In Victoria shacks are not really a thing. Some people have a ‘holiday house’ and others might have a bathing box somewhere, but it’s kind of rare. In Tasmania, it seems that shacks are a thing – they’ve been around a long time, but now – with real estate ascending ever greater heights, they are more coveted than they used to be. And I’m sitting here typing in one!
Our vineyard friends not only have a lot of pinot vines, they also have a shack – a shack that is closer to Bella Luna than their place. I’ve had the key for several months but haven’t made it down here until yesterday… when the weather forecast was for 30 degrees -untenable anywhere but the beach. Small DB and I drove down in the very late afternoon – an extremely beautiful drive along the river past green hills and apple orchards.
We debated what the shack would be like. A demountable? A hastily constructed mini-orb prefab? A hyper-modern eyesore? It was impossible to guess. We are familiar with the road it sits on, because Juleen lives a few doors up… There are all of those aforementioned constructions on this road…
But when we got to it, we saw that this shack was like none of them. It’s unassuming, set back on the block, in contrast to the overly large and largely uninspiring houses on either side of it. It’s a rectangle with a deck out the front and the back, water tanks, an outdoor shower and a view straight out over the ocean. The garden is a scramble of natives, a couple of old cane craypots and sprinkles of magenta flowered succulents.
I could lie in the (very, very comfortable bed) and look at the sea. Tick. We could walk barefoot over the dirt road to an impossibly beautiful beach. Tick. The noise of the ocean was a constant – the novelty being that we weren’t in a boat that was moving around upon it. I had my first swim of the season – instant ice-cream headache, but exquisite nonetheless.
Less than a week later I returned with Small Z in tow. As she often reminds me, she and I have never done an escape together – and now school makes such things even more tricky.
We had planned on having a Brooklyn 99 marathon, but (this bit is only pertinent to those familiar with the show, ignore it) the introduction of the Adrian Pimento character… was underwhelming. We had a poetry competition and played more Scrabble instead.
We visited J & R, who are only five houses up the road – Small Z got to talk gaming with a fellow ‘tween while we drank tea, followed by red wine. Their house is a constellation of plants…
We had a lovely time. Having two Smalls is wonderful, but I feel almost constantly torn between them – not being at school, Small DB usually gets the majority of my attention. It was lovely to have some downtime with Small Z.
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Fun fact: in New Zealand, beach huts/shacks are called a Bach.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bach_(New_Zealand)