Theft, penguins, oysters and broken tents

What a strange day?! We bundled out of the tent at 6am with excitement and warm milos to cheer us along bound for the Sunday market at Penguin.

A one hour drive later we pulled up to a substantial shed in Penguin to claim our $15 trestle table and spot. It was immediately clear that the Penguin market had seen better days and had degenerated into a glorified trash and treasure. Five hours later and one t-shirt sold (to a Melbournite!) and Jane and I packed up the kids and headed home.

We arrived back to bedlam - a strong gust had collapsed our magnificent gazebo. I seem to remember Akela warning us as 7 year old scouts - "make sure you use all the guy ropes boys" - I love to learn the hard way.

We then discovered someone had been "sampling" the top of a bottle of unopened $8 cleanskin shiraz which had been sitting inside the tent. It was next to a bottle of single malt scotch - obviously our thief had no taste. We knew it was the 16 year old lad in the campsite nearby who had been hanging around when he came around to warn us of "swipers in the campsite" and looked sheepishly at the half finished bottle.

Shortly later the young fella turned up with a boot of firewood for us - a good swap for the dodgey red he swiped. After cleaning up the campsite Jane and I cracked open our oysters (12 each with lime - magnificent) and lit a massive fire - all good.

Ollie, Henry and Eloise have slipped quickly into camping mode. They amuse themselves for hours playing around the campsite. Ollie was particularly impressed with Dad's express fire lighting technique - "Wow, that's amazing" - as half a jerry can of the finest unleaded disappeared into the ozone layer.

Tomorrow we pack up and head down the rugged west coast to the remote mining town of Corinna.

Love from Jane, Toby, Ollie, Eloise and Henry

ps. Dad, any speling erors in this one?

Life under Canvas

It almost seems like sacriledge getting the laptop out in such a beautiful location. Despite the idealic setting, the glow of the screen instantly brings back the outside world.

We arrived in Devonport, Tasmania last Monday night after an uneventful journey. The kids and I slept for 4 hours in our cabin after the exhaustion of the previous week's house pack up, interspersed with visits to various decks. At one stage we lost Ollie - he had made his way into the onboard casino and was found sitting in front of a one armed bandit.

Devonport was depressing. Bleak, cold and very few redeeming features; even the trees were grey, windswept and sad. Henry said "I want to go home". At this point Jane and I looked at each other and asked ourselves why we'd left our carefully constructed and comfortable lives. Our spirits lifted the next morning as we drove out into the beautiful Tasmanian farmland.

Three hours later we pulled into the Stanley Caravan Park (no booking) and met the enemy. Our enemy over the next few months will be the dreaded GREY NOMAD. Cashed up baby boomer retirees in massive RVs have taken over! The caravan park was full of them and not a spot left (not even school holidays!). The park owner referred us to another caravan park with a dismissive wave (I could see the thought bubble above her head "newbies").

Instead we found a tiny guide book reference to a Blackwater Creek camping ground. After nosing our way alongide a beautiful estuary about 10km out of Stanley we pulled up in a wonderful little sandy campsite which has been our home for the last 5 days. What a ripper!

Since then the days have drifted into one. Hours upon hours have been spent on the beach fishing, digging holes, collecting firewood, chasing crabs, being chased by crabs, collecting oysters and staring off into the distance. Its amazing how quickly you can slow down when you really try hard.

Despite some early trepidation, we have slipped easily into campsite life. With Astrid now gone Jane and I have had to divide up the tasks equally: she does kids and cleaning and I do cooking, fishing, kayaking, mountain biking and surfing. The daily challenge is to decide which of these activities to do: our campite is like a huge camping and outdoor store on wheels.

Over the last two days we have driven around the NW visiting the Tarkine Forest (mountain bike riding), the Big Tree (a 400 year old 60m stringey bark gum - amazing), Dip Falls, Wynyard Farmers Market and the little seaside town of Penguin (no penguins - apparently all eaten).

Tomorrow we will do the Penguin markets - our first market in Tasmania - to help fill the travelling coffers.

Please email us on darvall@netspace.net.au

Love from Jane, Toby, Ollie, Eloise and Henry.

Almost gone!

Ok so we've just realised packing up a student house as a 20 year old - maybe a couple of badly loaded vans and an unroadworthy ute - is a lot easier than packing up a family home. One shipping container later and countless nights of packing and de-constructing our lives in Elsternwick, Melbourne and we're at last free!!!

This afternoon we say goodbye to Astrid, who came 18 months ago as an au paire and today leaves as a member of our family and great friend. She's off on a 4 month tour of Asian as we head around Australia. We will all miss Astrid so much but we know she won't be a stranger.

Monday morning we're off overseas ourselves - we load our van and camper trailer (and 6 million tonnes of camping, surfing, fishing, kayaking, diving gear) onto the Spirit of Tasmania. The weeks cruising Tasmania, back the mainland on the 15th March and then who knows what........

The Darvalls