Stay a little while
In today’s frenetic world, it seems as though we’re all running on the hamster wheel, increasingly time-poor and disconnected. We have forgotten what it feels like to have dewy, fresh grass under our bare feet, what good boredom feels like. A few nights i
The long drop has an instruction sheet pinned to the wall behind the lid. I am reminded of the classic episode from The Simpsons in which Ned Flanders lets Homer and the gang stay in his beach shack for the weekend, plastering it with helpful postit notes – including the ice tray (“Fill me with water”).
As someone whose family is camping mad, I find the intonation to dump a scoop of sawdust on my night soil charming and kooky, but the manual provides a stark clue as to Unyoked’s unashamedly millennial pitch.
Unyoked, the nature experience startup founded by Sydney twins Chris and Cameron Grant in 2017, has just launched its first two Tasmanian cabins, in Dorset’s agricultural Winnaleah.
The expansion into the island state, which occurred parallel to new cabins debuting across the ditch in New Zealand – it is also in the UK and all Australian states and territories except Western Australia, the Northern Territory and South Australia – shows the growing appetite for what Unyoked offers.
And here it is, in a nutshell: We are all running on the hamster wheel, increasingly time-poor and disconnected with nature. We have forgotten what it feels like to feel dewy grass between our toes. We have forgotten what it looks like to see a possum’s eyes glinting in the torchlight. We have forgotten what good boredom feels like.
A few nights with Unyoked might just change that.
The Winnaleah cabins are located deep within a cocky’s field, nestled between undulating hills and with only distant cows and boisterous black cockatoos for company.
The drive from Launceston is gorgeous, passing as you do through a series of charming towns – Scottsdale, Branxholm, Derby and Winnaleah.
The grass is unimaginably green, the brooks and rivers clear as glass, the cowdotted hills evocative of England.
Upon parking at the property, we dump our belongings in wheelbarrows, conveniently situated beside the carpark, and push them about 1km to the isolated cabins. These cabins – “eighth generation, architecturally designed”, Cameron Grant told TasWeekend – really are a marvel.
A stone-rimmed circular fireplace surrounded by tree stump seats is overlooked by a tiny balcony.
Inside is a queen-sized bed, kitchenette and bathroom, the latter of which is unexpectedly attractive – it wouldn’t be out of place in a four-star hotel.
The key point to note is that all the traveller needs to bring is an overnight bag with clothes and a toothbrush, and enough victuals to feed themselves for the length of their stay.
The cabins have everything else one could possibly need – cooking equipment, oil, tea and coffee, a kettle, electricity, firewood and grog (the latter two
requiring a small fee billed at the end of your stay). A small external hutch contains a large cast-iron pot and jaffle iron for fireplace cooking.
The jaffle iron especially delights me – it has been about a decade since I last dined on the glorious sealed toasty, and my friend and I loaded our duffels with tinned spaghetti in anticipation.
As if this doesn’t sound like a stroll in the park already, upon booking, travellers are invited to download the Unyoked app that has additional information such as directions and a handy reminder of what you need to bring.
My friend and I spent a whimsical two days exploring the countryside – Tasmania’s North-East may not have the tourist pull of the Central Highlands lakes, western wilderness or Tasman Peninsula but it really ought to.
On day one, we drove out to the East
Tamar wine region, stopping in at Pipers Brook Vineyard to share a bottle of crisp, acidic rose and sup on what was easily one of the best toasted sandwiches I have ever had.
The following day, we went waterfall hunting. First stop was Ralphs Falls, perched atop moody Mt Victoria.
After a short walk through dripping the rainforest, we found ourselves staring into a sea of fog, water rushing in our ears – not the best day to see the precipitous drop.
I was, however, finally able to re-create the subject of German Romantic artist Caspar David Friedrich’s famous painting Wanderer above the Sea of Fog.
Nearby St Columba Falls, located much closer to sea level, was a far better sightseeing proposition for the crisp, cloudless day.
I stood rooted to the boardwalk just 10m away from the base of the falls, mist enveloping me and rainbows dancing about my periphery as the powerful river bore down on the rocks below.
An information plaque informed me St Columba Falls have never been witnessed to run dry.
My time spent staring at the majestic waterfall also took on a timeless quality – forever moving, forever rooted to the same spot.
Our day concluded with a jaunt out to Pyengana Dairy, where I couldn’t open my wallet fast enough to take advantage of two glasses of wine and a cheesetasting plate for just $29.95.
And then, upon arriving back to our cabin at dusk, we relieved Unyoked’s bar fridge of its sippy-pouch wine and got drunk under a sea of stars.
The author was a guest of Unyoked