3 days in hobart was what we planned, a dreamy little mini-break, before the baby arrives in a couple of months, forever turning our two into a three. 3 days should be enough for it to feel like a holiday here in this sleepy harbour town; without any of the noise and the traffic and bustle and honking of always busy sydney.
as if by magic we’ve found ourselves in a little home away from our home; a haven for vintage lovers and comfort-seekers alike, filled with shelves that play home to curios and trinkets, collected and preserved by someone who cares. and in this little haven filled with still-loved treasures, we too feel wrapped up and safe, as if our very presence is not only welcomed here, but needed to create that feeling of home.
because what is a home if not lived in and nurtured and cared for as homes should be? such is the magic of a place in which we guests feel that we belong. and on this afternoon, with its’ scattering of showers mingled with dappled sunlight, we too will sink into the sofa with a book in hand and forget just for a moment that we came to hobart to see other places.
instead we will feast our eyes on the pastel-coloured canisters filled with tea, and the teapot kept warm with a cozy. and the brightly-coloured cushions, soft and plump, and shiny mirrors that dutifully share light around the already well-lit room.
it’s the type of space we don’t ever want to leave. and in this moment, we have no intention of doing so. because we know that it’s perfectly natural to spend the afternoon stretched out lounging lazily, giving in to the pressing temptation to read just one more chapter, until the rain clears.