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  • Sal and Anth

Nomadic Narratives

Our home is a bus, our map the whispers of wanderlust, Australia our playground. From shimmering shores to the boundless outback. This journey is a story fuelled by laughter, shared experiences, & the constant hum of adventure's song. Leer más
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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    1Convict Built Bridge

    Sunrise Serenity at Mayfield Bay

    25–26 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    We slept soundly, lulled by the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore throughout the night. The ocean's melody provided a soothing backdrop, a natural lullaby that enveloped us in comfort. Just before dawn, Sal awoke, feeling the pull of the early morning tranquility. She quietly slipped out of the bus and made her way down to the beach, eager to witness the sunrise over Freycinet.

    The beach was deserted, a pristine stretch of sand that seemed to belong solely to her in those precious moments. The air was crisp, carrying the salty tang of the sea, and the sky was painted in hues of soft pink and orange. As the first light of dawn broke the horizon, the world seemed to hold its breath. The sunrise was a magnificent display, a warm glow that began its upward journey, casting golden rays across the water and illuminating the rugged silhouette of Freycinet. The sun didn’t climb high at this time of year, but its warmth and light were very much welcome, a promise of the day’s potential.

    Sal stood in awe, absorbing the serene beauty of the scene. The gentle lapping of the waves at her feet and the calls of distant seabirds created a symphony that complemented the visual splendor. She felt a profound sense of peace, a connection to the natural world that was both grounding and uplifting.

    After a while, she returned to the bus, her heart full and her mind calm. The interior was bathed in the soft, golden light of the rising sun, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Anth was just beginning to stir, the sunlight gently coaxing him awake. He, too, was drawn to the window, captivated by the beauty of the morning glow.

    Our stop at Mayfield Bay was brief but memorable. We had arrived late the previous day, the fading light guiding us to our serene campsite by the water. The night had enveloped us in its peaceful embrace, and now the dawn was bidding us to move forward. Though our time here was short, the experience was rich and fulfilling, a reminder of the simple yet profound joys of our journey.

    As we prepared to leave, we couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing to stay. The beauty of Mayfield Bay had left an indelible mark on our hearts, a promise that we would return to this serene haven. We packed up our belongings, the process swift and practiced, and set our sights on the road ahead. The journey called us onward, yet the memories of Mayfield Bay lingered, a gentle reminder of the countless wonders yet to explore.

    With the bus ready and our spirits high, we took one last look at the tranquil beach, now fully illuminated by the morning sun. The promise of new adventures awaited, and as we drove away, the beauty of Mayfield Bay stayed with us, a cherished chapter in the unfolding story of our travels. The horizon beckoned, and with hearts full of gratitude and anticipation, we continued our journey through the enchanting landscapes of Tasmania.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Rainy Reflections, Scenic Connections

    23–25 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ 🌬 13 °C

    Arriving at Freycinet National Park, we decided to settle into the park's powered RV area. Normally, our solar setup provides more than enough energy to keep us running, but with the Tasmanian winter fast approaching, a quick top-up of the batteries seemed prudent. The anticipation of shorter days and colder nights made us appreciate the convenience of shore power.

    Two years ago, we had undertaken a multi-day hike through this stunning park, immersing ourselves in its rugged beauty and serene landscapes. This time, we had hoped to recreate that adventure, but the weather had other plans. The forecast predicted rain, and while we could have braved the elements, our newfound freedom allowed us the luxury to wait. With a year to explore Tasmania, we could afford to return when conditions were perfect, ensuring we would enjoy the hike to its fullest.

    Instead of trekking, we hunkered down in our cozy bus. The rhythmic hum of the heater kept the chill at bay as we recharged our devices, taking full advantage of the shore power. The sound of rain tapping on the roof became a comforting backdrop as we worked on updating our journals, a task we had resolved to make a daily habit. Reflecting on our journey and documenting our experiences felt grounding, a way to connect with the moments that often flew by too quickly.

    On our final day at Freycinet, the clouds finally parted, revealing a sky of brilliant blue. Though the air remained crisp, the clear weather called us to the Wineglass Bay Lookout. The hike up was just as awe-inspiring as we remembered from our last visit. The path wound through eucalyptus forests and granite outcrops, each turn revealing glimpses of the stunning vista that awaited us. Two years ago, we had embarked on a three-day, two-night trek through the park, carrying all we needed on our backs and camping under the stars. This time, with Sal's girls' weekend approaching, we opted for the shorter journey to the lookout.

    As we reached the top, the panoramic view of Wineglass Bay spread out before us, an expanse of turquoise waters cradled by pristine white sand and framed by the rugged peaks of the Hazards mountains. The sight was breathtaking, each element harmonizing to create a scene of natural perfection. We took countless photos, trying to capture the essence of the moment, though no picture could truly do it justice. Standing there, gazing out over the bay, we felt a profound sense of connection to the land and to each other.

    After descending from the lookout, we decided to visit the Cape Tourville Lighthouse, a site we had missed on our previous trip. The short walk to the lighthouse offered equally stunning views, with the path winding along the cliff edge, providing unobstructed vistas of the ocean stretching out to the horizon. The lighthouse itself stood as a sentinel against the elements, its white structure stark against the deep blue of the sea. Walking around Cape Tourville, we marveled at the sheer cliffs and the powerful waves crashing below, feeling both the majesty and the raw power of nature.

    Contented for the moment, we returned to the bus, feeling a sense of fulfillment and readiness for our next adventure. We programmed the GPS for our next destination, Mayfield Bay, an hour’s drive away. This would be a new stop for us, adding to the excitement of our journey. The prospect of exploring an unfamiliar place filled us with anticipation. We drove along the winding coastal roads, the landscape a blur of verdant hills and sparkling seas, each turn promising new wonders.

    As we approached Mayfield Bay, the sun began to dip towards the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. We found a perfect spot to park, overlooking the serene bay. The gentle lapping of the waves and the cries of seabirds created a peaceful ambiance, a soothing end to a day filled with exploration and discovery. We settled in for the night, eager to see what new adventures awaited us in this beautiful, untamed corner of Tasmania. The journey continued, each day unfolding like a new chapter in the epic story of our travels.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Wild Trails and Turquoise Waters

    22–23 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    Waking up early (by winter standards), we greeted the crisp morning air with anticipation. The sky was a soft, muted gray, hinting at a day of adventure. We quickly prepared our gear and set off on our hike at a reasonable hour, eager to explore the untouched beauty of Douglas-Apsley National Park. Before we left, we signed the visitor book, detailing our intended itinerary for the day. Weather permitting, we planned to complete the full circuit, descending through Aspley Gorge and following the riverbed.

    The forest lay silent as we began our hike, the quiet season in Tasmania ensuring we had the wilderness to ourselves. The solitude was profound, the only sounds being our footsteps crunching on fallen leaves and the occasional rustle of wildlife hidden in the underbrush. The air was fresh and invigorating, filled with the earthy scent of damp soil and the sharp aroma of eucalyptus.

    As we ventured deeper into the forest, the landscape transformed into a magical tableau. It wasn’t long before we reached the waterhole, its turquoise waters a striking and surreal contrast to the dense greenery surrounding it. The clarity and color of the water were unlike anything we had seen before, a hidden gem in the heart of the wilderness. We paused to take in the serene beauty of the scene, feeling a deep sense of peace.

    We made our first water crossing just downstream, carefully navigating the rocks to avoid a chilly dip. The water was icy cold, a reminder of the near-winter season, but it only added to the sense of adventure. We continued our hike up towards the gorge, the path becoming steeper and more challenging. The effort was invigorating, each step through the raw wilderness rekindling our spirits and refilling our souls.

    A few kilometers in, we began our descent to the Aspley River, the trail becoming a series of wet roots and slippery rocks. Our trusty hiking poles were indispensable, providing stability and confidence as we made our way down the steep track. The forest echoed with the sounds of our journey, the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of the river guiding us onward.

    In no time, we reached the gorge, standing at the edge of a boulder-strewn path that beckoned us forward. The gorge was magnificent, its rugged beauty highlighted by the cascading waters that tumbled over ancient rocks. We took a moment to refuel and rehydrate, absorbing the grandeur of our surroundings. The cool breeze carried the scent of fresh water and pine, a sensory symphony that heightened our appreciation of the moment.

    As we set out downstream, we encountered the challenges we had been warned about. The recent rains had made the rocks slick and the water levels high, transforming the boulder-hopping adventure into a treacherous journey. We scrambled over the large river boulders, marveling at the sheer walls of the gorge that towered above us. The cascading waters created a mesmerizing backdrop, each drop sparkling in the filtered sunlight.

    However, our progress was halted by an impasse. The gorge walls rose too high and sheer to climb, and the surrounding rocks were too slippery from the recent rains. The only way forward was to swim through the frigid waters, a daunting prospect given the near-winter temperatures. After careful consideration, we decided to turn back, acknowledging the limits of safety. We weren’t disappointed, though. We had experienced a taste of the gorge’s wild beauty and knew we could return at a later, safer time. With no end date to our travels, we had the luxury to pick and choose our adventures, savoring each moment.

    Back at the bus, we stripped off our wet and muddy hiking gear, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite the challenges. We hit the road towards our next destination—Freycinet National Park. This place held a special place in our hearts, as we had hiked there two years earlier, creating memories that had fueled our wanderlust.

    The drive to Freycinet was filled with a sense of nostalgia and excitement. We reminisced about our previous visit, recalling the stunning vistas and the sense of freedom that had marked our first trip to Tasmania. Arriving at Freycinet, we felt a renewed sense of anticipation. The rugged coastline, with its dramatic cliffs and pristine beaches, awaited us.

    As we settled in for the night we reflected on the day's adventures, the beauty of the gorge, and the encounters with nature that made our journey so extraordinary. The anticipation of the next day's hike filled us with excitement, ready to explore the wonders of Freycinet National Park once more. Our endless adventure continued, each day a new chapter in the epic tale of our travels through Tasmania.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    From Stacks Bluff to Birthday Bliss

    20–22 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 12 °C

    We made our way down from the imposing shadow of Stacks Bluff, the morning sun casting long, golden rays over the rugged landscape. Our hearts were filled with anticipation as we continued our journey towards the coast, hoping to find slightly warmer weather and new adventures awaiting us.

    Rejoining the main road in the quaint town of Fingal, we traveled east, our eyes drinking in the sweeping vistas of rolling hills and dense forests that flanked our path. The road wound its way through picturesque countryside, leading us to St Mary’s, a charming village nestled among the hills. From there, we swung south through the breathtaking Elephant Pass, where the road twisted and turned, offering glimpses of the turquoise waters of the east coast far below. The air was crisp and clear, the scent of eucalyptus mingling with the salty tang of the ocean breeze.

    Finally, we arrived back on Tasmania’s stunning eastern coast, the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before us like an endless sapphire. Although our ultimate destination lay to the south in Hobart, where we were to arrive in seven days, we couldn't resist the call of the wild north. We ventured a few kilometers up the coast to a secluded free camp at Lagoons Beach. Here, we discovered a hidden gem—a peaceful spot overlooking a pristine beach, with a small, serene lagoon filled with elegant black swans gliding gracefully across the water. It was the perfect place to pause and reflect, and we decided to stay for a couple of nights to celebrate a special occasion: Anth’s birthday, the first we would celebrate on the road in our nomadic existence.

    Our chosen spot was not only beautiful but also practical, providing enough sunlight for our solar panels despite the low sun and frequent cloud cover. We spent our days exploring the beach, the cold sand crunching beneath our feet as we walked along the shore, the rhythmic sound of the waves soothing our souls. On one of these walks, we encountered another traveler who had been living on the road in Tasmania for six years. He shared tales of his adventures and misadventures, each story adding to the tapestry of our own journey. The camaraderie of shared experiences made our travels feel less solitary and more like being part of a vast, wandering community.

    As night fell, the temperature dropped, and though it was milder than previous nights, the chill still crept in. We decided it was time to invest in a diesel heater to brave the approaching Tasmanian winter, a decision that brought a spark of excitement to Sal’s eyes. The promise of warmth and comfort made the prospect of the cold months ahead seem more inviting.

    Anth’s birthday dawned with a crisp, clear sky, the morning light dancing on the lagoon’s surface. We celebrated with steaming cups of coffee and bowls of rich, creamy porridge, sitting outside and watching the black swans glide serenely across the water, their reflections shimmering like shadows on glass. The simple joy of the moment, surrounded by nature’s splendor, made the day feel truly special.

    After lunch, we packed up camp—a process that took only minutes in our well-organized bus—and set off towards Bicheno. The drive south was a nostalgic one, as Bicheno held many memories for us. This was our third visit; the first had been two years ago for Anth’s birthday, a trip that had blended the comforts of AirBnB stays with the exhilaration of multi-day hikes. As we approached the town, we reminisced about past adventures, each memory a precious gem in the mosaic of our travels.

    However, upon arriving in Bicheno, we discovered it was off-season, and our much-anticipated ice cream shop was closed. Undeterred, Sal improvised brilliantly, sourcing treats from the local IGA grocery store. We dined on delicious local pizza from the one remaining restaurant that was open, savoring the flavors and the cozy atmosphere, making the best of the situation with laughter and love.

    The following day promised new adventures as we planned a hike in Douglas-Apsley National Park. We drove to the trailhead and parked for the night, the excitement of the impending journey tingling in our veins. As we settled in for the evening, the stars began to twinkle above, the clear night sky a vast, celestial tapestry. The anticipation of the hike, the beauty of our surroundings, and the warmth of our companionship made everything feel epic and full of promise. We fell asleep with dreams of trails and vistas, ready for whatever the morning would bring in this magical land of Tasmania.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Echoes of the Past and Quoll Encounters

    18–20 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C

    For our next stop, we dared to venture to the southern side of Ben Lomond National Park, an area shrouded in mystery and rugged beauty. Turning off in Avoca, we headed north towards the formidable silhouette of Ben Lomond, a majestic landmark that seemed to touch the heavens. Just weeks earlier, we had explored the northern side, where we spent a week immersed in the tranquility of the bush and conquered the heights of Legges Tor. This time, our journey led us to the ghostly remnants of Storey's Creek, an abandoned tin mining town with a haunting history. Deserted in 1971, Storey's Creek now stood as a silent witness to the passage of time, with only a solitary occupied house standing amidst the echoes of its once-bustling past.

    As we approached, the eerie silence of the ruins enveloped us. The derelict buildings, standing as spectral sentinels of a bygone era, whispered tales of a community that once thrived here, now surrendered to nature's relentless embrace. Anth, ever the intrepid explorer, eagerly searched the area and unearthed a few geocaches hidden among the remnants, infusing a touch of modern-day adventure into our historical journey. Each find was a small victory, a connection to fellow adventurers who had come before us.

    We parked the bus on what was once the town’s cricket oval, now gradually being reclaimed by the encroaching forest. The overgrown grass and encircling trees created an almost mystical atmosphere, as if nature itself was weaving a tapestry around the memories of the past. Nestled under the towering Dolomite cliffs of Stacks Bluff, we prepared for the frigid night ahead, knowing it would be one of the coldest we had experienced. The imposing cliffs loomed above us, their sheer faces bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, casting long shadows that seemed to guard the secrets of the past.

    We gathered firewood, letting the crackling flames’ warmth seep into our bones, a comforting balm against the biting Tasmanian chill. As we sat by the fire, its glow illuminating our faces, we felt a deep sense of connection to the land and its history. The stars began to emerge, twinkling like diamonds in the clear, cold sky, and the vastness of the universe felt both humbling and awe-inspiring. The fire's embers danced in the night, casting flickering shadows that played upon the old buildings, bringing them to life in our imaginations.

    As the embers began to fade, we took a brief walk around the oval with a torch, eager to uncover the secrets of the night. The air was crisp and still, each breath visible in the frosty air. To our great excitement, we spotted several Eastern Quolls darting along the edges of our campsite. These small, spotted marsupials, once believed extinct on mainland Australia, were a thrilling sight to behold in their natural habitat. Their curious eyes glinted in the torchlight, and their agile movements were a testament to their adaptability and resilience.

    Witnessing these elusive creatures in the wild felt like stepping into an enchanted realm. The encounter added a magical, almost otherworldly, touch to our evening, reminding us of the extraordinary wonders that await those who dare to seek them. The quolls, with their distinctive white spots and bushy tails, seemed like mystical beings from another time, guardians of the forest who had come to welcome us into their world.

    As we settled in for the night, the haunting beauty of Storey's Creek and the wild charm of its nocturnal residents imprinted a lasting memory on our hearts. We lay in our cozy bed, listening to the distant sounds of the forest and the whispering winds, feeling a profound sense of peace and contentment. The stars outside our window shone brightly, a celestial reminder of the timeless allure of Tasmania's hidden treasures. We drifted off to sleep, knowing that this place, with its rich history and natural wonders, would remain etched in our memories forever.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Mechanic Mishaps and Scenic Surprises

    17–18 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 10 °C

    We bid farewell to Westbury once more, our hearts full of the town’s warmth, and set off towards the mechanics at West Tamar. This time, we took a quaint country road we had never explored before, the path winding through rolling hills and past charming farmhouses, each turn revealing a new picturesque scene. The journey itself was a serene prelude to the day’s adventures.

    Upon arrival at the mechanics, our plans hit an unexpected snag. They were unable to remove our rear wheels to fit the new airbags. Though the endeavour proved fruitless, we were not disheartened. The fact that we weren’t charged buoyed our spirits, and we remained optimistic about finding a solution in Hobart.

    Our next scheduled stop was Hobart. Normally, the journey would take only two and a half hours, but we had ten glorious days to make the trip. Sal was eagerly anticipating a reunion with her two best friends who were flying in for a visit. With ample time to reach our destination, we mapped out a leisurely drive, planning numerous stops to savour the scenic beauty of Tasmania. As Autumn was in its last days, the shorter days led us to choose a simple first stop at Epping Forest, behind a Caltex service station. At first glance, it might sound mundane, but this was Tasmania, and our campsite offered stunning views of the towering Ben Lomond National Park.

    That night, the temperature plunged to the coldest we had experienced in Tasmania, a biting 2 degrees Celsius. Frost blanketed the ground, transforming the landscape into a glittering wonderland. As dawn broke, we awoke to the rumbling arrival of a convoy of classic truck cabs, their vintage beauty and roaring engines adding a touch of magic to the frosty morning. The sight of these magnificent machines, shimmering in the crisp morning light, filled us with a renewed sense of wonder. After a moment of shared appreciation, we set off once more, our hearts light and our spirits high, eager to embrace the next chapter of our Tasmanian adventure.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Coffee, Community, and Cozy Nights

    15–17 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C

    We stopped in Deloraine, a charming haven nestled in Tasmania's heart, to recharge our batteries and explore its quaint streets. Our first destination was the post office to send off two parcels, including our small gimbal camera, which had developed a few issues but was thankfully still under warranty. There, we met Leanne, the delightful lady behind the counter. Intrigued by our nomadic lifestyle, she eagerly asked about our adventures and expressed her excitement to follow our journey on social media. As we parted, she gifted us with a heartfelt recommendation for the best coffee in town.

    We wandered 600 meters up the bustling street to the coffee house, a warm refuge buzzing with life. The scent of freshly brewed coffee beckoned us inside, promising solace from the cold. The lively atmosphere was a testament to its reputation, and it did not disappoint. Each sip of the rich, aromatic coffee revived our spirits, reminding us of the simple joys in our travels.

    Refreshed, we meandered back to our bus and set off for Westbury. This quaint town, though not our usual wilderness escape, held a special charm and was perfect for a brief respite before our return to Launceston.

    After a short, scenic 20-minute drive, we arrived in Westbury and immediately set out to explore its offerings. Another visit to a local coffee shop seemed fitting, a way to support the community that graciously provided travelers with a free stopover. The warmth of the locals and the cozy ambiance of the town enveloped us, making us feel welcomed and at home.

    For two nights, we stayed in Westbury, basking in the town's hospitality while our solar panels drank in the daylight to recharge our batteries. The town, with its timeless allure and friendly faces, provided us with everything we needed. As we prepared to leave, we felt a deep sense of gratitude for Westbury's generosity, knowing that these moments of connection and support were what made our journey truly remarkable.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
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    Epic Skies and Kindred Spirits

    11–15 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    Returning to the enchanting Honeycomb Caves, we set up camp with an unobstructed view of the majestic Great Western Tiers, ready to immerse ourselves in tranquility. Almost immediately, we crossed paths with two fascinating travelers. John, a vibrant eighty-year-old with the energy of youth, shared stories from his journey in his beloved motorhome. Sam, a spirited young South African commercial diver, recounted his recent arrival in Tasmania and his eagerness to explore its wilderness. After engaging conversations, we settled in for the night, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary event about to unfold.

    As dusk settled, we checked The Glendale App, the oracle for predicting the Aurora Australis. The forecast had our hearts racing with anticipation—the largest solar storm in two decades was imminent. We hurriedly gathered our camera gear, ensured our batteries were charged, and made our way to a clear section of the campground with panoramic views to the south.

    The night was thick with expectation as we waited, eyes skyward. At first, the aurora was faint, barely visible through our camera lenses and phones. But tonight was destined to be extraordinary.

    Sam and John initially returned to their respective camps, but our curiosity kept us anchored to our spot. Anth wandered further south and suddenly, the western sky ignited in a brilliant red blaze. His shout of excitement brought Sal rushing to his side. We quickly called Sam and John back, and together, we stood entranced as the night sky transformed into a living canvas of greens, reds, and oranges. The clouds, which had seemed poised to obscure this celestial display, mercifully parted, revealing the full splendor of the aurora. The sheer velocity and vividness of the colors defied our wildest dreams, leaving us breathless.

    For Sam, the sight was overwhelming, his awe amplified by a few beers. His inhibitions dissolved, he exclaimed, "Are you guys seeing what the f**k I am seeing!" His raw excitement only heightened the intensity of the moment.

    For Sal, this was the culmination of a lifelong dream. As the sky erupted in a symphony of colours, she stood spellbound, tears welling up in her eyes. Since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of witnessing the ethereal dance of the aurora. The reality was more magnificent than she had ever imagined. The brilliant hues painted across the sky seemed to reach out and touch her soul, filling her with a profound sense of wonder and gratitude. In that moment, she felt a deep connection to the universe, as if all the stars had aligned just for her. The fact that this spectacular display was unfolding in the southern skies of Australia, a place she hadn't expected to witness such magic, made it all the more extraordinary. Her heart swelled with joy, and she whispered a silent thank you to the cosmos for this gift.

    Hours passed in a blur of light and wonder, the colours dancing above us in a symphony of hues. Eventually, the celestial ballet began to fade, and we reluctantly retired to our bus, our minds ablaze with the night's unforgettable magic. The memory of this extraordinary aurora would remain etched in our hearts, a testament to the boundless beauty and wonder of our world.

    The next day, as we ventured onto social media, we were astonished to discover the true magnitude of the event we had witnessed. The Aurora Australis had stretched its ethereal fingers as far north as Queensland, our home state—an unprecedented phenomenon. Meanwhile, the Aurora Borealis painted the northern hemisphere with equal splendor. The realization that we had been part of such a globally shared marvel filled us with profound emotion, a deep sense of connection to people around the world who had gazed up at the same celestial wonder. The enormity of what we had witnessed began to sink in, leaving us both humbled and awestruck.

    Not long after, we bid farewell to both John and Sam as they continued on their individual journeys. With heartfelt promises to reunite with Sam during our time in Tasmania over the next ten months, we were reminded that the nomadic life, contrary to our initial fears, was rich with camaraderie and shared moments. The bonds we formed on the road proved that this lifestyle was far from lonely.

    By the end of the fifth day, our battery reserves were running low, a consequence of the persistent tree shade, the low sun of the southern autumn, and constant cloud cover. We decided to leave a few days early, planning to recharge in Deloraine and find a halfway campsite before returning to Launceston. As we packed up, we carried with us not only the vivid memories of the awe-inspiring aurora but also the warmth of newfound friendships and a renewed sense of community. Our journey was far from solitary; it was a tapestry woven with the threads of shared experiences and connections. The road ahead beckoned, promising more adventures, deeper connections, and countless moments of wonder waiting to be discovered.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Tamar’s Boardwalk to Hagley’s Embrace

    10–11 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    Leaving the mechanic's at West Tamar with another appointment set for a week's time, we embarked on our next adventure. The Tamar Wetlands Walk, one of Tasmania's 60 Great Short Walks, beckoned to us like a siren call. The opportunity to explore its beauty was irresistible. We disembarked from our trusty bus and began our journey along the boardwalk that gracefully stretched over the serene Tamar River. Anth, ever the determined adventurer, had recently committed to a rigorous frequency method exercise program with new friends from the trial. With unwavering resolve, he braved a series of walking lunges across the boardwalks, each step a testament to his endurance and spirit.

    With the walk triumphantly completed, another feather in our well-worn walking cap, we continued our journey towards the enchanting Honeycomb Caves. Memories of past adventures in these ancient caverns surfaced, each visit enriching our appreciation for Tasmania’s rugged heart. The familiar whispers of the caves seemed to call to us, their timeless secrets waiting to be rediscovered.

    Yet, wisdom tempered our wanderlust, and we chose not to push through to the caves that day. Instead, we decided to rest at the RV park in Hagley. We had only passed through Hagley once before, stopping briefly at the post office, but this time, it offered us a place of refuge as twilight descended. The serene ambiance of Hagley, with its quiet streets and welcoming spirit, always managed to rejuvenate our souls.

    Since embracing our nomadic lifestyle, we had consistently avoided driving at night. It wasn’t a matter of capability—Anth actually reveled in the tranquility of night driving—but the idea of arriving at a camp shrouded in darkness was far from ideal. Moreover, the dense wildlife and frequent roadkill in Tasmania made daytime driving the wisest choice.

    As the day surrendered to twilight, we arrived in Hagley just as the first stars began to twinkle. The quiet streets and welcoming ambiance felt like an old friend, recalling our brief but memorable stop here before. After a quick, hearty meal, we retired early, cocooned in the comfort of our cozy haven on wheels, eager for the next day's adventures. The freedom to decide our path, the liberty to choose where and when to rest, and the luxury of time to savor each moment—these were the true treasures of the life we had chosen. Each day was a new chapter in our epic journey, filled with the promise of discovery and the joy of exploration.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    What a meal to come home to!

    Partings and Promises: A Journey’s Pause

    15 abr.–10 may. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C

    As we departed the echoing chambers of Honeycomb Caves, a bittersweet sentiment washed over us. The anticipated slower pace of the days ahead promised tranquility, yet it was shadowed by the heartache of impending farewells. After three weeks of shared paths and stories, we were to part ways with Grammy and Fran, our beloved travel companions. The separation was doubly poignant as Sal and Anth faced a temporary divide—Anth bound for Adelaide to increase our Japan travel fund, and Sal remaining in the historic heart of Launceston.

    Our journey continued, pausing in Deloraine to replenish our water reserves before we circled back to where our adventures with Grammy had blossomed—Launceston and Old Mac's Farm Stay. That evening, nestled within the nostalgic confines of Grammy’s Hiace van, we indulged in a feast of delivered pizza, each slice accompanied by laughter and tears as we recounted the myriad moments from the past weeks. Promises were woven into the night air, pledges of future journeys and unbroken bonds, before we each succumbed to the embrace of night.

    The dawn greeted us with goodbyes; Grammy, Fran, and Anth headed towards the airport’s call, leaving Sal behind in the pastoral calm of Old Mac's. Her days unfolded with the steady rhythm of online work, maintaining connections with a former gym client to secure the daily sustenance of their buslife. Meanwhile, Anth immersed himself in a 17-day clinical trial, a path well-trodden by him and previously a significant source of their funding—most of the bus’s very foundations were financed through such endeavours.

    For Anth, this trial was unlike any other; it blossomed into one of the most social experiences he had ever encountered, threading his days with swift passage and the joy of global friendships. Among these was Andy, who extended a heartfelt invitation for Anth to stay at his home in the days preceding his flight—a gesture that promised enduring connections.

    Three weeks later, our reunion was sweetened with increased savings, igniting a renewed fervor to propel our online business to soaring new heights. Our final days in Launceston buzzed with activity, from gathering parcels at the post office to replenishing our provisions and visiting the local mechanic to book our bus in for some TLC. With our spirits high and the bus stocked, we looked forward with eager hearts to leaving behind the urban confines, yearning for the wild, soul-filling expanses that awaited our return. The promise of the untamed wilds beckoned, calling us back to the adventures that fed our souls.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    4
    3

    Echoes of the Wild: Serpents and Secrets

    14–15 abr. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 15 °C

    We bid our new friends farewell beneath the towering canopy of Mersey Forest and ventured onward, steering our path towards the enigmatic Honeycomb Caves. Descending from the lofty crags of the Western Tiers into the verdant farmlands of Tasmania, we retraced a road familiar to us—a path that two years prior had woven its way into our hearts and solidified this enchanting island as the inaugural destination of our nomadic odyssey. Nestled beside these fertile fields, the caves whispered secrets of ancient times, with the stoic Tiers standing sentinel in the distance. Here, beside the soft rustle of the farmland, we pitched our camp, with Grammy and Fran anchoring beside us in harmonious symphony.

    Anth, with an explorer’s spirit, soon spotted a geocache hidden within the national park's embrace. Intent on discovery, he ventured down the bush-laden path, eyes scanning the dense undergrowth for signs of the hidden trove. Yet, nature held its own surprises; not a meter from the path, a formidable tiger snake lay in wait. A few cautious stomps persuaded it to shift, yet it remained a guardian of the path, barring the way to our coveted geocache. "We'll leave this for another day," Anth proclaimed, wisdom prevailing over valor, and we retreated to the sanctuary of our camp.

    As the sun lingered in the sky, casting long shadows over the land, we were drawn to the cave's gaping mouth, just a stone's throw from our campsite. Inside, a serendipitous reunion unfolded as we stumbled upon Arli, Luke, and Tali—the same trio from the previous campsite— about to enjoy the cave’s cool respite. Tasmania’s quaint charm revealed itself once more in these unexpected encounters, knitting the fabric of our shared narratives. Together, we delved into the cavern’s depths, our voices echoing off its ancient walls, before emerging into the fading light of day. Parting ways with warm farewells, we returned to our camp, spirits uplifted by the threads of connection that seemed to stitch this small island so tightly together.

    That evening, the gentle crackle of the campfire drew us into a circle of newfound friends—the couple from the neighboring motorhome. Over shared nibbles and the glow of the flames, we exchanged stories of roving and discovery, each tale adding warmth to the cool Tasmanian night.

    This night marked the closing chapter of our wild Tasmanian journey with Grammy and Fran, for the dawn would usher us back to Launceston and their impending departure. Yet, in a twist of fate, as one door closed, another opened; Anth’s planned mainland venture weeks earlier had dissipated, but in its stead, a new journey beckoned—he was to depart on the morrow, perfectly synced with our farewells.

    The following morn, with a blend of caution and determination, Anth reclaimed the path to the geocache, now freed from its slithering sentinel. His successful retrieval was a quiet triumph, a fitting end to our adventures. With hearts laden with memories and spirits soaring with anticipation, we rolled towards Launceston, the wheels of our bus turning towards new horizons yet unseen.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Connections on the Western Tiers

    13–14 abr. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C

    Departing the tranquil shores of Lake Barrington, our journey propelled us onward in our faithful bus, steering towards the imposing and rugged silhouette of the Western Tiers. Hearts swelling with a blend of nostalgia and anticipation, we set our sights on Mersey Forest, a place of enchanting promise though not entirely engulfed in the Tiers. Guided by glowing recommendations from our revered travel guide, Wikicamps, we were drawn like moths to a flame, eager to uncover its hidden treasures.

    As we descended, the Forth River unfurled below us, its crystalline waters a vital artery feeding Lake Barrington, and our bus’s exhaust brake sang a low, protective hymn, conserving our mechanical stamina for the journey ahead. With every descent comes an ascent, and so we ascended, slowly winding our way up to the very edge of the Western Tiers. As we neared our destination, a flood of memories from two years prior washed over us—the adventurous few days we walked the Walls of Jerusalem. It was during that seminal journey we had vowed to make Tasmania the first port of call in our new nomadic life.

    Upon crossing the sturdy bridge over the Mersey River, our first attempt to navigate into the campsite was thwarted by a precariously sharp turn, compelling us to opt for a secondary entrance. This fortunate misdirection delivered us to an unexpectedly vacant campsite, quietly acclaimed as the local's preferred retreat.

    Our bus, spacious yet surprisingly agile, slipped effortlessly into a spot, its size an advantage in the densely wooded area, where larger vehicles dared not venture. Settling in beside us were Grammy and Fran in their reliable Hiace, our temporary travel companions, their presence a comforting constant beside the gently babbling river. Anth took to the land, gathering and processing firewood with a practiced ease, each log a building block for what would become an evening of serene campfire entertainment. His quest for wood briefly paused as he ventured back to the Mersey bridge to uncover a geocache, his success marked by a series of celebratory photographs.

    As Anth made his way back across the bridge, a small car buzzed past, its movements quick and curious, disappearing momentarily into the park entrance we had earlier bypassed. This fleeting encounter didn't end there; the car reappeared, nestling cheekily behind our camp—a bold move given the numerous campers who had passed by, deterred by our claim to this prime spot.

    The car disgorged its occupants—three intrepid souls ready to share in our encampment. Arli and Luke, a couple seasoned in the nomadic lifestyle, balancing their wanderlust with periods of work in outdoor education, were joined by their friend Tali, a spirited traveler about to embark on his own epic adventure to New Zealand.

    Together, under the canopy of stars and the whisper of the river, we encircled the crackling fire. Stories flowed freely, laughter echoed into the night, and bonds were forged in the shared warmth of the fire’s glow. The road had once again proven itself a remarkable weaver of destinies, drawing us together in this secluded Tasmanian sanctuary, reminding us that every journey, no matter how rugged or serene, is a symphony of stories waiting to be told.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Laundry, Lakes, and Late Nights

    12–13 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Coastal Views & Serendipitous Encounters

    11–12 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    222

    Family, Peaks, & Tasmanian Mystique

    9–11 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Circle Closed: Yolla's Culinary Welcome

    8–9 abr. 2024, 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…    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    1211

    Gordon River's Whisper: A Soulful Voyage

    5–8 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    2The Very Centre of Tasmania
    3Where are You?2

    Huon Heartbeats: The Wall's Embrace

    4–5 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    Sunrise Over the Lake

    Road Grime to Lakeside Prime

    3–4 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth

    Rainy Days and Tessellated Ways

    2–3 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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  • Sal and AnthNomadic NarrativesSal and Anth
    Coles Bay
    The Bicehno BlowholeThe Spiky Bridge3Inside the Fossil Cliffs21The Painted Cliffs3Cape Barren Goose24Resting in a Final Resting Spot

    Maria Island: An Odyssey in 3 Parts

    31 mar.–2 abr. 2024, 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.    Leer más

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    2The Gardens
    Picnic at Swimcart Beach2

    Easter Escape: Beyond St. Helens

    30–31 mar. 2024, Australia ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    The next morning, dawn painted the sky in soft hues as we rumbled south, eager to delve deeper into the Bay of Fires. The corrugated dirt road finally relented, surrendering to a smooth ribbon of bitumen just before St. Helens. This little town, once a familiar sight just a week ago, now thrummed with Easter Saturday energy. We decided to bypass the bustle and continued towards The Gardens at the Bay of Fires. Here, a vibrant tapestry of red unfolded before us – the Red Rocks, their fiery hues courtesy of a tenacious lichen.

    The Easter crowds had certainly claimed their territory amongst the rocks. Despite the bustle, we persevered in our exploration, determined to unearth the hidden gems of this area.

    Swimcart Beach beckoned, a place that already felt like home after our previous visit. We pulled in, the familiar scent of the ocean filling our lungs. With picnic baskets overflowing with hot cross buns and steaming cups of tea in hand, we settled on a seaside table, the gentle rhythm of the waves a soothing soundtrack to our lunch.

    Refueled and refreshed, we topped up the tanks of both bus and van, setting a southerly course. Our eventual destination: Triabunna, where Grammy had secured us a boat tour to the enigmatic Maria Island. The miles flew by, the journey a shared adventure with Grammy that filled us with a warm sense of togetherness. Finally, we pulled into a free RV camp nestled beside the Iron House Brewery – a perfect pitstop to cap off a day brimming with exploration and the joy of reconnecting with family. Tomorrow we would make the final drive to Triabunna.    Leer más

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    2

    Good Friday's Campsite Quest

    29 de marzo de 2024, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C

    Our three-week Tasmanian odyssey intermission officially began today. Grammy, ever the adventurer, had hired a Hiace van, its gleaming white a stark contrast to our trusty, Gold Coaster bus. With a rumble of engines and a flurry of excitement, we lurched eastward, chasing the rising sun towards the legendary Bay of Fires. The highway stretched before us, a ribbon of asphalt promising adventures yet to come.

    Not long into the drive, a sweet diversion emerged on the horizon – the town of Bridport. We pulled in, lured by the aroma of freshly baked waffles. Nestled in a bustling food hub, we stumbled upon a haven unlike any other. Golden squares, stacked high and crowned with scoops of ice cream, mountains of nuts, and a symphony of syrups awaited. This was breakfast fit for champions, or at least, ravenous explorers like us. Refueled and our taste buds tingling, we piled back into our vehicles, the promise of the Bay of Fires burning even brighter.

    As the afternoon wore on, the smooth tarmac surrendered to a corrugated challenge. The jolting ride had us questioning our campsite options, especially with Good Friday looming. Visions of overflowing campsites danced in our heads. But then, like a beacon of hope, Policeman's Point emerged on the horizon. Our promised land unfolded before us, a haven with ample space to accommodate both our trusty bus and Grammy's van. Relief washed over us as we settled in for the night.

    The afternoon melted into a blissful symphony – the girls' laughter mingling with the aroma of coffee brewing in Grammy's bus. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours, whispers of the aurora dancing in the night sky lulled us to sleep. The promise of this elusive light show added another layer of excitement to what was already shaping up to be an unforgettable adventure.    Leer más

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    4

    Tasmanian Tales with Grammy

    27–29 mar. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    The persistent rumble of trucks throughout the night left us bleary-eyed but buzzing with anticipation. Today was the day we'd reunite with Anth's mum in Launceston! Her arrival at 3 pm gave us a sliver of time for some city errands. Sal, yearning for a touch of pampering, surrendered to the magic of a hairdresser's chair, while Anth tackled the laundry mountain. A pit stop at the supermarket ensured our nomadic pantry wouldn't sing an empty tune.

    Errands conquered, we steered the bus towards Old Mac's Farm, a vibrant hub for fellow RVers. It wasn't our usual tranquil escape, but for this reunion, it was perfect. There, waiting with open arms, were Anth's mum and her best friend Fran, ready to join us on our Tasmanian adventure for the next three weeks. Saying goodbye to Grammy at the start of our journey had tugged at our hearts, but the chance to explore this island paradise with her, a place she'd never seen, filled us with joy.

    With bellies full and excitement bubbling over, we set off for Cataract Gorge, a natural wonder perched on the edge of Launceston. A quick trip on the chairlift whisked us over the gorge, its breathtaking beauty unfolding before us. We opted for a leisurely stroll back across the suspension bridge, pausing for a coffee break at the cafe before returning to the bus. It was a shorter walk than usual, a concession to our lovely "oldies," but their presence on this leg of the trip made it all the more special.

    Back at Old Mac's Farm, we gathered around the bus, maps spread out like a treasure hunter's dream. Together, we charted a course for the next few days, laughter and excitement filling the air. Dinner, unfortunately, turned into a battle against a swarm of pesky European wasps – a foe we weren't used to facing back in Queensland. Forced inside, we retreated to the cozy confines of the bus, bellies full of kebabs (minus a few wasp-induced casualties) and hearts brimming with plans for the adventures ahead. It was time to unwind, jot down the day's experiences in our journals, and drift off to sleep, lulled by the promise of new discoveries.    Leer más

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    2

    Giant Walks & Towering Gums

    26–27 mar. 2024, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 19 °C

    As we pulled away from Swimcart Beach, the fiery embers of the Bay of Fires fading in the rearview mirror, nostalgia washed over us. The week's tranquility had woven its spell, and whispers of a return danced on the wind. Winter's solitude beckoned, promising an opportunity to rediscover this haven in a new light.

    Replenishing our water supplies in St Helens, we steered our course northwest, the flanks of the Blue Tiers rising majestically beside us. A spontaneous detour led us to Halls Falls, where water cascaded down moss-mantled rocks, another symphony in Tasmania's wild concerto.

    Further along our route, we veered off the well-worn path towards The Blue Tier Giant Walk. The road narrowed to a thread, transforming into a goat track that our trusty steed traversed with unwavering resolve. The secluded trailhead soon emerged, and a short walk later, we found ourselves humbled by the towering presence of magnificent gums, their sentinels reaching nearly 60 meters skyward.

    Back on the open road, we pressed onward until the iconic silhouette of the Pub in the Paddock materialised on the horizon. Nestled amidst rolling hills and farmland, this rustic pub is a haven for weary travellers. The laughter and chatter of fellow adventurers spilled out from the weathered exterior, an irresistible invitation. Inside, a steaming cup of locally roasted coffee and a shared plate of golden fries fuelled our wanderlust. It was the perfect pit stop, a warm embrace amidst the untamed wilderness.

    Another stretch of road and Legerwood's memorial carvings stopped us in our tracks. Each inscription was a poignant etching, a story carved into wood to honour the lives lost in service during World War I. It was a solemn reminder of the sacrifices made, a testament to the courage of local servicemen who had given their all.

    Finally, we rumbled into Scottsdale, settling into the bustling free RV park. While not our customary tranquil haven, it offered the last refuge for the night. Tomorrow, a short journey to Launceston beckoned.    Leer más

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