Packing

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Packing, part 1: Friday afternoon

I pick DorkySon up from school, where he is hugged hard by kind friends who seem reluctant to let him leave. A classmate joins us for some of the walk home, and the two of them skip ahead of me, singing the baby shark song to each other and laughing.

But when she heads her way, and we head ours, it starts. DorkySon tells me that he will be packing as soon as he gets home, but please can he have a muffin and a drink first. He will need the energy boost for such a massive task. Continue reading

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Rooftop Bars and Hire Cars

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On the long plane journey back from the US a few weeks ago, while DorkyDad watched Muriel’s Wedding for the first time, and DorkySon watched the Peanuts movie for the fourth time, I chose to watch a documentary about Nora Ephron, called Everything is Copy.

It felt appropriate. I’m not half the writer that Nora was but our three weeks in the US – landing in South Carolina twelve hours before it was evacuated for Hurricane Matthew – certainly provided plenty of copy.

We’d been talking about this holiday for so long. Through the cold Tasmanian winter, during every sleepless night or stressful early morning, we reassured ourselves.

Hold on,” we’d say. “The holiday is coming! We have sunshine and music and shrimp in our future.

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Continue reading

A Bruny Island Break

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“We are living on an island, under an island, under an island, at the edge of the world.”

Sometimes you find a holiday spot that’s just so beautiful that you feel torn between telling everyone about it and keeping it a secret so it doesn’t get overrun.

That’s how I feel about our time away on Bruny Island last week. Given that my blog audience is a small one though, and that most of you live many thousands of miles away, I feel safe in spilling the beans. Continue reading

No More Planes

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One of the nicest things about our holiday up the East Coast last year was that it didn’t involve getting on a plane. We just threw our stuff in the back of the car and off we went.

We’ve just made plans for a few days break over Easter and we’ve done the same thing – booked a cottage that is less than a couple of hours drive away.

I am not keen to get on a plane again for a good long while.

I’ve been trying to work out when it stopped being fun because as a child even the prospect of flying was brilliant. Growing up on Harris, I used to lie on my back in the garden looking at the sky. Tiny Loganair planes flew over the house, on their way to adventures in Inverness or even Glasgow. I would imagine the strangers in suits, quietly reading newspapers and sipping drinks that sparkled with ice cubes and slices of lemon. When I visited my Grandpa, down in Staffordshire, I’d lie and watch bigger planes that had taken off from Manchester. I always thought the rows of white jet trails looked like someone had dragged a fork across the sky. Continue reading

Binalong Bay in Pictures

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It is the middle of spring break here so I have DorkySon home from school and haven’t had a lot of time to sit down and write. But we visited the East Coast of Tasmania for a few days last week and I really wanted to share a few photos.

We were staying in Binalong Bay  which is a small coastal village on the Bay of Fires, once named the best travel destination in the world by Lonely Planet. It’s about three and half hours drive from Hobart, although because we were travelling with DorkySon we chose to break the journey up with lunch on the way up (at Saltshaker in Swansea), and with ice cream on the way back (at Kate’s Berry Farm), so it probably took us more like four and a half. The roads were a bit hairy in places, but the views were spectacular for most of the way, especially driving though the wine valleys and then catching our first glimpses of that bright, white East Coast sand.

We had a really magical time. The house we were staying in – Bay of Fires Seascape – didn’t overlook the main beach at Binalong Bay, but it had an incredible view of Skeleton Bay, and all three of us spent a lot of time just gazing out the window watching the hundreds of birds, the sea, and the ever-changing light. Continue reading