First, an apology: sorry for two sentimental, Tasmania-themed posts in a row!
We’re back in our second home for a few days, and the nostalgia is strong. It doesn’t really feel much like a holiday; we’ve slipped back into old routines, old haunts and old friends like we’ve never been away. The only difference is a niggling feeling of homesickness that I didn’t expect — I do miss my new home, as much as I miss the old. Mostly I think I just miss the cat.
Our journey this time is less than a week long, and pretty well-booked — not a whole lot of time available for new adventures — so in the spirit of sentimentality I’ve been looking through old photos instead.
I’ve always felt like I know most of Tassie like the back of my hand. Everything feels familiar here, no matter where you go; drive in any direction and you’ll get a distinct “Tasmanian” vibe from both the scenery and the people. It’s comforting.
Just over a year ago we decided to get to know our home state a little better with a week-long exploration from top to bottom, and I have to say: Tasmania surprised really us.
There was a lot of familiarity, but a lot of new things too.
We went nighttime squid fishing, climbed a mountain in thunder and lightning, swam with some tiny little fishes, and nearly lost our tent to the wind.
We battled bullants and bluebottles, and saw some pretty spectacular scenery.
Finding the old, unedited photos buried deep in my hard drive was nearly as exciting as seeing it all for the first time a year ago.
Remind me to do this more often x