Fun evening out with nomads like us!…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
Tom connected with this lovely couple, Jennifer and Ryan, also from Minnesota, who became home-free nomads at a young age two years ago.

Travel has an interesting way of bringing people together, often in the most unexpected places. Last night was one of those occasions that reminded me how small the world can feel, even when we are thousands of miles from home.

We met Jennifer and Ryan, a couple Tom had connected with through a Facebook group for travelers. Someone in the group had asked where people would be in a few weeks, and Tom happened to mention that we would be spending time in Penguin. Jennifer and Ryan replied that they would be here as well, although only briefly. With nothing more than that simple exchange, a plan was made to meet for drinks and dinner.

When we arrived, it felt as though we were greeting old friends rather than people we had never met before. Almost immediately, we discovered a fun coincidence…they were both from Minnesota, which gave us an instant connection and plenty to talk about right from the start. Something is comforting about sharing familiar reference points, even when you are standing in a small coastal town on the northern shore of Tasmania.

Ryan and Jennifer are having the time of their lives!

Of course, our conversation quickly expanded far beyond Minnesota. Like us, they have spent a great deal of time traveling, and it seemed that every destination one of us mentioned sparked another story from someone else. Countries we had visited overlapped again and again. At one point, they mentioned their cruise to Antarctica, which naturally led to more enthusiastic comparisons of icy landscapes, wildlife sightings, and the kind of surreal beauty that only exists in those remote corners of the world.

The conversation bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball. One story led to another, which led to laughter, which then reminded someone of yet another adventure somewhere else. It is always such a pleasure to talk with people who understand that particular curiosity about the world, the constant pull to see what lies beyond the next horizon.

We met at five in the afternoon for happy hour, and before long, we ordered dinner. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to take photos of the food, which is unusual for me these days. I suppose that says something about how engaged I was in the conversation.

Tom was enjoying being out and about and meeting new people. I felt the same way.

What I ordered turned out to be an unusual twist on a familiar dish. I ordered nachos with the chips served separately on the side. Instead of the typical pile of tortilla chips layered with toppings, the bowl contained shredded pot roast topped with melted cheese, guacamole, salsa, and sour cream. The chips sat in their own basket beside it.

In the end, I never ate a single chip. The bowl itself was satisfying on its own. It was hearty and flavorful, the kind of dish that feels comforting after a cool evening along the Tasmanian coast. The basket of chips, however, did not go to waste. I pushed them toward the center of the table, and the three of them happily munched their way through the entire bowlful.

Before we knew it, the evening had slipped away. We had arrived at five, but by eight thirty we were already back at the house. It was the perfect amount of time to enjoy good company without turning the night into something exhausting.

Once home, Tom and I settled in to watch an episode of The Traitors, which has become our little evening ritual. Not long after the episode ended, I headed off to bed.

Last night, for the first time in years, I drank two glasses of 3.5% low carb beer. Since we haven’t had any alcohol lately, today I have a terrible hangover. I won’t be drinking beer again!

Unfortunately, sleep did not come easily. It turned into one of those restless nights where you drift in and out without ever feeling fully settled. Today, I am feeling its effects. Between making pizza for Tom and preparing a seafood dish for myself, I find that I am dragging my feet more than usual.

Still, tomorrow is another day, and I suspect a good night’s sleep will set everything right again. Besides, we returned home last night after seeing something quite special at the wildlife department, a thrill for both of us. Tomorrow I will share that story, along with a stunning photo, because it was one of those moments that remind us once again why we love being here and traveling the world.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago, March 14, 2016:

In New Zealand, these beautiful clusters of trees create a nice foreground for our photos at sunset. For more photos, please click here.

Sightseeing in Tasmania continues…More new photos…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
It was a little hazy, but the views were picturesque.

Two days ago, we set off in the little car to visit Braddons Lookout, a place we had read about more than once while exploring the northwest coast of Tasmania. With each mention, we became more curious. Travelers and locals alike described the sweeping view and the quiet sense of space that seems to stretch forever along this coastline. It sounded like the kind of place that rewards a short drive and a few lingering minutes standing at the railing.

We certainly were not disappointed.

The scenery was exquisite including the ocean, from this high point.

The drive itself is part of the pleasure when exploring this part of the island. The roads gently wind through rolling farmland, past grazing sheep and sturdy farmhouses that appear to have weathered decades of coastal wind. Patches of forest rise and fall along the hillsides, and every so often the deep blue of the sea appears in the distance, like a quiet promise waiting just ahead.

As we climbed the final stretch toward the lookout, the air seemed to open up. The road grew steeper, and the trees thinned just enough to hint that we were approaching something special. When we pulled into the small parking area and stepped out of the car, the view revealed itself all at once.

Sign at Braddon’s Lookout.

Standing there at the designated lookout area, it is impossible not to pause for a moment.

Tasmania is so much about scenery that feels untouched and expansive. Hills roll toward the sea in soft layers, streams carve their quiet paths through valleys, and the coastline stretches on in a way that feels endless. Even after weeks here, we still find ourselves stopping in amazement at views like this.

Another sign at the overlook site.

From the lookout, we could see the surrounding countryside unfolding in every direction. Green farmland dotted with trees spread inland, while the coastal towns appeared as small clusters of rooftops far below. In the distance, various bodies of water curved gently north and south, fading into a hazy blue sky.

When we were in Tasmania ten years ago at this time of year, the grass was green after more rain.

A cool breeze drifted across the hilltop, carrying the faint scent of salt and eucalyptus. It was one of those simple sensory moments that seem to define travel memories more than anything else. The temperature was mild, the sky partly clear but hazy at a distance, and the horizon stretched out so far that it almost invited your thoughts to wander with it.

We leaned against the railing for quite some time, simply taking it all in. We were the only visitors to the lookout until one tourist arrived, just as we were leaving.

Braddon’s Lookout provided some stunning views.

Moments like this remind me why Tasmania holds such a special place in our hearts. The island does not shout for attention. Instead, it quietly offers scenes of beauty around nearly every bend in the road. One minute you are driving past farmland, and the next you are standing high above the sea, gazing out over miles of coastline that feel both wild and welcoming.

Stunning views from every angle.

Eventually, we returned to the car, though neither of us seemed eager to leave just yet. Tom took a few final photos while I lingered near the edge of the lookout, committing the view to memory. No photograph can fully capture the feeling of standing there with the wind brushing past and the views stretching endlessly.

The drive back felt just as enjoyable as the journey up. As we descended the hill, the view slowly disappeared behind us, replaced once again by farmland and winding coastal roads.

Still, the memory of that wide-open vista stayed with us the rest of the day.

Another expansive view.

In Tasmania, it often feels as though nature is constantly inviting you to pull over, step out of the car, and simply look around. At Braddons Lookout, that invitation is impossible to resist. And like so many places on this remarkable island, it left us grateful that curiosity led us there.

Tonight we are meeting Jennifer and Ryan for drinks and dinner, a couple we have never met. Jennifer had responded to Tom, after a simple question in a Facebook group that Tom follows, asking members where they would be in two weeks. Tom replied that we would be in Penguin, Tasmania, and she quickly responded that they would be here as well. With a few friendly messages back and forth, a plan was made to meet tonight for dinner and drinks at Neptune Grand Hotel Bistro. Moments like this remind us that travel often brings unexpected connections, turning strangers from across the world into new acquaintances with whom we have an opportunity to share a meal. Delightful!

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 13, 2016:

We never figured out the source of the smoke in these photos in New Zealand, when the road was closed for a bike race. For more photos, please click here.

Sightseeing in Tasmania continues…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
Not our photo, although we took the others below of the Three Sisters. We couldn’t get close enough for such a photo because of traffic on the narrow, two-lane road.

Not far from the quiet seaside town of Penguin lies one of those places that manages to feel both humble and magnificent at the same time. The Three Sisters of Tasmania sit just offshore near Table Cape, rising from the restless waters of the Bass Strait like silent guardians that have watched the coastline for thousands of years.

At first glance, the Three Sisters appear almost modest. They are not towering cliffs or dramatic mountains. Instead, there are three weathered sea stacks, separated from the mainland by centuries of wind, waves, and erosion. Yet the moment you see them, especially from the lookout along Table Cape, you realize how special they are. Standing there, looking out over the vast expanse of ocean, the three stone pillars seem to tell a story without saying a single word.

These same railroad tracks are across the Main Road, where our holiday home overlooks the sea. We see a train a few times each day, returning hours later. Of course, Tom, as a former railroad worker, enjoys seeing the train.

We drove out toward Table Cape on a cool morning a few days ago, the kind of Tasmanian day when the sky seems to stretch endlessly, and the air carries the scent of the sea. The farmland surrounding the cape was dotted with grazing cattle and open green fields that rolled gently toward the cliffs. It felt peaceful in that way many places in Tasmania do, where life moves at a comfortable pace and nature quietly takes center stage.

As we approached the edge of the cape, the view suddenly opened up. The land simply stops, replaced by dramatic cliffs that drop down to the churning waters below. Out there, not far from shore but far enough to stand alone, were the Three Sisters.

These same railroad tracks are across the Main Road, where our holiday home overlooks the sea. We see a train a few times each day, returning hours later. Of course, Tom, as a former railroad worker, enjoys seeing the train.

Each of the stacks has its own character. One stands slightly taller and more solid than the others, while the remaining two appear more slender and worn by time. The rock itself consists of soft shades of brown and grey, with patches of green where plants have found a way to cling to the stone. Waves crash endlessly at their bases, slowly shaping them, year after year.

It is easy to imagine what this coastline must have looked like long ago. The Three Sisters were once part of the mainland, connected to the cliffs of Table Cape. Over countless years, the ocean carved away at the softer sections of rock, gradually separating these pillars from the land. What remains today are the last fragments of that ancient connection, standing proudly in the water.

It’s been cloudy and rainy most days since we arrived at this house. Today, the sun is shining, and we’ll head out again soon.

From the lookout above, we could hear the distant roar of the waves far below. Seabirds drifted on the coastal winds, occasionally circling the stacks before gliding back toward the cliffs. There is something deeply calming about standing in a place like this, where the landscape reminds you just how powerful and patient nature truly is, particularly the sea.

Visitors often come here for photographs, especially at sunrise or sunset when the light casts long golden tones across the sea. But even without a camera, it is a place worth lingering. The view encourages you to slow down and simply take it in.

What I found most striking was the sense of quiet permanence. While towns grow, roads change, and travelers like us come and go, these stone formations remain, slowly evolving but never in a hurried manner. They have witnessed storms, calm seas, migrating birds, and generations of people pausing along the cliffs to admire them.

Although it’s cloudy and overcast, the scenery along the coast, near Three Sisters is still breathtaking.

In a region already filled with beautiful landscapes, the Three Sisters stand out not because they are the largest or most famous landmark in Tasmania, but because of their quiet presence. They are simple, natural sculptures created by time itself.

And sometimes, those are the places that stay with you the longest.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 12, 2016:

Later, upon returning to our holiday home in New Zealand, we laughed at this photo that appears to be what??? A six-legged cow? No. The photo is a fluke which one cow standing behind the other. Belted Galloway cattle, affectionately known as “Oreo cows” or “Belties,” are a Scottish heritage beef breed defined by their thick, double-layered, waterproof coats and a distinctive white stripe, or “belt,” around their midsections. They are hardy, polled (hornless), and efficient foragers known for producing high-quality, low-fat, and tender meat. We didn’t stay long for better photos when they began showing a few signs of aggression. For more photos, please click here.

Sighting with lots of new photos…Penguin Undercover Market and more to come…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
There we dozens of booths offering a wide variety of items.

On Sunday morning, we drove a short distance to visit the Penguin Undercover Market, open only on Sundays from 9:00 am to 3:00 pm. The sky hung low with soft gray clouds, and the air carried that cool coastal freshness that seems to define this part of Tasmania. We had no particular agenda when we left the house.

The Penguin Undercove Market is busy every Sunday from 9:00 am to 3:00 pm.

The market simply sounded like a pleasant way to spend an hour or two, and since it was so close to where we are staying, it felt almost like a neighborhood gathering we could not resist exploring. Then again, everything in Penguin is close, with a population of only 4132 residents.

The equivalent of a food court. Tom checked out the doughnuts on the far right.

From the moment we approached the building, we could hear the gentle hum of voices drifting outside the entrance. Inside, the space was lively and full of people. Locals moved slowly through the aisles, chatting with vendors and greeting one another with the easy familiarity of a small town where many faces are recognized. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, the sort of environment where no one seems in a hurry.

It even had some carnival-type games.

Row after row of tables displayed an impressive variety of handmade goods. It quickly became clear that the market was less about food or produce and far more about creativity. There were beautifully knitted scarves and sweaters in rich earthy colors, carefully stitched quilts folded neatly on tables, and racks of clothing made by local artisans. One table featured handmade soaps arranged in tidy rows, unwrapped, inviting lookers to smell the delicious scents. Another displayed wooden bowls and cutting boards that had clearly been crafted with patience and pride.

Each Sunday there’s a live band.

Although we admired many of these items, we both knew there was nothing we truly needed or intended to buy. Living the way we do, constantly traveling and mindful of the limited space in our luggage, we have learned to appreciate beautiful things without feeling compelled to own them. Still, that did not diminish the enjoyment of walking slowly through the market and seeing what people had created.

It’s fun to look at “stuff,” but there was nothing we wanted pr needed to buy.

What struck me most was the pride each vendor seemed to take in their work. Many stood behind their tables, eager to chat, explaining how they made their products or where their materials came from. Some spoke with quiet enthusiasm about the hours spent knitting, carving, sewing, or painting. Others simply smiled warmly as visitors paused to examine their displays. It felt less like a commercial marketplace and more like a community showcase of personal talents.

Cold weather hats and various types of clothing.

The crowd itself added another layer of charm. Families wandered together, children occasionally tugging at their parents’ sleeves when something colorful caught their eye. Older couples moved carefully from table to table, sometimes stopping to talk with friends they had clearly known for years. Conversations drifted through the room in soft waves of laughter and casual storytelling.

We giggled when we walked past the furniture. We certainly didn’t need any of this!

We took our time, strolling slowly along each aisle, pausing often just to look. Even without buying anything, the experience felt satisfying. There is something comforting about witnessing the demeanor of local life in places like this. Markets reveal so much about a community. They show what people enjoy making, what they value, and how they connect with one another.

Leather goods and miscellaneous.

After wandering through the entire market, we stepped back outside into the cool afternoon air. The street felt quiet compared to the lively chatter inside. As we made our way to a local market for a few salad ingredients, which happens to be open on Sunday, we both agreed that although we had not purchased a single item, the visit had been entirely worthwhile.

Fishing tackle.

Sometimes the simple act of observing a community gathering is enough. The Penguin Undercover Market offered a small glimpse into the creativity and friendliness of this charming coastal town, and for us, that was more than enough reason to be glad we went.

Back at the house, I made a big salad for dinner, carefully washing the pesticide-free ingredients. I couldn’t help but smile. This simple, uncluttered life is exactly our style.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 11, 2016:

This cria was named after Tom, “Minnesota” after we watched over the pregant mom alpacas when the owners went on holiday. For more, please click here.

Out and about taking photos…Food photos…Why is cooking so much fun in Tasmania?…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
Plains, tall grasses, and mountain-scape, typically seen in Tasmania.

Something is refreshing about simply getting in the car with no particular destination in mind, other than the hope of discovering a few worthwhile photo opportunities along the way. That’s exactly what we did yesterday—heading out for a leisurely drive through the countryside surrounding Penguin, camera ready, curiosity leading the way.

The landscape here is a patchwork of farmland that seems to roll endlessly toward the horizon. Wide green pastures, scattered farmhouses, and the occasional cluster of trees break up the scenery, while cattle and sheep graze as if they have all the time in the world. It’s the kind of countryside that begs to be photographed. Unfortunately, the logistics of doing so are not always quite so simple.

Cattle in the countryside.

Many of the roads winding through these rural areas are narrow two-lane stretches with just enough room for passing traffic. While the views are spectacular, there are surprisingly few safe places to pull over. More than once, we spotted a perfect photo: a hillside dotted with sheep, a weathered barn sitting proudly in a field, or distant mountains framed by soft clouds, only to realize there was no practical place to pull over.

It became something of a game between us. “Oh, look at that!” one of us would say, followed immediately by, “Too bad there’s nowhere to stop.” We laughed about it more than once, accepting that sometimes the most beautiful moments are meant to be enjoyed in passing rather than captured on camera.

I took this farm photo while we were moving.

Still, we managed to grab a few photos when small gravel turnouts appeared or when the road briefly widened enough to allow us to stop safely. Even when we couldn’t stop, the drive itself was rewarding. There’s a peaceful feeling to rural roads, the quiet hum of the car, the steady unfolding of scenery, and the sense that life out here moves at a gentle pace.

In many ways, the experience reminded us that not every adventure needs to be meticulously planned. Sometimes the simple act of exploring, of wandering through unfamiliar back roads, is enough.

This coming week, we plan to venture out even more, gradually exploring some of the popular attractions scattered throughout the region. A few local vineyards have already caught our attention, and we’re looking forward to visiting them, learning a little about the area’s wines, and perhaps enjoying a tasting or two along the way.

Red Flowering Gum tree, which produces vibrant clusters of red, orange, or pink flowers. These native trees are a popular, hardy, and spectacular feature in Australian gardens and streetscape.

For now, though, we’re grateful to be here, discovering the beauty around Penguin one country road at a time. Even when the camera stays in our laps, the memories are already being made.

On another note, I find myself spending more time in the kitchen than usual these days. That may sound surprising for someone who has spent the past thirteen years traveling the world, often relying on restaurants, takeaways, and whatever simple meals we could pull together in small kitchens along the way. But here, something about the abundance of beautiful local food makes it almost impossible to resist the temptation to cook.

Close-up of blooms on the Red Flowering Gum tree.

Tasmania offers an incredible selection of fresh ingredients. Everywhere we turn, there are markets, farm stands, and local shops filled with organic produce, grass-fed meats, free-range chickens, and some of the most wonderful cheeses and dairy products we have encountered anywhere in the world. When such high-quality ingredients are readily available, it feels almost like a privilege to step into the kitchen and create something with them.

Tom has certainly been enjoying the benefits of this little cooking spree. Each morning, he starts the day with coffee topped with what they call double cream here. It is rich, thick, and wonderfully indulgent, and he looks forward to it the way some people look forward to dessert.

This dish’s recipe was featured in yesterday’s post here. It’s delicious and reheats perfectly in the microwave.

Over the past few days, I have also been making him a hearty breakfast of butter-sautéed halloumi cheese with a side of bacon. The halloumi browns beautifully in the pan, forming a golden crust while remaining soft and salty inside. The aroma alone is enough to make the kitchen feel warm and welcoming early in the morning. As shown in today’s photos, it has quickly become one of his favorite starts to the day.

Tom is not currently following the OMAD concept that I am practicing. For now, I am sticking with one meal a day, focusing on packing as much nutrition as possible into that single meal while maintaining a vigorous exercise routine. It works well for me, and I feel great doing it.

Yesterday’s anniversary dinner turned out wonderfully, and fortunately, there is plenty left for tonight and tomorrow as well. Whenever I make a more time-consuming recipe, like the recipe featured in yesterday’s post with the photo of the finished dish today, I always prepare a large enough batch to last for three evenings. It saves time later, and somehow the flavors seem even better on the second and third nights.

Tom’s breakfast of butter-sauteed halloumi cheese with a side of bacon.

Along with the dish, Tom enjoyed his with rice and a fresh salad. I kept mine a bit simpler with a small avocado, broccoli, and salad on the side. It was truly a treat.

After we finish this post and I complete my exercise routine, Tom will likely enjoy his usual nap. Early this afternoon, we plan to head out to the Penguin Undercover Market, which runs from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon each Sunday. We will be sure to take photos and share them tomorrow.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 8, 2016:

The noses and lips of the cria are pink until they mature. This alpaca cria is only 24 hours old, hugging close to mom. For more photos, please click here.

Today is our 31st wedding anniversary…Celebrating with a favorite recipe shown below…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
On our Antarctica cruise, we were drinking French champagne while on the 10-person zodiac boat with icebergs and wildlife all around us. Memorable.

Thirty-one years ago today, Tom and I stood side by side and promised one another a lifetime together. At the time, like most couples standing at the beginning of their marriage, we couldn’t possibly have imagined where life would lead us. We knew we loved each other deeply, and we hoped for a happy future, but the details of that future were still unwritten pages.

Today, as we celebrate our 31st wedding anniversary, those pages have filled into a story far richer than either of us could have predicted.

In many ways, our marriage has been a journey, both figuratively and literally. Long before we ever packed a suitcase to travel the world, we were already navigating the many twists and turns that life naturally brings. Careers, family milestones, unexpected challenges, and joyful celebrations all shaped the path we walked together. Through it all, one constant remained: we faced everything side by side.

When I look back over these three decades, what stands out most is not any single event or accomplishment. Instead, it’s the countless ordinary moments that quietly built the foundation of our life together. The early mornings, the late nights, the shared meals, the laughter over something silly, the comfort of knowing someone understands you completely, even when you don’t say a word.

Those small moments are what truly create a marriage.

Of course, life isn’t always smooth sailing. Like any long-term partnership, we’ve experienced our share of challenges. Health scares, stressful moves, unexpected detours—each one testing our patience and resilience. Yet looking back now, those same challenges often strengthened our bond in ways we couldn’t see at the time.

Marriage, after all, isn’t about perfection. It’s about commitment. It’s about choosing each other again and again, even on the difficult days.

Perhaps one of the most remarkable chapters of our story began thirteen years ago, when we made the bold decision to sell everything we owned and begin traveling the world. At the time, many people wondered if living such an unconventional lifestyle would put stress on our relationship.

In truth, it did exactly the opposite.

Traveling together has given us the gift of shared discovery. We’ve watched sunsets on beaches halfway around the world, as we do today while in Tasmania, wandered through ancient cities rich with history, and found ourselves laughing over language barriers and unexpected mishaps. We’ve lived in homes across continents, met fascinating people from countless cultures, and learned that the world is both much larger and much smaller than we ever imagined.

But perhaps the greatest gift of this lifestyle has been time.

Time to talk. Time to reflect. Time to truly enjoy each other’s company without the constant rush that often defines modern life. When you live this way, you quickly learn that experiences matter far more than possessions. And when those experiences are shared with someone you love deeply, they become even more meaningful.

Over the years, we’ve also learned the importance of gratitude. Gratitude for good health, even after a serious health struggle I experienced in 2019, for the opportunity to explore the world, for the kindness of strangers who often become friends, and for the quiet comfort of simply being together.

As I write this today, I’m reminded that our marriage has evolved just as we have. The love we felt on our wedding day was genuine and strong. Thirty-one years later, that love feels deeper, steadier, and more resilient. It has been shaped by time, by experiences, and by the simple act of sharing life day after day.

I sometimes think about that younger version of us standing in front of a justice of the peace with three of our four kids standing beside us, all those years ago. If we could somehow tell them what the next years would hold—the adventures, the laughter, the challenges overcome—they might find it hard to believe.

And yet here we are.

Thirty-one years later, still walking this road together.

We may not know exactly what the next chapters will bring. Travel plans will continue to evolve, new places will capture our curiosity, and life will undoubtedly offer both surprises and lessons along the way.

But one thing remains certain.

Wherever the road leads next, we’ll continue traveling it side by side—just as we have for the past 31 years.

And for that, I am endlessly grateful.

Tonight’s special dinner:

Jess’s Low-Carb Sausage, Mushroom, and Chicken Casserole

● Prep Time: 20 mins
● Total Time: 1 hr 5 mins
● Servings: 8

INGREDIENTS

3 -4 cups diced cooked chicken

1 lb cheesy sausages

1 stalk celery, chopped fine

1 tablespoon onion, chopped

1/2 lb mushroom, sliced

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

16 ounces frozen cauliflower, cooked well and drained

8 ounces white cheddar cheese, shredded

1 cup parmesan cheese, shredded

1 cup unsweetened coconut cream (in a can)

2 tsp salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 tsp garlic powder

1 tsp onion powder

DIRECTIONS  (8 servings)
1. Brown the sausage with the celery, onion, and mushrooms.
2. Stir the softened cream cheese into the sausage mixture until well blended.
3. Coarsely chop the cooked frozen cauliflower.
4. Mix all remaining ingredients and spread in a greased baking dish.
5. Cover with grated Parmesan cheese
6. Bake, covered with foil, at 350º for about 30 minutes.
2. Uncover and bake until hot and bubbly and the top is lightly browned, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 7, 2016:

The sun was peeking through the clouds, casting a glow on a beach in New Zealand. Of course, the scene would have been more impressive had it not been so late in the evening. For more photos, please click here.

Travel warnings today…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
Getty Images A crowded check-in line at an airport (Credit: Getty Images)
Not our photo. Credit: Getty photos.

The news has been difficult to ignore lately. For those of us who have spent years crossing borders with a certain quiet confidence, the latest global travel warnings tied to the escalating conflict involving Iran feel different. Not just another headline to scroll past, but something that settles heavily in the chest of anyone who has built a life around movement.

Over the past week, governments around the world have issued increasingly urgent advisories. The United States has told its citizens to leave large parts of the Middle East immediately, citing missile and drone attacks and rapidly deteriorating security conditions. At least a dozen countries in the region are now under heightened warnings, with several closing their airspace entirely. For travelers, that simple phrase we have learned to respect, “airspace closures,” carries enormous weight. It means rerouted flights, sudden cancellations, and sometimes the uneasy reality of being stranded far from where you planned to be.

Australia has also updated its advice. Through Smartraveller, officials continue to warn Australians not to travel to Iran and to leave if it is safe to do so, noting the risk of reprisal attacks and further escalation across the region. Even for countries not directly involved in the conflict, the ripple effects are already being felt.

For those of us who live this nomadic lifestyle, these moments always bring a pause. Travel, at its heart, is built on a fragile kind of trust. Trust that planes will fly. Trust that borders will remain open. Trust that the world, while imperfect, will stay navigable.

Right now, that trust feels a little more delicate.

Across Asia and Europe, governments are lining up with similar guidance. Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, and Vietnam have all urged citizens to defer nonessential travel to Iran and monitor developments closely. Several European nations have gone further, advising their nationals to leave Iran while commercial routes remain available and warning that the situation could deteriorate quickly. When you see this level of global alignment, it tends to signal that officials are genuinely concerned about what may come next.

And it is not only about Iran itself. The wider Middle East is feeling the tremors. Airlines have already canceled hundreds of flights through early March, citing unacceptable security risks. Even travelers simply transiting through major Gulf hubs are being advised to keep a close eye on their itineraries.

For seasoned travelers, this is where experience quietly steps in.

We have learned over the years that global mobility can shift overnight. One moment, you are planning routes and hotel stays months in advance. Next, you are refreshing airline apps and checking government advisories with your morning coffee. It is not panic that sets in, at least not for us. It is something more measured—a gentle recalibration.

I find myself thinking about the many times Tom and I have passed through the Middle East on long-haul journeys between continents. Not long ago, we were at the Qatar Airport for a layover. Airports that once felt like familiar crossroads now sit under a cloud of uncertainty. It is a sobering reminder that the world, for all its beauty and wonder, is never entirely predictable.

There is also the human side of these warnings that often gets lost in the logistics. Behind every advisory are families deciding whether to cut trips short, business travelers scrambling to reroute, and long-term expatriates weighing difficult choices about when to stay and when to go. Officials are even warning that a wider conflict could trigger major population displacement if instability deepens. Those are not abstract projections. They are real lives, real uncertainty, real upheaval.

For travelers watching from afar, including many of us here in Australia, the practical advice remains steady and familiar.

Check official government advisories frequently.
Avoid unnecessary travel to affected regions.
Build extra flexibility into upcoming international plans.
And perhaps most importantly, stay calm but stay informed.

If there is one thing years of world travel have taught us, it is that conditions can change quickly, but they also evolve. Routes close, and eventually they reopen. Tensions rise, and with time, many ease again. The flow of global movement rarely stops forever, even when it stumbles.

Still, this moment does call for a little more caution than usual. Not fear. Not the cancellation of every dream on the horizon. Just awareness.

Be well. Be safe.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 4, 2016:

Trish and Neil, the owners of the alpaca farm in New Zealand, had recently acquired these two pink cockatoos, a mating pair, from an elderly couple whose health is failing. This pair is living in a chain-link cage on the grounds, with plenty of space and food. To get this photo, I placed the new camera, touching the closely woven chain link cage. For more photos, please click here.

Part 2…Exterior photos of our new holiday home and surroundss…A little about the history of Penguin…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 0 Comment
Aerial view of Sunrise at Penguin holiday home in Penguin, Tasmania.

There is something quietly endearing about the little coastal town of Penguin, Tasmania. It does not shout for attention the way some seaside destinations do. Instead, it welcomes you gently, with salty air, tidy streets, and the steady sounds of waves rolling onto the shore. Ten years after our first visit, arriving again felt less like discovering somewhere new and more like returning to an old friend who had been patiently waiting.

The walkway running along the shore in Penguin is the Penguin Foreshore Walking Trail.

Penguin sits along the northwest coast of Tasmania, about midway between Burnie and Devonport. With Bass Strait stretching endlessly before it and rolling green farmland rising behind, the setting alone is enough to slow your heartbeat. But what makes Penguin memorable is its personality.

This is a town that has embraced its name with a wink and a smile. Penguin statues appear throughout the streets and along the foreshore, playful reminders of the little fairy penguins that nest along this stretch of coastline. The most famous of these is the oversized penguin sculpture standing proudly near the waterfront, a cheerful sentinel greeting visitors as they arrive.

There are many rocky areas along the beaches, but plenty of sand as well.

Despite its charm, Penguin is not overly polished or touristy. It still feels like a real working town, where locals stop to chat on the sidewalk, and the pace of life moves comfortably below the national average.

How Penguin Got Its Name

Long before the town itself existed, this coastline was known for its population of little penguins, the smallest penguin species in the world. Early European settlers, arriving in the mid-nineteenth century, noticed the birds coming ashore at dusk and began referring to the area simply as Penguin Creek. Over time, the name shortened to Penguin, and it stuck.

View of Penguin from Terry and Fran’s home in the hills.

The town was officially gazetted in 1875, though European settlement in the area began earlier in the 1860s. Like many Tasmanian coastal communities, Penguin grew from practical beginnings. Timber cutting, agriculture, and small-scale shipping all played important roles in its early development.

What makes Penguin’s naming story feel especially fitting is that the birds are still here. At dusk, if you are patient and quiet, you can sometimes spot the little penguins returning from the sea, just as they did more than a century ago.

There’s an outdoor table and chairs on the front porch overlooking the sea.

Growth Through Industry and Community

In its early decades, Penguin served as a modest port. The surrounding region proved fertile for farming, particularly potatoes and dairy, and the town became a shipping point for local produce. Timber from nearby forests also moved through the area.

The arrival of the railway in the late nineteenth century helped Penguin grow steadily, connecting it more efficiently to larger Tasmanian centers. Even so, it never expanded into a major industrial hub. Instead, it maintained the scale and feel of a close-knit coastal community.

Another view of the shoreline in Penguin.

One thing that stands out when spending time here is how much of that community spirit remains intact. Penguin is known across Tasmania for its volunteerism and civic pride. Locals have long taken an active role in maintaining the town’s gardens, public spaces, and events. It shows in the tidy streets and the well-cared-for foreshore.

Steps down to the beach.

The Penguin of Today

Modern Penguin balances its working town roots with a quiet tourism appeal. Visitors come for the coastal walks, the relaxed atmosphere, and the simple pleasure of being somewhere that has not rushed to reinvent itself.

The Sunday market draws both locals and travelers, offering everything from homemade jams to crafts and secondhand treasures. On Sunday, we plan to go to the market and take photos there to share here.

View of the garden of the holiday home.

The beachfront playground and walking paths invite long, unhurried strolls, especially in the golden light of late afternoon. Yet what lingers most after a visit is not any single attraction. It is the feeling. Penguin has managed to hold onto something increasingly rare: authenticity without pretense.

When we drive through town now, just as we did ten years ago, there is that same peaceful sense of ease. The sea still breathes steadily against the shore. The little penguins still come home at dusk. And the town itself continues, comfortably and confidently, being exactly what it has always been.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 3, 2016:

Kitty-corner crosswalks are legal in many locations in New Zealand. For more photos, please click here.

Part 1…Photos of our new holiday home for the next six weeks…Sunrise at Penguin…Delightful!…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 2 Comments
This is the lounge in Sunrise at Penguin, one we enjoyed ten years ago and are enjoying and appreciating it as much as we did then! What a view!

Weather update: It has been raining here for many days. We are anxious to get out on a sunny day to visit some special spots and take photos. Today, we’re off to the butcher shop and then to Woolies supermarket in Ulverstone.

The well-equipped kitchen.

Stepping into this beautiful holiday home again, ten years after our first stay, felt like opening a well-loved book to a favorite chapter. Some places welcome you back without hesitation, and this one does exactly that. From the moment we arrived, a familiar sense of ease settled over us, the kind that only comes from a space that is both thoughtfully designed and genuinely cared for.

The lounge has comfortable furniture. As I write this today, I am seated on this leather sofa, overlooking the sea.

The home itself strikes that perfect balance between comfort and charm. Natural light pours generously through the large windows, illuminating the open living areas in a soft, inviting glow. Even on a cool Tasmanian morning, the space feels warm and alive. The layout flows effortlessly from one room to the next, making it ideal not only for relaxing but also for the gentle flow of daily living that comes with longer stays.

We had dinner at this table last night.

One of the standout features is the spacious living room, where plush seating invites you to linger longer than planned. It is easy to experience cozy evenings here, perhaps with a good movie or simply enjoying conversation after dinner. The furnishings are comfortable without feeling overly formal, creating a space that encourages us to put our feet up and truly unwind. After years of travel and countless temporary homes, we have learned to appreciate these small but meaningful touches.

The kitchen/dining room has many fine features.

The kitchen is another highlight and clearly designed with real living in mind. It is well-equipped with modern appliances, ample counter space, and all the cookware one could reasonably need. For travelers like us, who often prepare most of our meals, this makes an enormous difference. There is something deeply satisfying about being able to settle into a kitchen and cook as though we lived there, even if only for a short while. Everything is laid out logically, making meal preparation feel effortless rather than like a chore in unfamiliar surroundings.

There are three bedrooms. We chose this one, with the view and the most lovely sounds of the ocean.

Adjacent to the kitchen, the dining area offers a pleasant spot to savor our home-cooked meals. The table is perfectly positioned to catch the natural light during the day, making even a simple meal feel a bit more special. We have always believed that where you eat matters almost as much as what you eat, and this space proves that point beautifully.

The second bedroom.

The bedrooms continue the home’s theme of comfort and calm. Each room is thoughtfully prepared with quality linens, supportive mattresses, and enough storage actually to unpack and settle in. That last detail is one many holiday rentals overlook, but it makes a tremendous difference for longer stays. There is a quiet, restful atmosphere in these rooms that encourages deep sleep, something every traveler learns never to take for granted. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well last night. Hopefully, I’ll catch up tonight.

The third bedroom.

The bathroom facilities are equally well maintained, clean, and modern without feeling sterile. Good water pressure, plenty of hot water, and thoughtful extras all contribute to the sense that the owners truly understand what guests need. It is these practical comforts, working seamlessly in the background, that elevate a good stay into a memorable one.

The bathroom is a little unusual with the toilet in a separate room.

Outside, the property continues to shine. The surrounding area is peaceful and beautifully kept, offering a lovely sense of privacy without feeling isolated. Whether enjoying a morning coffee outdoors or simply taking a few quiet moments to breathe in the fresh coastal air, the outdoor spaces add another layer of relaxation to the experience. Tasmania has a way of wrapping you in its calm, and this home takes full advantage of that gift.

Location, of course, plays its part as well. The home is conveniently situated close enough to local shops and attractions to make errands easy, yet far enough removed to maintain a tranquil atmosphere. For travelers like us, who appreciate both accessibility and quiet, this balance is ideal. It allows us to settle into a comfortable routine without feeling cut off from the surrounding community.

The spacious entry room.

What makes returning here especially meaningful is the sense of continuity. So much has changed in our lives over the past 13 years of travel, yet walking through these familiar rooms brings back a flood of warm memories. It is rare to revisit a place after so many years and find that it still lives up to your recollection. If anything, this home and Penguin feel even more welcoming now, perhaps because we learned more clearly what truly matters in a temporary residence.

Above all, this holiday home succeeds because it feels intentional. Every element, from the comfortable furnishings to the well-stocked kitchen, reflects care and attention. It is not simply a place to sleep between outings. It is a place to live, even if only for a little while.

We’d love to dine outdoors, but it’s cold here now. On a warm day, we will enjoy this lovely outdoor dining area with a fireplace.

We are genuinely thrilled to be staying here again. In the unpredictable journey with long-term travel, finding a property that offers both familiarity and comfort is a gift we never take lightly. Ten years later, this lovely home has once again wrapped us in its quiet charm, and we are grateful to be back.

The exterior of the house.

To see this listing, should you have a chance to visit this magical town, please click here.

Please check back tomorrow for Part 2, Sunrise at Penguin, with more seaviews and outdoor photos.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, March 2, 2016:

Elouise almost looks as if she is smiling as she sees the cria’s birth was going as nature intended, with the front legs showing. We were also relieved. For more photos, please click here.

Photos and information about our current holiday home in Penguin, Tasmania…We’re moving in two days!…

Posted by worldwide-admin on with 2 Comments
image 1 of 8, Kitchenette image 1
This is the spacious lounge room with comfy recliners, a smart TV, and a well-equipped kitchen.

Link to Airbnb listing with pricing.

Street rod at the AmeriCarna show in New Zealand, ten years ago. We weren’t certain as to the model or year. For more photos, please click here.