We’d decided to leave. Yes it’s true. After all those dinner parties, red wine fuelled expansions and hand wringing misgivings about living cheek by jowl in a suburban enclave we’ve actually decided to put our money where our mouth is.
‘But you’ll never be able to buy back here again’
‘What’s so special about over there?’
‘It’s such a great community here It’ll be hard to find it over there’
‘This is your home your family is here, why do you want to leave?’
‘I won’t be around much longer, please stay’
‘What have we done wrong to make you want to leave?’
‘Just when we get to know you, you up and leave!’
‘Life’s an adventure. We love you, cherish you and hope you find happiness’
That last statement has resonated with me ever since we decided to take the plunge and leave our cosy idyllic, inner city, pre-gentrified suburb of Melbourne for the great unknown of Southern Tasmania, circa 2003.
It was difficult to move after having made a comfortable life in Melbourne amongst our families and friends. Sadly some of our friends viewed or move as a rejection of sorts which was never the intention, however one can’t discount peoples’ feelings at the time and as they say, time eventually heals and life always goes on.
When we arrived in Cygnet, the Red Velvet Lounge loomed large as a hub for many people and we were duly welcomed to join the red round table in the window. We met many new people over coffee in those first few months, easing us into the rhythms of the little town we had chosen as our new home.
In fact it was over a bowl delicious soup and great coffee at the RVL that sealed it for us, as we rationalised that a little town this south of Hobart that has such a great café must be a sign. Sitting in that room, the ink drying on the contract for the cottage we now live in, I was not to know that a few years later I would eventually become its current custodian.
They say if you’re still here after three years, you’ll stay, now having passed that mythical three-year mark a few years ago I feel it’s safe to suggest we’re here for the long haul, this is our home. I’m a Tasmanian now. The word sounds like a soothing lozenge in my mouth, familiar, restorative and at the same time redolent with a meaning that I am gently awakening to.
My infrequent visits to the big Island have left me longing for the currency of space, the pure air and the crispness of my tank water that I enjoy at home. I’ve learnt not to say ‘never’ over my years but I can’t see us living anywhere else, funny how life works out innit?