We’ve finally moved into The Cottage. It was a really cold blustery day as we made our way up the Melba highway heading towards Mansfield. It seems that winter has finally arrived. By the time we reached Bonnie Doon the heavens opened and the rain came down in torrents. We had made good time and 2 hours 10 minutes later found ourselves at the estate agent in Mansfield collecting the key.

I have to admit that I felt really excited as we drove up the hill, crossed the narrow wooden bridge with torrents of water rushing beneath it, towards the cottage. As we turned into the Drive we could barely see the house due to the rain and mist but I was more than happy to jump out the car in the rain to swing the gate open at the bottom of the driveway to allow the car passage. I'm sure it will be the first of many a time when I have to jump out the car to open that gate!

On stepping into the house I knew I was home and it was such a wonderful feeling knowing that finally I was a (part time) country girl and that a dream had been realised. The house had been left spotless and even though I came armed with buckets and mops I found little use for them. We soon had the car unpacked and the groceries put away and managed to take Kippers for a short walk on the property. When suddenly the skies cleared and the sun appeared and a beautiful rainbow arched across the little storybook cottage below our property. A good omen indeed.


We awoke to a really misty/foggy Saturday morning. We couldn't see a thing, not even the bushes close to the house. As we sat and ate our breakfast we heard this distant thumping. Terry looked at me and I looked at him "Kangaroos" and before we knew it a mob of about 25 hopped passed our window and started to graze close to the house.

We were both enraptured. Our own mob of Kangas. We were soon pulling on our boots and out the door introducing ourselves. The Kangaroos weren't so fussed about us but one look at the dog and they were off. We pushed Kippers back into the house and followed them - some of them were huge big fellas - about 7 foot in height, others were mid sized carrying young ones in their pouches and a few were what I class - gangly teens - all feet, bones and clumsy looking. They were just as inquisitive about us as we were about them.

They wouldn't let us get too close but were happy for me to take some photos before hopping off to graze again.

The rest of the weekend went quite quickly and by Sunday we had the last of the single beds built and made up. Neighbours called in to introduce themselves and we learned from them that it was snowing in the mountains and that Mount Buller was experiencing blizzard conditions. We swapped stories, learned where everyone was from and made some new acquaintances. It was far colder at the cottage compared to Melbourne but not as cold as I have known it in winter in the UK but these are still early days and winter is not fully upon us.

On Monday the cloud had lifted and in the distance we could see snow topped Buller.

Only the top of the Paps could be seen as the Delatite Valley was shrouded by fog. I'm not sure how many times we walked/explored the property but every time we did we seemed to find something new and interesting. Our 200 year old tree has a massive trunk and I gave it a hug and spoke a few words to it. In fact, I found myself under its branches almost everyday and on the day of our departure I said goodbye and told it I would be coming back. Terry thinks I'm absolutely crazy but that tree is quite special as it was just a small sapling when very few white men walked this state/continent so it needs more that a little TLC!