in, the anticipation of the morrow's explorations lulling us into a peaceful rest.

    With the dawn came a shroud of clouds, setting a dramatic stage as we ventured forth to reveal to Grammy the mystic allure of the Arthur River and the Edge of the World lookout. A stop at Marrawah Inn infused warmth into our bodies, fortifying us against the day's stark contrasts of gusting winds and pelting rain—elements that seemed fittingly apocalyptic at the world's edge.

    Our exploration continued to Couta Rocks, though we bypassed the demanding Tarkine loop, mindful of Grammy's limitations. Yet, fortune smiled upon us at Trowutta Arch, an enigmatic geological marvel born from the union of two ancient sinkholes. Here, Grammy and Fran could partake in the walk, and together, we stood in awe at the archway, its formidable beauty a poignant reminder of nature’s enduring artistry.

    As twilight descended, we returned to the solitude of Smithton's campsite. Our hearts were full, having woven Grammy into the vibrant fabric of our Tasmanian saga, each shared experience enriching the collective tapestry of our journey, forever immortalised in the echoes of this wild, enchanting island.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    Day 96–97

    Circle Closed: Yolla's Culinary Welcome

    April 8 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    As we bid a solemn farewell to the serene pine forests and the quaint allure of Strahan, our journey took us northward, hugging the rugged contours of Tasmania's West Coast. On our left, the infinite expanse of the ocean sprawled, whispering ancient secrets and sagas of bygone voyages. To our right, the formidable mountains of Tasmania's heartland rose majestically, their peaks shrouded in the mists of time, guardians of the wild, untouched by the passage of ages.

    Not long into our northbound odyssey, we were drawn to the thrill of a hidden treasure—a geocache, nestled within the vastness of Tasmania's most expansive sand dunes. Little did Anth anticipate the challenge that awaited. With each determined step up the towering dune, a battle against his own limits unfolded, a testament to the spirit of adventure that propelled us forward. Victorious, albeit with cheeks aflame from the exertion, he returned to our trusty bus, a conqueror returning from his quest.

    Our journey continued, weaving through the historic vestiges of Zeehan and Rosebury, towns etched with the legacy of miners' dreams. The heavens opened above us, cloaking the landscape in a veil of rain, transforming the mountains into ethereal beings, veiled in mist, a scene plucked from the realm of myths. Ascending from the coastal embrace, we ventured into the mystery, the landscape around us a canvas of nature's unparalleled artistry.

    Drawn back towards the familiarity of Tasmania's northern shores, we made a fleeting visit to the rain-drenched streets of Waratah. Yet, with the skies unyielding, our hearts and wheels turned towards a destination marked not just on maps, but in our memories—a culinary haven known to us from tales past. Our quest led us through Hellyer Gorge once again and to the doors of the Yolla Tavern. Just as the twilight heralded our arrival, in perfect synchrony with our craving for a feast legendary across the land—pizza, but not merely any pizza. This was a dish woven with the flavors of Tasmania itself, a culinary masterpiece.

    Here, beside the tavern, under the canopy of night, we made our camp. This return to a region that had greeted us upon our first foray into Tasmania felt like a circle closing, a return to the familiar, yet imbued with the richness of all we had encountered. In the glow of the tavern's lights, amidst the laughter and tales shared over slices of pizza, there was a profound sense of coming full circle—back to a place that, though not our beginning, felt remarkably like coming home, steeped in the epic saga of our Tasmanian adventure.

    Other times we have stayed here ->
    https://findpenguins.com/salandanth/footprint/6…    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    1211
    Day 93–96

    Gordon River's Whisper: A Soulful Voyage

    April 5 in Australia ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C

    Awaking to the landscape embraced by the mornings fog, we bid farewell to our tranquil haven beside the Derwent River and embarked on a westward journey through the heart of Tasmania's wilderness, a realm where the mountains stand as ancient guardians of untold stories and mysteries. This land, wild and unbridled, spread its splendour before us, with every curve and crevice whispering tales of the primordial dance between earth and sky. Our passage through this breathtaking landscape became a pilgrimage of sorts, each spot marked on our map a beacon for future expeditions into the heart of nature's embrace. This voyage, shared with Grammy, transformed into a quest of discovery, a prelude to deeper explorations into the enigmatic wilds that beckoned with the promise of waterfalls and hidden trails, waiting to unveil their secrets to those bold enough to seek them.

    As we ventured further west, the mythic silhouette of Frenchman's Cap loomed on the horizon, a monolith calling to the souls of adventurers, its legendary trails a testament to the spirit of exploration that thrums in the heart of every wanderer. Our path then wound us over the Bradshaw Bridge, skirting the serene shores of Lake Burbury, before descending into the storied realm of Queenstown. This old mining town, steeped in history, offered a momentary respite, a brief interlude in our epic saga. Here, amidst the echoes of the past, we indulged in the simple pleasures of coffee and companionship, before the call of the wild urged us onward to Strahan, our anticipation for the adventures ahead growing with each mile.

    From the rugged heartlands to the untamed west coast of Tasmania, our journey led us to a campsite enfolded by an ancient pine forest, a sanctuary where the sun's rays wove golden tapestries through the whispering boughs. In this secluded glade, we established our temporary abode, our spirits alight with tales of the imminent cruise arranged by Grammy—a venture into the unknown that lulled us into dreams of tomorrow's promise.

    The ensuing day saw the ladies venturing back to Strahan, embarking on a quest of their own, while Anth remained, tending to the sacred rites of maintenance and preparation, ensuring our chariot and abode remained steadfast companions in our journey. The evening brought us together again, beneath the canopy of stars, our gathering graced by the curious gaze of nocturnal visitors, their presence a reminder of the wild's ever-watchful eye. As the night embraced us, we retreated into our metallic sanctuaries, hearts buoyed by the anticipation of the morrow's adventure.

    With dawn's light as our herald, we set forth towards the awaiting cruise, a departure from our accustomed solitude into a shared journey with fellow seekers. This voyage, a gift from Grammy, ushered us through the gates of Macquarie Harbour and beyond Hell's Gate, where the ocean's might greeted us with open arms. Our circuit of Sarah Island became a pilgrimage through time, each tale from our guide a thread in the tapestry of this land's rich history, captured in our memories and through the lens of our cameras.

    Yet, it was our passage up the Gordon River that called to our souls with a siren's song, its ancient forests a living testament to the earth's primordial essence. There, amidst the silent congregation of awestruck travellers, we bore witness to the sacred dance of light and shadow, a moment outside of time, where the soul of the world revealed itself in all its majestic glory.

    Our exploration of Heritage Landing, a foray into the heart of this untouched wilderness, became a journey of enlightenment, guided by the wisdom of the ages as shared by our knowledgeable companion. This expedition, a communion with the ancient spirits of the land, left us humbled and enriched, carrying with us the indelible mark of its memory as we returned to the embrace of Strahan.

    The final chapter of the day unfolded under the aegis of Grammy's generosity, with "The Ship That Never Was" offering a dramatic denouement to our shared narrative. As night fell and we journeyed back to our forested retreat, the realisation dawned that our adventure had woven itself into the fabric of our beings, a saga of discovery, connection, and the unbreakable bonds forged in the crucible of shared experience. In the silence of the night, under the watchful gaze of the constellations, we surrendered to sleep, our hearts full, our spirits forever altered by the epic journey that had unfolded—a tale not just of places and moments, but of the transformation that comes with stepping into the unknown, together.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    3
    22
    Day 92–93

    Huon Heartbeats: The Wall's Embrace

    April 4 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 10 °C

    As we ventured westward, ascending into the heart of Tasmania's wild embrace, our spirits soared, buoyed by the rugged, breathtaking beauty of the landscape that unfolded before us. Along the way, we paused at a modest marker by the roadside, only to discover it signified the exact geographical center of Tasmania—a serene and symbolic heart of this ancient, untamed land.

    As we neared our resting place for the night, Derwent Bridge, a sign for "The Wall" captured our gaze, its message a beacon of intrigue and artistry. Grammy's voice crackled through the UHF, her excitement mirroring ours, urging us toward this unexpected detour despite Anth's unfamiliarity with the allure that awaited us.

    Upon arrival, a sense of wonder enveloped us. Nestled within a vast metal shed, hidden among the wild bush, was an exhibition that defied expectations. Before us stood a magnificent wall of Huon pine, its intricate carvings a testament to the land's rugged history and the tenacity of its people. We were captivated, lost in the narratives etched into the wood, each detail a brushstroke in the larger tale of survival and endurance.

    Our journey through time was sweetened by a hearty indulgence in scones, laden with jam and cream, savoured beside the comforting embrace of a fireplace. This respite from the wilds fortified us for the journey ahead, and soon we found ourselves at the edge of the Derwent River, our campsite for the night offering a view both serene and surreal.

    The campsite, cloaked in an otherworldly allure, welcomed us with open arms. We staked our claim near the water's edge, the expanse of a dried lakebed stretching out before us, its surface dotted with the haunting remnants of trees long passed. As the chill of evening descended, we ventured into the twilight in search of wombats, their elusive forms dancing just beyond our reach.

    Gathering once more around the warmth of a rare fire, we succumbed to the ancient storytelling of the flickering flames, a ritual as old as time itself. The encroaching night wrapped us in a blanket of stars, and as the cold crept in, promising a frost touched dawn at a mere 1°C, we retreated to the sanctuary of our abodes. Wrapped in the cocoon of our collective memories, we surrendered to the night, embraced by the deepest cold we'd yet faced in Tasmania, and drifted into dreams woven from the fabric of our day's adventures.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    Day 91–92

    Road Grime to Lakeside Prime

    April 3 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C

    Bidding farewell to the Dunalley Inn and our revised westward plans, we hit the road. Soon, familiar sights unfolded – the farm in Forcett, a place etched in our memories from Sal's (and later joined by Anth) solo adventures. A quick stop in Sorrel for essential supplies (mostly chocolate, of course!) followed the same route we took weeks ago, returning to Penstock Lagoon. But this time, the lure of the unexplored beckoned, and we veered off westward.

    Hamilton marked our next stop – a top-up for our water reserves, and a tempting $1 hot shower that Anth couldn't resist, washing away the road grime. Finally, we reached our destination for the night – a campsite overlooking the serene expanse of Meadowbank Lake. Upon arrival, tranquility reigned, but as the day wore on, fellow travellers began to trickle in.

    Maps unfurled, we strategised our route to reach Strahan, the location of Grammy's other cruise surprise. A thrill of anticipation coursed through us, tempered by a nip in the air – a taste of Tasmania's infamous chill settling in. Time to bundle up and cozy in for the night.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    Day 90–91

    Rainy Days and Tessellated Ways

    April 2 in Australia ⋅ 🌧 16 °C

    Languid sunshine streamed through the window, coaxing Anth out of bed for a slower start to the day. Sal's legendary pancakes, a treat for the whole crew, fueled our leisurely morning, punctuated only by the essential cup (or two) of coffee.

    Southward we rumbled, with the promise of Cockle Creek dangling on the horizon for our arrival in a couple of days. Dunalley, nestled amidst the Tasmanian forests we adore exploring via dirt detours, beckoned as the perfect stopover for the night.

    The drive was a breeze, and soon we found ourselves pulling into our campsite for the night – a pair of sprawling paddocks bordering the Dunalley Inn. With the Easter crowds a distant memory, we had ample space to explore. Local gems called to us, and first on the agenda was the Tessellated Pavement. Millions of years in the making, this incredible rock formation unfolded before us, its geometric patterns a mesmerising pavement for the ocean's ceaseless dance. Squares of "pans and loaves," as they're called, crafted a captivating floor at the cliff's edge.

    History whispered its secrets next. The Officers Quarters Museum and the Dog Line at Eaglehawk Neck offered a fascinating glimpse into the past. This narrow 30-meter strip of land played a pivotal role during Port Arthur's penitentiary days. Back then, ferocious dogs guarded this escape route, a fact emphasised by the rather intimidating statue of a guard dog.

    Despite our best efforts with umbrellas and raincoats, the day turned into a wet one. But a little rain wouldn't dampen our adventurous spirits! This ancient land, steeped in history, was captivating nonetheless.

    Seeking refuge, we retreated to the cozy confines of the Dunalley pub. Hot drinks in hand, we dried off and warmed up, plotting our next move. Cockle Creek, with the rain and extended drive, would have to wait for another day. Instead, we opted for a westward shift, setting our sights on Strahan, a jewel on Tasmania's wild west coast.    Read more

  • Sal and AnthNomadic Narratives
    321324
    Day 88–90

    Maria Island: An Odyssey in 3 Parts

    March 31 in Australia ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C

    Part One: A Quirky Prelude of Ice Cream and Memories

    Triabunna, our launchpad for Monday's Maria Island adventure, beckoned on the horizon. Bicheno, a town etched with memories from two years ago, drew us in first. Familiar landmarks sparked recognition, and we couldn't resist pulling over for breakfast with Grammy and Fran. The view from the restaurant was a feast for the eyes, but the food and company truly nourished our souls. Refueled and reconnected, we ventured onward.

    The Bicheno Blowhole, a natural wonder we'd encountered before, was up next. While the conditions weren't ideal for a dramatic display, its raw power still held a certain spectacle. Back on the road, a detour became irresistible. Two years prior, on Anth's birthday in Coles Bay, we'd indulged in life-changing ice cream. A 30-kilometer detour couldn't deter us from reliving that memory.

    As we rolled into Coles Bay, nostalgia washed over us. Memories of our previous visit danced in the air, and whispers of future winter adventures in Freycinet National Park tickled our ears. Our nomadic lifestyle had transformed us into free spirits, following the whims of our hearts. Arriving at the ice creamery, even under an overcast sky, the view of the bay nestled against the towering peaks of Freycinet was breathtaking. We wandered up, anticipation building, and to our delight, the ice cream lived up to its legendary status. Grammy, a newfound convert, beamed in agreement.

    With Triabunna just an hour away, we continued our journey. A short while later, we stumbled upon a remarkable sight – the spiky bridge, a testament to convict ingenuity built in 1840. We stopped to admire its unique design, another layer of history woven into the tapestry of our adventure.

    We rolled into town in the early afternoon and chose our camp for the night behind the local pub. Maria Island awaited in the morning, a promise of exploration and discovery.

    Part Two: The Curious Voyage of Fossils and Dolphins

    The first light of dawn crept across the horizon, coaxing us from our metal havens and towards the marina where our trusty vessel awaited. This wasn't a typical adventure for us, a boat tour gifted by Grammy's generous hand. Yet, here we were, embarking on a journey to circumnavigate the entirety of Maria Island.

    The day dawned overcast, but the water lay flat and serene, a mirror reflecting the cloudy sky. Mic, the owner of Maria Island Cruises, exuded a wealth of knowledge about the island and Tasmania itself. He was our captain, our guide, our storyteller, for the day.

    Our circumnavigation began at Darlington Probation Station, a stark reminder of Tasmania's convict past that loomed large at the island's northern tip. As we travelled clockwise, the island unfolded its secrets one by one. The Fossil Cliffs, giants standing sentinel over time, emerged, their surfaces etched with the stories of creatures that swam the seas 300 million years ago. Seeing them up close from the vantage point of the boat was a privilege, the day's first awe-inspiring moment. The calm seas allowed Mic to weave a small detour, piloting us into a hidden cave where the fossils were even more magnificent. A lone white-breasted sea eagle perched high above, a silent witness to our exploration.

    The dramatic shift in the cliffs on the island's eastern side mirrored Mic's own infectious passion for geology. Here, he unveiled a geological marvel – metamorphic rock layered beneath sedimentary rock, capped by igneous rock, a testament to the earth's ancient forces. None of us were geology experts, but his enthusiasm, coupled with the mind-boggling formations, held us all captive.

    As if on cue, Mille, the first mate, chimed in with a hopeful wish for dolphins. Her words were barely out of her mouth when Mic steered us towards a pod of common dolphins, their sleek bodies slicing through the water as they feasted on a school of fish. They swam in tight circles, occasionally approaching the boat for a curious peek. Their playful dance was soon joined by several albatrosses of different varieties, all vying for a share of the fishy feast.

    Leaving the dolphins to their meal, we continued our journey south, the granite cliffs giving way to the idyllic beaches of Riedle Bay. Here, we paused for a delightful morning tea, the perfect fuel for the adventures ahead. A pair of wedge-tailed eagles soared high above the cliffs, their cries echoing across the vastness.

    The southern tip of Maria Island emerged soon after, its crown jewel being Peron's Pyramid – another jaw-dropping rock formation. Sleepy sea lions basked on the sun-warmed rocks, while a dozen playful pups frolicked in the water nearby. The island's magic unfolded with every passing mile, and we hadn't even set foot on land yet.

    Our journey then took us north along the island's sheltered side, where we dropped anchor in Encampment Cove, the opposite side of the isthmus from our morning tea stop. Lunch was served on board, a convivial affair despite the full passenger capacity. Only a handful of us braved the cool winds to enjoy the view from the top deck.

    The final leg of our sea voyage before reaching land was a trip past the painted cliffs, another breathtaking vista best appreciated from the water. Disembarkation time arrived, and with it, a surge of excitement. We were about to explore just a fraction of this island paradise, but the anticipation of encountering our furry friends – the wombats – was palpable.

    Part Three: The Last Chapter: Wombats and Wandering Souls

    Following the guided tour wasn't exactly our usual off-the-beaten-path adventure, but with Grammy and Fran in tow, it was a chance to explore together, a different kind of adventure.

    And what an exploration it was! We weren't even five minutes into the walk when we stumbled upon our first wombat sighting – a mother and her joey munching contentedly. Despite two months of crisscrossing Tasmania, these elusive creatures had remained frustratingly out of sight. But here on Maria Island, the promised wombat paradise, our patience was finally rewarded.

    The walk continued, and it became clear that this island was a true wildlife sanctuary. Wombats were everywhere, unbothered by our presence. Grammy, never one to miss out on an exciting animal encounter, was in her element – this was her first wombat sighting too!

    Our path wound through the grounds of the old probation gaol, adding a touch of historical intrigue to our wildlife adventure. The animal parade kept growing! We came face-to-face with plump Cape Barren geese, darting bandicoots, brightly coloured swift parrots, and curious pademelons. Each new encounter fuelled our sense of wonder, and we stopped countless times to marvel at the wombats, their every move captured in a flurry of photos and videos.

    The two hours on the island flew by in a whirlwind of discovery. As we boarded the boat back to Triabunna, a wave of nostalgia washed over us. We already knew we'd be back – to camp, to hike, to delve deeper into the island's secrets. The beauty of our nomadic lifestyle, with its boundless opportunities, meant we weren't confined by the constraints of a set vacation schedule.

    Back on the mainland, waving goodbye to Maria Island, an island off an island off an island, we reminisced about the day's adventures. It was unanimous – this was the undisputed highlight of our Tasmanian journey with Grammy so far.    Read more

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