It seems that the 'Fear Of Missing Out' isn't a phenomena reserved exclusively for Millennials . . .
Up and at ‘em again after starting our Big Lap with a severe case of the Flu, we finally started to come good again and were keen to explore a Tasmanian Summer. Rolling off the Spirit, we headed to a private property we had found on WikiCamps. It was ideal: right on the foreshore, an expanse of green lawn and shady trees, toilet and shower for guests and close to a penguin colony.
The following day we set off without the shackles of the camper in tow, to explore the North coast. And so began my first experience of traveller FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out: On the ultimate campsite. Tasmania sure knows how to do Free Camping. Beach after beach, river after river, headland after headland. Breathtakingly good free camps revealed themselves to us as we followed the coast along to the West.
How can I be experiencing FOMO when I was now living the dream I had previously FOMO’d over? We were following a few other traveling family pages on Facebook and each evening I’d see updates of cracking campsites only mere kilometres (and a couple of times, metres!) from where we ourselves sat. Maybe their spot had better beach access? Safer swimming. Afternoon shade. A prettier view. It was ridiculous! We were all looking at the same sunset after all. I had to get over myself and be content with the brilliance we were experiencing on its own terms.
On our last night in our first Tassie camp, I bundled the kids up in warm clothes with a torch each so we could stumble down to the beach to quietly wait for the little shy penguins to return to their burrows. The owner of the property had given me specific directions on where exactly to patiently sit. The cold dusk settled into darkness and both my legs went numb with the weight of a sleepy child on each thigh. Alas, we had no luck so 2 hours later, cold and tired, I carried them up the rocks and back to the camper in the moonlight.
The next morning, after packing up and moving on to the West Coast, I was chatting with another family who had camped within cooee of us over the last week. Comparing our parallel adventures thus far, my conversation partner exclaimed at my story of a failed penguin hunt. ‘Oh we were camped at the next cove over from you. The penguins came right up past our caravan every sunset without fail. You would have loved it!’
A Fanatical Sabbatical
‘Mark, Kim and the kids are leaving behind their home in the Adelaide Hills to jaunt around the country side while they manage their arborist business remotely. Normally enrolled in ‘bush school’, they thought they could push the kids outdoor eduction experience a little further by living outside for a year.
And follow them on Facebook @AFanaticalSabbatical