Life in Tasmania's Huon Valley, by a blow-in from the mainland
Thursday, April 25, 2019
It's been ten days since we moved down from the hills of Franklin into the centre of the village. This morning we walked across the road to the war memorial for the Anzac Day service, followed by a community breakfast at the Franklin Bowls Club. We've gone from having a large fenced yard to a small garden with no grass, so we take Gretchen across the road for regular short walks along the river. She's quickly settling in to being dog-about-town instead of farm dog. Yesterday evening we ran into friends on our walk who mentioned they were heading to the pub afterwards, so we met them there. Collecting our mail means wandering next door instead of a drive down the hill. There's a lovely little organic store only a short walk down the road, where you can refill your jars of dry goods like flour, rice and spices. David has had customers visit his main road office. And to my great surprise, the traffic noise hasn't kept me awake at all. I'm sure it will have its challenges, but so far village life is proving to be a nice change and an interesting little adventure.
Escaped Sydney in 2010 for a piece of paradise in Tasmania's Huon Valley. I'm a keen walker, remote worker, incompetent gardener, Bernese Mountain Dog owner, fan of almost anything German (food, language, cars, beer), amateur linguist, chook fancier, childfree.