Last time I looked at the blog we were preparing to leave the beautiful dreamy island of Mauritius. I had lost most of my ability to use grammar correctly and developed a tan on my back.  Two phenomenons that prior to visiting that island were about as likely as Auckland’s new restaurants staying open after the World Cups over.

So, by way of an update, Richard and I arrived in Hobart in the middle of a cold dark winter’s night in July.  It was beautiful.  We’d spent eight hours in Melbourne airport waiting for our connecting flight, a situation that no amount of dry tasteless sandwiches and $12 pints can improve.

A friend later described the first time she arrived in Hobart and drove over the bridge as absolutely jaw-dropping.  I’m still trying to retrieve mine from the floor.  As the ever-present Mt Wellington came into view I felt a mixture of awe and excitement.  But mostly, after all the travelling, it was revitalising.  We were finally home.

Since then, we’ve moved into our beautiful house, situated handily in between the restaurant strip and the waterfront. We’ve planted an expansive herb garden and negotiated getting a kitten.  Every day on my walk to work I find new treats to experience.  My eyes have taken a battering.

We’re enjoying discovering our slice of paradise and I can’t resist sharing it all with you.