12 September 2013, or Eleven:

So… long time no proper blog, hey? My bad.

I guess everything fell apart when I got a job. That’s when the fun stops, right? That’s when the proportion of fun in my life was greatly reduced, anyway. I may have a fairly shocking memory but I don’t think I’ll ever forget those six months of glory. I’m grateful that I had enough funds behind me to let me settle into life in a brand new city (in a brand new state!) before having to get back to the daily grind.

Despite getting back to a slightly more mundane life of full-time work, I’m happy to say that I’m still 100% confident with my decision to move down here. Tasmania continues to awe me. I’m not kidding. Even if it just experienced the warmest winter so far (seriously Tasmania why are you doing this to me YOU ARE MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY IT IS NOT PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE FOR ONE PUNY HUMAN TO BRING WEATHER WITH THEM stop making me feel like this is my fault), it’s still been cold. Cold. COLD! Deliciously cold. The kind of cold I’ve been dreaming of. Last week it warmed up a bit and people frolicked in the streets in one layer of clothing but this week we got a cold snap and I frolicked in the streets with three layers again. This is my life now.

So here’s a summary of what I did on the eleventh monthly anniversary of the date I arrived in Tasmania. I’ve also cheated and gone back through and added a post for each of the prior months as well, because I can, and you’re not my real mum (except one of you, HI MUM).

 

12 September 2013, or Eleven:

A Thursday. Snow on the mountain overnight (and in the streets of Hobart the day before!?) means that Jellyfish is curled up completely under the doona with me this morning, a rare event. I wake up before my alarm (easily accomplished while I’m on 11:30am starts at work) and pull on my brand new Doc Martens (purchased in preparation for my overseas adventure at the end of the year).

IMG_8197

too excited to even lace them like a cool person

Out the door with my daily Aeropress’d Zimmah coffee (Dutch Courage today, lovely and sweet) and down the road to get my first taste of The Schwartz Sandwiches. The new lunch place looks awesome and the guys from Ethos Eat Drink seem pretty stoked to be running the joint. I grab my takeaway sandwiches and head down the road to the bank, with a small delay as I grab my first Tasmanian conditional caution for not wearing my seatbelt. Oops.

My work day goes fairly quickly while not overly stressfully, which is a nice combination, and my lunch sandwich exceeds expectations.

I hit the supermarket on the way home to grab a couple of bits and pieces, begrudgingly purchasing some vegies that aren’t in season at Farm Gate at the moment. I finish the evening curled up on the couch with the cat, a blanket over both of us, watching Kevin McCloud exert his sassiness regarding some Grand Designs.

Lovely.

"hey guys everyone wear yellow for R U OK day"

“hey guys everyone wear yellow for R U OK day”

12 December 2012, or One:

November 12th marked one month since I drove down the Midlands Highway in my little blue car with my cat and my mum (trusty travel companions, both) to pull up stumps in Hobart.

I missed marking it here on the blog because I spent the first half of my day travelling back from my first interstate break since moving here. Kinda soon, I know, but Radiohead needed me. I lie; I needed Radiohead. I’d purchased my ticket back in February to see Radiohead in Brisbane, and then I even booked my flights a couple of months ago, before I’d even moved. I guess I was a) confident I’d be in Hobart by November and b) not even considering missing that gig. I don’t want to go off on too much of a segue, but it was 100% worth it and I am so happy to finally tick that off the bucket list.

Thom's all-seeing eye. (The good one.)

Thom’s all-seeing eye. (The good one.)

I also got the chance to surprise the heck out of four people I love—three best friends in Brisbane, and my little sister in Sydney. Yes, I jumped through TWO other states this weekend just gone.

Brisbane: fun + relaxing.

Brisbane: fun + relaxing.

Sydney: sister + tourista.

Sydney: sister + tourista.

To be honest, due to a cancelled flight and a reassignment via Melbourne, I technically hit up THREE other states this weekend, and a total of four flights in five days. I guess you could say I was a little tired yesterday when I finally arrived home (three hours later than originally planned, but three hours earlier than the first reassignment). Still, I’ve been neglecting this blog, and I’m not happy with that, so expect to see more frequent posts in the future.

So, one month in. How do I feel?

I feel great. One month in and I remain so, so happy with my decision. The weather down here is just what I’d hoped for, the views are dreamy, the people are charming and the food is tasty. I am glad to finally have my belongings from Brisbane unpacked, and I only have a couple of little tasks left to do before I can confidently say that I am settled in. I am still unemployed, but I’ve not been trying very hard to find a job down here, and I’ve only had one proper panic attack over my state of unemployment. I have been on some adventures, but not nearly as many as I could have been on, so as soon as I finish those couple of little tasks, I’m planning to set a weekly schedule for adventuring (and then we’ll see how well I actually stick to it).

I am excited for the future, for having friends and relatives come to visit and see how wonderful my life is down here. I am excited for finding work I can really engage in and be excited about. I am excited about the new friends I have made and further forging friendships. And right now, I am really excited about going upstairs to bed.

Answering the question.

Oh, right. Why Tasmania? I guess I didn’t actually mention that in my first post, even after giving it that title. I’ll explain my reasons—there are a lot of them, and some have more weight than others, but they’re all important enough to mention.

I think it’s probably a good idea to have a lot of reasons, or at least a couple of pretty big reasons, before you do something huge like move to the other end of the country, away from all your friends and basically the entire life you’ve known. I’m a couple of months shy of turning 29 (I’m not afraid so don’t sass me) and up until a week ago, I’d only ever lived in Queensland. A born and bred northerner, I was born in Emerald (don’t remember that bit), spent a couple of years in Longreach (don’t remember those), went from there to Browns Plains (memory kicks in around here), to Beaudesert, to Rockhampton, back to Beaudesert, and then into Brisbane not long after I turned 18. I’ve spent the last ten years jumping around the suburbs of Brisbane, with a number of interstate travels for work and play, and a couple of big play trips overseas, but nothing permanent. Because change is scary.

But sometimes scary is good.

It had probably been building subconsciously for a while, but I still remember the moment I thought, “I’m going to move to Hobart”. From that moment, it was a done deal. I’d been to Tasmania in the winter of 2011 for a holiday, but even back then, my friend and I declared that Tasmania would be somewhere perfect to retire. It wasn’t until that moment earlier this year that I realised I didn’t need to wait until retirement; Tasmania was perfect for me right now.

And with that… here are my answers to “Why Tasmania?”.

TL;DR — AKA click here to read the rest.

Why Tasmania?

I’ve heard this question so many times in the last two months. Has it really only been a little more than two months since I announced my intention to move from Brisbane, Queensland to Hobart, Tasmania for no better reason than “why not”?

Looking back, I should have started this blog back then, but to be honest it took a while to sink in that it was really happening—that I was really moving. I couldn’t tell you the exact moment, though a few spring to mind.

  • The moment I handed over the keys of my lovely rental house in West End to my dear friend and newly ex-housemate a couple of weeks ago?
  • The night before I set off on my roadtrip down to Tasmania, when my mum and I were finished playing life-object tetris to fit everything in my car?
  • About halfway into twenty-three hours of driving in three days, listening to the mix CD my friend Liz made for me, with every second song being a farewell track that made me tear up?
  • Driving down the Midland Highway from Devonport to go pick up the keys to my (fingers crossed) adorable new rental property, a place for me to call home in Hobart?
  • The moment I looked out the window of said rental property and saw Hobart in front of me, just outside?

All these moments played a part in me acknowledging that it’s real. This has happened. This is happening still! That’s the truth to it; this is happening still. I have been here a week today (happy weekiversary, Hobart) and even this afternoon as I drove out to New Norfolk, I had a moment of confusion where I knew I was driving my car, and I knew I was driving through a beautiful stretch of scenery, but I couldn’t get those two dots to connect. I was driving MY car in TASMANIA? But HOW? Oh, yeah…

I decided to start this blog for a couple of reasons. One of them is that I don’t have any friends in Hobart (yet? Please let the full statement end in “yet”) and writing blog posts may be a more sensible time-waster than online shopping (have I mentioned I’m currently funemployed? That money’s gotta run out someday—later rather than sooner would be nice) or just staring at the internet/my computer screen.

The other reason is so that the next time somebody asks me, “Why Tasmania?” I can reply with, “Why don’t you check out my blog?”