To his credit, Terry didn’t hesitate. He and his dear wife, Fran, immediately invited us to come directly to their home in Penguin so we could sort it out together. When we arrived, their lovely house overlooking the vast blue of Bass Strait felt like a refuge.
The ocean stretched endlessly beyond their windows, the air cool and fresh, carrying that unmistakable briny scent that always makes me feel grounded and small in the best possible way. They generously offered for us to stay in their home for the full 17 nights until Sunrise became available on March 1. It was such a kind and heartfelt offer. Truly.
But as we often say, we don’t even like staying in the homes of family members for extended periods. We use copious amounts of WiFi. We keep unusual hours. We have our routines, our quiet work patterns, and our simple dining habits. After so many years of living this way, our independence has become part of our lifestyle. We prefer not to intrude. We’re content to pay for a rental and be on our own, even if that means smaller spaces or simpler surroundings.
Fran and Terry completely understood. Without a hint of irritation or defensiveness, they immediately began calling other landlords they knew in the area. Phones rang. Websites were searched. Availability calendars were scrutinized. One after another, the answer was the same: fully booked.
For a while, it felt like the walls were closing in. Summer in Tasmania is busy. Coastal towns fill quickly. We were discovering that firsthand.
Finally, after a few hours that felt much longer, they found a solution. A friend of theirs had a holiday home about seven minutes away that was available for our exact dates. It felt like a small miracle.
Last night, after all the scrambling and uncertainty, we returned to Terry and Fran’s home from a lovely dinner they hosted at The Neptune Grand Hotel Bar Bistro. Their generosity left us humbled. We slept in their guest room with its ensuite bath, grateful and thoroughly exhausted.
The exhaustion was layered. On Wednesday night in Auckland, after a wonderful dinner at the hotel restaurant, we climbed into bed knowing our alarm would sound at 5:00 am for our early flight. Neither of us slept more than a few hours. The mind won’t relax when it knows something important awaits before dawn. Then came the four-hour flight, followed by the four-hour road trip from Hobart to Penguin. By the time our heads touched the pillows last night, we were spent.
And yet, it felt so good to sleep.
Today at noon, we’ll move into the temporary holiday home. We’ll pay for these extra nights, of course, money we would have paid Terry anyway. On March 1, we’ll transition into Sunrise at Penguin as originally planned. It’s a bit of shuffling, but manageable.
This morning feels calmer. The worst part, the uncertainty, is behind us. But, as usual, we didn’t panic or overreact. We knew we’d figure out a solution.
Soon, once we’re settled in the new place, we’ll head to the market for groceries. There’s something comforting about that first grocery run in a new town. Choosing meat, dairy, and produce. Establishing our small domestic footprint in yet another corner of the world. Depending on how quickly we get settled, we’ll likely cook dinner tonight. A simple meal will feel grounding after a few days of travel food and restaurant dining.
Now, with rested eyes, we can finally appreciate Penguin properly, the stunning ocean views, the cool coastal breeze, and the friendliness that seems woven into the fabric of this small Tasmanian town. What began as a potential disaster during the busy summer season. has revealed itself as something else entirely: a reminder.
Plans can unravel. Text messages can be misread. Calendars can betray us. But Kindness? Kindness shows up when you least expect it.
Yesterday could have been a story of frustration. Instead, it became a story of generosity, problem-solving, and the quiet reassurance that even when things go awry, we are rarely alone in the world.
Today, we exhale.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, February 13, 2015:
