The decision to move to Tasmania. Part 1

While tucking into cheese tasting box in a tent at the festival, we decided, we were moving to Tasmania, regardless,  be it on the mussle farm we wanted or our boat till we found somewhere just as nice. 

When we landed in Tasmania for our first family holiday - woven around The Wooden Boat Festival at Hobart - almost 2 years ago - we sat on the Dock overlooking the marina, fresh off the plane and  we decided that we would move here. It was a mix of the old wooden boats, the food, the air and the heritage which grabbed us.  I think the rest of the trip was done with the Real-estate Australia App perminently on. That night we stayed in Primrose sands on the water,  and I went into overdrive on looking at all the farming options and regions. We then made a list of the non negotiable....It had to be on the water, it had to be near fruit producing area, he wanted cattle at some stage, I wanted to continue to make my jam, I wanted a 100+ year old heritage house ( this one I lost out to) , and it had to be the east coast for the sailing, had to have some kind of potential more more than just farming, to have good schools nearby and close enough to the Hobart to daytrip/or airport. From this search were 2 properties that interested us. One at the very north of the country, a chalet/mechanic business overlooking the water - with the idea of buying another large inland farming block  and the other an old mussel farm to the very south. We decided to change our holiday plans slightly and go and visit both.
That next morning we headed off super early, the a few days before the festival kicked off and drove down south, through all the little towns oohing and ahhhing, Antiques, orchards, marinas, apple-sheds with little heritage houses sprinkled across the landscape. I was so excited, I loved the cold from spending a decade in Europe, but my chap, with most of his working life living in either hot mining or outback farming conditions, north of Western Australia, was going to need convincing as he wasn't a fan of the cold. He didn't need convincing driving through along the waterside. I naturally loved the weather, it being similar to mild Irish summer and loved the idea of continuing our simple life. We contacted the agent and did a walkover.   I loved it from the moment I drove down the drive. We were sold. It was perfect for us - ticking all of my boxes , except for the house - that wasn't heritage but it was lovely enough to live in and maybe, someday do changes later on down the track.  We then went back up to the festival & continued on rest of our tour around the state. I remeber tucking into the tasting box of cheese, on the dock drinking Willy Smith Cider both deciding that we were committing to the move - regardless on if we got the property or not. We would just live on the boat till we found something we loved as much. The second north property was lovely too, different, great potential,  but ultimately it didn't compare.  So by the end of the trip, and hundreds of detours off to see potential passing farms, we decided to change our last few nights accommodation from Hobart  and go and stay opposite the Old Mussle farm in a rented chalet to see what it was like in the morning. My biggest concern was for my chap - I know how the winter weather can be very harsh & bleak, and I told him that although he was smitten on the property, he had to come back in the dead cold of Winter for a week - and see what he liked it.  Regardless on what he thought we decided that it was time to move, while the kids were only 8 months old and 2.5, that we were on the move. Now it was just a massive rush to get back home, get the house renovated, pack up the business, sell the property and hope like hell that no one in the mean time puts an offer on it. It was game on.