Bonjour mes ami!

Can you remember the last time you slept in the same bed away from home, for more than two weeks? For me it’s been a good fifteen years. Back in 2011, I jumped off the life treadmill and curled up in an Indian Ashram for two weeks. Not exactly The Ritz – picture a dorm full of thirty-ish sweaty, curried-up yogis on concrete bunk beds with paper-thin mattresses. Comfortable? Er… no. Memorable? Yes. Life-changing.

It’s now same-bed-day thirteen for us in Paris. We’ve booked a cute one-bedder apartment in the 11th Arrondissement for the month of May, and it already feels like home. A morning routine of a Ceylon Orange Pekoe brew (my only Sri Lankan souvenir), chilling on our 4th floor balcony and gazing the skies filled with criss-crossing jet streams, is one I’m 100% embracing.

Today’s itinerary involved a Canal Saint-Martin stroll and a croissant from Du Pain et des Idées (So. Damn. Good), a coffee from Ten Belles (GOOD), then we headed home and I dived into remote working for my clients back in Oz. On a shorter visit, this could be credited as precious time wasted in a city that offers a million+ things to do, see and importantly, eat. But knowing there’s still seventeen days left to ‘do’, takes the pressure off needing to run around like an over-caffeinated tick-lister.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a solid count of must-achieves before we head off. I’m just extra grateful we have a little more time to do it… slowly. A concert one night, a market the next morning. A meal or three at home, a 20km mindless backstreet meander, a day trip to Versailles, an exhibition, or an evening picnic in the park. Then of course, some work (In case any of my clients are reading).

Enough ‘me’ Substack indulgent rants. There’s many tales still to share, but here’s a few experiences to consider adding to your Parisian schedule.

Marché (market) Bastille
Bd Richard-Lenoir, 75011 Paris

My pupils dilated. Before me lay an abundance of unpasteurised deliciousness – aged compté, farm fresh chèvre, small gooey ash-covered blobs and large slabs of large stinky truffle-veined ones – fromage sourced from many different regions across France. Yum. Next stop, a sea of ocean oddities I’d never seen (or tasted) before – let’s try the rouget (red mullet) merci! Hello big fat green and white asparagus, fragrant, sweet strawberries, and wild, oversized artichokes, all in season. Load ‘em up!

Every Thursday and Sunday morning the tree-lined grand Boulevard Richard Lenoir, just north of the Place de la Bastille is filled with enthusiastic vendors selling the finest fresh fruit n’ vegetables, cheeses, meats, terrines, pate, olives, nuts, breads, baked goods, freshly shucked oysters, flowers and more.

This is a local, authentic market experience and often considered by Parisians to be one of the finest in town. They rush from one stall to the next with dogs and trollies in tow, barely tolerating the snail-paced tourists (us) as they busily action their weekly pantry restock. If you find yourself being ignored like we were on our first visit, it’s because the locals neatly queue at the side waiting to be served. Oh yes and take Euros with you. Many sellers are still cash only.

Palace of Versailles
Place d’Armes, 78000 Versailles
(A bit of a train trip, but it’s still in Paris)

19,000 steps later and we’re home. Just the two of us, and 27,000 other tourists having made the day trip to explore the magnificent former royal residence dreamt about, then built by King Louis XIV – the Palace of Versailles.

The walls are embellished in gold and mirrors, candle-hungry chandeliers, imposing statues and many a painting idolising Louis XIV a.k.a. ‘the Sun King’ and his impressive wins during his first two decades ruling the nation (1643 - 1663).

I distinctly remember that pause and ‘wow’ moment, walking into the Hall of Mirrors for the first time some thirty years ago. At the age of twenty-three and on my kickstarter solo backpacking trip it was all rather humbling. In the 90s, these far away places were other worldly, dystopian, somewhere across the universe that we experienced in school teachings, movies and books.

Today it’s quite different. It’s peak-hour busy at the main Palace as we enter at our pre-booked time slot (make sure you book!). Phone cameras firing in all directions and bustling tour groups on the run to ensure they make it back for lunch. It’s hectic, but it’s absolutely worth snaking your way through and admiring the vast network of heavily decorated rooms and hallways.

It’s also easy to escape the masses. A 30-minute stroll along the Grand Canal/Ocean gets you to the Grand and Petit Trianon Palaces, and the whimsical Queen’s Hamlet, the national-income-emptying playground of a young, naive and somewhat ill-fitting Marie Antoinette. You can spend a few hours here exploring these more intimate spaces, where it’s easy to find a perfectly manicured garden all to yourself.

A Few Shared Moments

Best eats:

• Already mentioned – the Bastille Market haul takes this week’s finest eat trophy. More highlights included crispy radishes, pork and peppercorn terrine baked in chunky pastry, breakfast oysters (way to early for me, but Adriano gave them the grinning seal of approval) and post-market brunch.

• Long weekend reunion lunch with old friends at Brasserie Martin in the 11th. The classic bistro-style dining was delicious, but it’s the stories and laughs, and the hours flying by, that made it unforgettable.

Best ‘worth the effort’ moment:
The hours spent Airbnb doom-scrolling to find this little gem of an apartment. We’re not leaving.

Flat point:
The first, mediocre croissant. It’s ok… with appropriate Virgo research the bakeries have since got a whole lot better.

Cultural observation:
The French love inhaling nicotine. They are a nation still properly addicted. It’s not just the young ones, it’s grandma walking her fluff ball in the park having her first morning strike-up. It’s guys my age sucking and puffing on their strawberry-infused buzz-sticks. So strange coming from a country where it’s a proper outsider habit. Vive la différence oui?

And… onwards! 💚

Hello friends!

Travel today, whether we like it or loathe it, is driven by the populous of algorithms. Be it a Google search for ‘Best surf breaks in Sri Lanka’, ‘Vinyasa Flow retreats in Mexico’, or Instagram serving up that rope swing in the coconut palms you queue (and pay) for to recreate ‘that shot’.

Go back to the early 90s and adventures were planned by guide books and published articles. We’d rely on the expertise of seasoned travel writers to curate the best two-week Italy itinerary and recommend the cheapest, most authentic pensione for nona-made gnocchi. The bookish tribe would be served the same recommends, but there was still a wonderful sense of uncertainty and discovery. No booking.com reviews and photo galleries… just rock up and be ok with roll-the-dice room availability.

I backpacked through Normandy, France in 1994 and took the wrong, last train that terminated in a small town I’d never heard of. It was late. I wandered the streets in hope of finding a bed, but the lights were out and doors firmly closed. I ended up sleeping in a bus shelter for the (rather long) night. Not exactly ideal, but I survived, and it gave me a good travel tale to share.

Today we can find the smallest off-grid hut on Google Maps to book 6 months in advance. We can chat with a driver in Peru on WhatsApp, found through Gemini. Have we removed the magic of properly being away? Knowing that plans won’t always go well, but a plan B can often mean a unique-to-you tale to tell?

Enough rant… back to travel tales!

Here’s a few moments from our last magical, hot n’ sweaty week in lush, tropical Sri Lanka.

Elephant Safari
Udawalawe National Park

It’s dawn. The first call of the day – a crowing peacock in the forest on the hunt for some morning loving – signals the 5.30am get up.

We’re going on Safari.

We clamber into a battered 1969 windowless Land Rover with a few million clicks on the tachometer. She rumbles into action. Soon we’re wind-in-hair en-route.

Warm hues glimmer on the horizon as silhouettes of deer, buffalo and submerged crocs (or are they Alligators, I always mix them up) drift by. Dextrous Green Bee Eaters dive in and out of the trees. A man-sized iguana crosses our path.

As we round the corner, there he is. Two tonnes of solo, male elephant… mowing and mulching away. His trunk is a tool of precision – it even has teeth. He gathers a bunch of grass and leaves, then *thwack thwack*, he bashes it against the ground to remove any soil before brekkie is delivered.

Elephant’s sense of smell and hearing are bionic. This is made clear when our driver decides to exit the 4WD. In an instant he’s charging towards us. All two tonnes of him. I’ve never seen someone leap back in the car so fast. He stops… slowly retreats, and returns to his peaceful eat, ensuring he meets his 160kg/day quota of greenery down the shoot.

Bali wannabe beach life
Hiriketiya

A local troop of Toque Macaque Monkeys leapt from the surrounding trees to the awning of our homestay, Cirque de Soleil’d up our kitchen window with a brief ‘what’s cooking?’ look in, landing on our rooftop for their daily 6am wrestling match.

Bang Bang. BANG. “They’re ripping the roof off” I remarked.

For our last week in Sri Lanka we’ve parked it at Hiriketiya Beach – a picturesque, crescent cove of coconut palm-lined golden sands with the perfect surf break. It’s also an L-plate surfer haven on an unpatrolled beach, so taking a plunge requires travel insurance.

For a country where only 35% of city and district centres have waste collection services, this coastal spot is kept remarkably clean. There’s a sense of local pride as surf instructors rake the beach every morning in preparation for their next wave of backpacking clientele.

It feels like Bali 15 years ago, with a fast-growing number of architect-designed yoga spaces, smoothie bowls, La Marzocco espresso pit stops, Ayurvedic gut pumps, and ‘I Want It That Way’ playlists pumping from beachfront bars.

Fortunately there’s still a good sense of local to be had just a few metres back from the shoreline. Family-run Lemongrass Cafe became our regular for 5 days, serving up bottom-less authentic, home-style curry and rice – pumpkin, green bean, beetroot, gourd, mango, potato and carrot curries, all washed down with a mango lassi and a Lion beer. Just yum.

Sri Lanka, what a treat. Thank you, we’ll be back soon.

A Few Shared Moments

Best eats:

• Curry and rice featuring the complete garden – half-dozen endless plates for 3 nights at Lemongrass Cafe, Hiriketiya.

• Street vegetable roti snacks – First Roti Hut, Hiriketiya

Best ‘worth the effort’ moment:
I’m not a fan of zoos, so getting up for early close encounters with elephants in their natural habitat? Hello childlike wonder. Just magic.

Flat point:
A day of power outage in 33C 1,000% humidity heat. Yes, a first world problem, but the brain was melting.

Cultural observation:
It’s rare to see a Sri Lankan lose their karmic cool. Our experience has been they are incredibly calm, gentle people. I only ever saw one gentleman lose it at some kids swimming in the rip of the ocean after dark. Fair. Quite a contrast to their long and drawn out, violent history we’ve learned so much about from afar.

And… onwards! 💚

Hello friends!

With a few blisters and bites on our feet, last Friday we wrapped three unforgettable days of hiking Sri Lanka’s Pekoe Trail. This 300km trail made up of 22 stages – of which we completed a mere 35km, 3-stage slice – winds its way across the island’s central highlands: lush, Jurassic mountain-scapes, endless tea plantations, and colourful, welcoming village communities – a world away from the bustling, sweaty cities of Colombo and Kandy.

We managed to squeeze the must-haves for our journey into our day packs. Mine was busting at the seams, but had all the essentials – a filtering water bottle (best invention ever), a bucket of sunscreen and mozzie spray, toothbrush, undies, ginger nut biscuits (a local staple), and the trusty AllTrails App that saved us from plenty of wrong ‘lacking way-finding’ turns along the way.

Day One:
Misty Tea Mountains and Thunder Clouds
Haputale to St Catherine

Our 600m ascent began in the cooler morning hours from the small, in-the-clouds hillside town of Haputale. After a few near misses with tuk tuks, we joined Stage 13 of the Pekoe Trail and were soon in the thick of a dense, damp forest, alive with unfamiliar bird songs and hungry leeches eager for a tasty ankle brekkie snack.

Emerging from the thicket, we continued upwards through an endless sea of manicured tea plantations, wrapping the mountain-scape in swirling geometrics as far as the eye could see… an intoxicating abundance of green, glistening in the morning light. In a matter of minutes, huge walls of misty, ethereal clouds would engulf the vista in a giant white fog, bringing a welcome but brief respite from the day’s heat before clearing to reveal the valley and ocean beyond.

After five sweaty hours, we reached the peak, enjoying a final, flatter hour through botanical-grade tea gardens. We passed young lovers on motorbikes taking selfies, before approaching the postcard village of St. Catherine, with a cricket match in full swing on the central green, and our first homestay awaiting. Susanthan, our 21-year-old host, greeted us alongside his parents, their two dogs, a few relatives, and curious village onlookers – all welcoming us with warm smiles and head wobbles.

Susanthan is an electrician, a builder, a tuk tuk driver, an engineer, a chef, a cleaner, and Liptora Homestay host. This is the only accommodation available in this small tea-plucking village, still yet to be discovered by influencers. He talked of renovations and adding more rooms. A true entrepreneur in the making.

Within minutes of arrival, we were in the eye of a thundering storm serving up golf ball-sized hail. Bang. Within minutes, buckets and mops were in full emergency mode, with water pouring through the living room ceiling. Fortunately, our room stayed watertight. Fast forward an hour and the roof leak is repaired, and the wok is frying hot… cooking our dinner. Plumber, roofer and chef Susanthan at the helm, prepping us a tasty homestyle rice and curry. A little heavy on the salt, but far from lacking flavour.

All this for the cost of $40.

Day Two:
A Zigzagging Descent
St Catherine to Makuella

The morning’s kickstart was fuelled with a jaggery-charged masala chai, a spicy yellow lentil dhal and freshly ground curry leaf sambal, served with fire-charred roti.

Stage 14 – we left the village via a winding dirt road, weaving its way through a terraced patchwork of carrots, cabbages, eggplants, red and green (killer) chillies, plus an abundance of the staple spice for any Sri Lankan kitchen – curry leaves – being tended to by local farmers and their families before the heat of the day furnaced. The surrounding hilltop tea plantations on this plateau are the finest I’ve ever seen. A visual meditation.

We zigzagged our way down the 300m cliffside into the valley below in our pricey hiking boots and quick-dry get-up, passing local tea pluckers navigating the vertical terrain in nothing more than flip flops and saris.

The afternoon ridge trail was shaded by a familiar forest-scape of towering Australian Ghost Gums. Aussie Silver Oaks are scatter-planted amongst the tea as a windbreak and to provide shade. Some well-travelled Brits back in the day clearly put our botanicals firmly on the world map.

Day Three
Jaw-dropping Vistas and Train Track Treks
Makuella to Ella

After a brekkie of kiribath (coconut milk rice… one of Sri Lanka’s staples) and sweet coconut and jaggery sambal, we reconnected with the Pekoe for the final hike day – Stage 15.

Smattered across the tea and forest landscape, we encountered barefoot, smiling women balancing huge, perfectly wrapped bundles of sticks on their heads, making their way down the hillside. Buddhist temples were alive with New Year celebrations, and many a “Hello” and “Good morning, Sir” came from locals. The views from the mountain path across to our final destination below – the backpacking town of Ella – were proper breath-takers. Thunderous waterfalls, and thick, matted jungle alive with the call of monkeys and birdlife.

For the final few kilometres, we walked the train tracks into Ella. Once a remote, indigenous mountain village, the Brits (here they are again) built a railway – including the infamous Nine Arches Bridge, opened in 1921 – linking the tea plantations to the coast for export. Today, Ella is a full-blown backpacker hub, complete with oat lattes and smashed avo (yes… I heard an Aussie at a café ask, “Do you have avo?”).

We made it!

What a treat. If you’re Sri Lanka-bound, be sure to check out at least one stage of the Pekoe Trail – a truly world-class, magical, and not-too-hard-basket hiking experience.

A Few Shared Moments

Best eats:

• Frozen buffalo curd (thick, rich and creamy) with kithul honey at Mee Kiri as an arrival reward.

• Freshly made dosa with dhal and (proper spicy) coconut and onion sambals for brekkie at The Cubes, Ella.

Best ‘worth the effort’ moment:
Scaling back our accommodation to a local homestay experience. Staying in a small tea-picking community showed that even when material life is simple, family, friends and kindness are rich.

Low point:
Reaching the peak on day one and dealing with a slam-dunk migraine. Altitude + heat + sweat = the perfect storm! Fortunately, it settled within the hour.

Cultural observation:
There’s an authenticity to the Sri Lankan people. When a child waves, smiles, says hello – they’re not trying to be cheeky or smart… it’s a genuine, warm connection.

And… onwards! 💚

After a week of clean, orderly and sensible Singapore time, we’ve just spent two days in Colombo city, Sri Lanka – the contrast is hard to ignore.

Colombo is heady, humid, ultra-sensory and everything un-Singapore. Wafts of wonder surprise you from nowhere. “That’s not *gag* ok” I remarked. The depths of Mordor hit my nasal passages when exiting the hostel this morning. There’s something strangely familiar going on here though. Memories of India travels back in 2010 – that same intensity, that same feeling that things aren’t always neatly wrapped and polished.

The Moment

There was a moment where everything shifted.

We were strolling Galle Face Green early Saturday evening. It felt like the whole city had come out to play. Families, lovers and friends all enjoying the precious open space along the ocean promenade.

The sky was alive with animal-shaped kites and a proper jaw-dropper sunset. Vendors selling lentil patties topped with prawns from makeshift kitchen carts powered by car batteries. At one point an ice cream truck rolled past belching thick black diesel smoke. Messina had arrived!

What stood out most though were the small interactions. A smile here, a wave there. And genuine eye contact. A simple acknowledgement from a stranger... it’s a basic gesture, but it felt noticeably absent in Singapore, where most people seemed superglued to their smartphones.

That magical evening brought back a familiar warmth from earlier travel days – a kind of quiet joy that I hadn’t realised I’d been missing.

The Reality Check

Colombo doesn’t let you sit in that joyous feeling for too long.

The intensity is constant. The smells, the noise, the pollution, the intense heat, the hassling and humidity, the visible poverty – it’s all smack bang in front of you. There’s a clear sense that life here is harder, and that basic things we take for granted like sanitation and fresh drinkable tap water aren’t a given.

At the same time, there’s connection, and a level of presence you don’t always see in more developed countries. People look at you. Sometimes it’s a friendly glance, sometimes it’s a more intense stare that you’re not quite sure how to respond to.

The Pre-flight Check

And then there’s the lead up to this 365-days-away adventure – the chapter that doesn’t get talked about much.

The months of trying to reduce our lives down to something that fits in a backpack weren’t exactly smooth sailing. I didn’t share that with many people before leaving, mostly because it felt indulgent to complain when about to hit the road for a year. The general response was fair enough – you’re going away for a year… what are you complaining about!

But the reality is, making a shift like this happen involves a sizeable tick list and a decent slab of pressure.

There were times it put stress on our relationship. Work didn’t wrap up neatly. Plans constantly shifted. Simple admin tasks turned into drawn-out, very un-Virgo processes… there were plenty of moments where it felt like the whole thing was just not meant to happen.

The Shift

And then… you finally arrive.

Not just physically – that part happens when you touch down at pit stop A – but mentally, which takes a bit longer to catch up.

Something has started to shift. There’s a lightness beginning to creep in. Being surrounded by new environments and climates, unfamiliar streets, and new interactions seems to wake something up.

It’s a reminder that our brains thrive on new input. That sense of routine and familiarity at home, while comfortable, can tend to blur things over time.

A Few Shared Moments

Best meals (impossible to choose just one):

• A home-style street market lunch in Colombo, with enough chilli to shred a few layers off my throat, all balanced out by a sweet clay-pot lassi.

• Chinese-style steamed fish at my brother’s home in Singapore.

• Hawker market breakfast with my 7-year-old niece — kaya toast (coconut jam and a kilo of butter) with thick, condensed milk coffee.

Best ‘worth the effort’ moment:
The first Business Class leg of our round-the-world Frequent Flyer trip. Being able to lie flat and sleep. It’s going to be hard to go back.

Low point:
Getting halfway to Melbourne airport in an Uber and realising I’d left my carry-on behind. Not ideal.

Random observation:
Airport lounges make it ok for people to drink red wine for breakfast.

And… onwards!

I know... it’s been a good while since my last blog update. But I’m excited to be back at the QWERTY, sharing the next chapter in our ongoing adventure of constructing a smallish dwelling with you – just in time for (all going to plan) our first Tiny House Christmas. Exciting developments are afoot: the builder's deposit has been paid, the trailer construction is progressing, and the windows and doors are currently in production. Even a shipping crate awaits the completion of our window order in China, ready for its journey across the high seas to reach us Down Under in late September.

Yes, friends, the tiny house-build wheels are finally in motion!

This time last year, we had the keenest of intentions to be parked and living in our tiny by now, but then came along a client who wanted every building detail to be mulled relentlessly over to ensure a bruise-free living space, architect-wannabe specification of materials and most importantly, optimal positioning of the (my) outdoor shower. The delay feels more than worth the investment. This little luxe shed will be providing us with many unforgettable life experiences – so that couch/day/night bed needs to be 6-star comfy, those stairs spaced just enough to avoid the midnight bathroom run tumble, and the shower under the stars be every bit as wonderful as it’s planned to be (Can you tell it’s an important inclusion?).

We’ve been working with talented building designer Sam Bell from Bellhaus this year. He has transformed our 2D conceptual drawings into professional builder’s plans with pinpoint accuracy, bringing much-needed expertise to the design process. I thought our builders would be slightly thrown with all the detail, but it has been warmly welcomed. We’ve minimised any construction guesswork by providing a millimetre-accurate roadmap.

As some of you would have experienced, countless hours of conversations, research and rethinking go into creating a new living space—more than you could ever imagine. I’m unsure if planning tiny builds requires the same time and energy as needed for a larger dwelling. Still, I’m sure the work we’ve done to date is a decent slice of a more traditional house design… just squashed into a little box on wheels with no formal building code to stick to!

I spoke to our builder last night. He’s committed to having us parked this November, just in time to celebrate that first off-grid, composting toilet-loving Christmas (Loving, as long as that ventilation fan keeps humming). To say that’s slightly exciting is an understatement. Adriano and I are like little kids in a lolly shop.

There’s a load to do in the next few months, including procurement of all house fittings and, importantly, finding our dream north-facing parking spot with endless vistas around 60mins from Melbourne. We’re actively circulating our website and flyer on community noticeboards, Facebook Groups and amongst friends. If you have or know someone with space, please drop me a line! We’ll also annoy our builder with regular Gippsland drop-ins to see how the construction is progressing.

Thanks for sticking with me, and I’ll be back in the next few weeks with a progress update as the months are going to fly. In the meantime, here are a few learned tips.

A few tips for budding Tiny House builders

• Be clear on your living space requirements from the word go. All design decisions will stem from this all-important starting line.

• Write a ‘day in your tiny life’ plan, from sitting up in bed in the morning to gaze out the window, without banging your head for a cuppa, to having somewhere to put your reading a book, to where you put the rubbish when cooking, or store your winter jacket and boots when coming in from the rain. Try not to miss a second!

• Ask experts and ‘people who’ve been there before’ lots of questions about building materials, space flow, storage and room positioning to ensure they are fit for purpose. Facebook Groups are excellent for this kind of support as the tiny house community is loyal, supportive and not short of opinion!

• You have virtual earthquakes and tornadoes to deal with when transporting your home from builder to final destination, plus it will be exposed to the full force of Mother Nature when parked. Be open to less traditional material specifications to meet weight requirements and durability to ensure the longevity of your home.

• Love your design but be open to change. The first idea is rarely ever the best one.

• Be patient… there will be plenty of lesson-learning bumps in the road.

There seems to be an endless lineup of starting blocks for our tiny house build, small hurdle after small trippable hurdle. But finally, after so many meetings, Sketchup models and 3004 iterations of our floorplan I feel like we’re nearing race-ready. The green light for our build is just around the corner.

I met with our builder Ryan from Base Cabin earlier last week to discuss the finer details – things like wall cladding materials, floors, rooflines, powerpoints and everything else that’s stretching us to meet the 4.5-tonne, 4.3m high road-worthy requirements. We’ve been through it all before I’m sure, but fortunately, he’s not only patient, but he seems quietly confident that our design can in fact be built.

The biggest challenge with designing a tiny house when you’re a ‘designer’ by trade, but not the one trained to ‘make buildings’, is that you have a clear vision for the outer aesthetic and inner workings, but when it comes to putting a structural spine to the build we’re running naked. So today I’m meeting Sam Bell from Bellhaus, an incredibly experienced and knowledgeable building designer. He’s been our mentor, ensuring we won’t flood the bathroom or fall down the stairs on 1am no.1 run, cramp when reaching for the dunny roll or zap ourselves boiling the kettle. I think you get the picture… he’s ensuring all the puzzle pieces fit.

Get the details right

Whether you’re working with a builder or a designer (draftsperson, building designer or architect) for your tiny house, getting the detailing as right as possible is a critical planning step. Skip this and you’ll have a few features of your home that don’t work, or look quite as you expected. Here’s a list of a few worth adding to your list (Thanks Sam):

• Floors – how do they finish and connect to doorways and walls?

• Windows and doors – how do they connect to the floors and walls?

• Kitchen – door design, handle positions, kickboards and bench thickness.

• Stairs – aim for more traditional stair proportions, you’ll thank me for this tip!

• Bathroom – how are you keeping the water in the shower and out of the wall cavities (water loves to travel)?

• External – ensure your smartest-looking cladding is on the visual side of your home, and your deck roof isn’t too high.

• Loft (if it’s on your list) – make sure you have sufficient head height to sit up in bed for a morning cuppa (The one brought to you of course).

In the next few years, I’m confident we’ll see more architects and building designers taking on the tiny house build as a serious client commission. This support will mean improvements in approach and design, hopefully without a significant increase in price tag.

Worklife/tiny balance and our build persona

Working full time whilst trying to keep our tiny project humming along certainly has its challenges. In an ideal world, We’d have taken 6 months off to focus on the design and build management. Our timeline would have been significantly shorter, but the cogs of self-employment have only one driver (Quick self-promo plug… check out joshmurray.com.au).

Adriano and I make for a niche tiny house persona profile in that we’re not planning to live in our home full-time. We’re not building it as an Airbnb income stream either. It’s going to be our smaller-footprint country shack.

For many years we’ve dreamed of a block of land in the country to call our own. Not so we can build a McMansion with an Olympic-sized pool, helipad and tennis court. Rather, a minimal footprint dwelling to retreat from the city beat. Somewhere to pause, read and reconnect. Breathe in the fresh air. Grow an heirloom tomato or three and perhaps an olive tree. Dig a few holes. Taking the time to light a fire, gaze at the stars and share stories with close ones.

I know some in the tiny house community may look down on our vision, but we feel very comfortable with our not-excessive dream. Call it our permanently parked campervan. Our city pad is a modest apartment that celebrates Enoughism – a conscious living decision that allows us to close the door and head to our tiny escape without worrying about lawn mowing and gutters.

Right… enough ‘us’ rant! Back to finalising our floorplans.

As always I love hearing from you so please share any questions or feedback below. Thanks for reading!

After receiving such positive feedback on my last article (Thank you btw!) I thought I’d continue the inspiration with a step-by-step guide to planning and designing your tiny house as a non-architect. This guide talks to everything we’ve learned so far on our journey. I’ll be breaking this down into a few newsletters to avoid an all-at-once overload in your inbox.

This article should fill your brain abrim with possibilities. Enjoy exploring the architectural globe, and don’t restrict yourself – now’s the time to let your imagination run wild before putting more practical pens to paper (We’ll cover that step later in the series). So here are 5 ways to help create a visual foundation that will shape the direction of your future tiny house… from floor to stargazing ceiling.

1. Create a Mood Board

Let the pinning begin! A mood board tells the story of what you love when it comes to the look of your home – it helps lay the foundations that will shape your build aesthetic and floorplan… be it a two-bedroom off-grid nordic cabin or an Airbnb-friendly pod in your backyard. Park the technical brain for now and let your taste do the talking.

I’d recommend building your mood board in the digital sphere by utilising one of the platforms below. Corkboards are cute, but nothing beats the convenience of digital that allows you to easily add, edit and evolve your thinking over time.

Pinterest
This app is for both Desktop and Phone and has a gargantuan library of home inspiration. Once you sign up for your free account you can search and browse Pins (Pinterest’s word for images), saving the ones you like to your own boards. Name your board’s things like Rooflines, Deck, Kitchen, Bathroom, or even just Tiny Houses to start with. You can easily update them later. For ideas take a peek at my Tiny house interiors board.

iPhoto (Apple) / Google Photos (Apple/PC)
If you’re browsing the web, flicking through a magazine or out exploring and spot a house you like, then your phone’s photo storage is a great option. Create folders to organise your images for easy access, avoiding the doom scroll to find the picture of that showerhead you loved last year on vacation.

Corkboard – go oldskool
Ok, I had to include it to save the comments coming flying in! Head to your local stationers and grab a corkboard, pins, scissors and post-it notes.

2. Seek out inspiring photography

There are 1,000s of tiny architectural images to be found online. Look through Google Image Search as well as the more visual social media channels like Pinterest and Instagram.

Head to your local bookshop or library to discover an abundance of beautiful and inspiring books devoted to cabins and tiny living spaces. If you’re like me and you can’t stop talking to colleagues, friends and family about your tiny adventures, the book gifts will start to roll in thick and fast. :)

3. YouTube

I’m far from being the first person to share a tiny house journey with the world. There are 100s, ok possibly 1,000s who’ve taken the time to document their experience through video on their own YouTube channels. There are also dedicated YouTubers travelling about and profiling different tiny builds across the globe.

Here are a few channels worth a look:

Living Big In A Tiny House
With over 4.4 million subscribers and hosted by New Zealander Bryce Langston, this would have to be far and away the most-watched tiny house channel. Enjoy story after story of people living and loving the tiny house dream.

Exploring Alternatives
A slightly broader channel that features 100s of videos about alternative homes – from living off-grid to micro-apartments in the city, from homesteading to self-built tiny houses, sustainable living, and everything in between.

Never Too Small
This channel is dedicated to small-footprint design and living – it features award-winning designers and their micro apartments, studios and self-contained projects. It will give you a wonderful window into the world of sustainable, small-footprint living.

Beau Miles – Secretly building my wife a $60 cabin
This isn’t a tiny house channel as such, but Beau is a great storyteller and makes for great watching. I particularly enjoyed this episode where he decided during COVID times to build his wife a ‘Junk Cabin’ in the paddock without her knowing for just $60!… with his 6-month-old daughter as an accomplice.

4. Listen to Podcasts

There’s a lot to be learned from conversations. Step outside for a park walk and immerse yourself in a few of these faves.

Tiny House Conversations
Australian tiny houser and yoga teacher Lucy Lichtenstein interviews tiny house dwellers, builders and adventurers on her Podcast. She does a good job of making those who may not be so comfortable in front of the microphone relaxed and chatty.

Tiny House Lifestyle Podcast
Quite the industry veteran, Ethan Waldman’s podcast features interviews with tiny house experts, pro and self-builders, and more.

Candid Tiny House
Shannon Schultz’s Australian podcast hasn’t been updated in a while, but there’s some sound nuts n’ bolts advice to be found in her interviews with people who have built tiny houses on trailers made by her partner Fred – who also loves a good chat!

5 . Book yourself a tiny house escape

OK, that’s enough searching, reading, watching and listening – nothing beats the experience of actually staying in a tiny house to know if it works for you. Treat yourself to a weekend escape in a tiny house. Here are a few favourite providers I’ve experienced that may just be your local…

Unyoked (Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom)
This was my partner and my first tiny house experience when we stayed in beautiful Oberon NSW last year – just one of the many locations Unyoked now has tiny accommodations available to book. It was magic. A 15 minute walk down a trail filled with butterflies brought us to our very own valley for 2 nights. Their style is more ‘glamping’ and showcases good coffee, bed linen and most importantly, an amazing copper rainshower.

Rare Stays (Global)
Some truly drool-worthy abodes to explore here from Iceland to Indonesia. Among the mega-mansions, you’ll find some tiny design excellence, like The Bide ultra contemporary stay pod in Dorset, United Kingdom.

Airbnb (Global)
Yes, they are a multi-national mega organisation these days with a load of commodity-style stays, but Airbnb does have a sizeable range of welcoming tiny accommodations on offer – they even have a treehouse category. Try this hot tub hottie in Tasmania.

A sneaky final tip – Connect with the community and seek out in-person exhibitions showcasing the latest tiny house innovations and building designs. There’ll be talks by industry experts too – on everything from the latest legalities around permanent tiny house living, solar systems, toilet systems and loads more.

If I’ve managed to hold your attention to this point then wonderful! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you’re feeling appropriately ‘tiny inspired’. Please share any useful sources of inspiration or stories of your own journey in the comments below.

Having a north-star vision will minimise mistakes and ensure your home gives you many years of brief-meeting pleasure. Here are five must-dos before putting nail to wood.

1. Work out how you live

Are you building your home for full-time living, as a regular escape pod from the urban beat, or perhaps it’s a side hustle to create a rental income stream? Knowing this baseline before you start will define the function and foundations of your design. For example, living full-time with a low-ceiling loft bedroom that you can’t stand up in vs. a single-floor dwelling with a separate, full-height bedroom space makes for a very different experience.

Write a ‘day in the life’ timeline of how you live now… sunrise to lights out. From there assign functional home needs for each task. Having this ‘bible’ to refer back to will ensure all elements of your design make sense. Here are a few examples:

Wake up | Sit up in bed
Task: I need enough ceiling height to sit up comfortably in bed and read

Wake up | Reach for my phone
Task: I need a power point next to my bed

Day to day | I hate washing up
Task: I need a dishwasher (Speaking of my own laziness here)

Coming home | I need storage for my boots
Task: I need a shoe shelf or drawer next to the front door 

2. Choose your climate and utilities status

Living in the tropics means your build will focus on staying cool and being able to escape the midday sun. In colder climates, you’ll want to be snug as a bug with adequate insulation, heating and possibly some kind of air exchange system.

Living off-grid in a tiny house can mean a composting toilet, water tanks, propane, a wastewater management system and solar power. A markedly different experience to suburban life where you’re connected to sewerage and on-grid power. More decisions need to be made for off-grid living, but both scenarios require solid planning.

It’s ok not knowing where you’re going to park your tiny home 6-12 months out from completing your build, but having a sense of environment and access to on-grid conveniences is essential.

3. Find a tiny mentor

Sure this is your ship, but having a ‘been there done that’ expert on your team will elevate your build well beyond your expectations. It could be an architect or a draftsperson, or even a colleague who had completed a self-build tiny. How thick are the walls? Do I need double glazing on my windows? How many windows do I need? What’s the difference between LPG and Induction? Do I go with an incinerating or composting toilet? You get the picture! Bother the pants off them and lean in… I promise it will be a game-changing plugin for your tiny house build journey. You might even forge a good friendship out of it.

If you don’t have a mentor then connect with the online tiny community. A few helpful links are below. They love diving into the trenches for all things composting!

4. Set a realistic timeline

If you’re planning a self-build tiny then it’s going to require a solid slab of time, so say goodbye to socialising and normality for a good while. Throw in the reality of working full-time then it will take even longer. If you’re planning to work with a full-service provider, then the timing logistics will be determined by how busy they are and materials availability. Paying your deposit will secure your place in the build queue.

Tip: If going with a tiny house builder then ask lots of questions and make sure you have a contract in place before commencing your build… expect timelines to blow out a little.

5. Define a budget

Yes, the money part. Create a spreadsheet and break it down into individual spaces in your tiny home. List out the finishes you like, the things you need for each space and where you can source them. The amount of detail required here will depend on how involved you are with your tiny house build. If you’re opting for a turn-key home then this specification will be simpler, focusing on decisions like which tiles you want in the bathroom, and what colour your will walls be. At the other end of the spectrum is the self-build where detail will be your friend. Drop me a message below if you’d like me to share a template spreadsheet to work with.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Planning is your friend. Do the groundwork now and I promise you the road ahead will be exciting for all the right reasons.

Final thought… don’t start to sweat the uncertainty of finding a parking spot too far out from being ready to park your tiny home. Like finding a rental property, there’s little point in starting the search more than a few months out. Most likely the landlord won’t be prepared to wait, or even if they are, should another offer come along they will most likely take it.

Got any more helpful tips for budding tiny homers? Please share in the comments below.

Resources

Australian Tiny Houses – Facebook Group
Tiny House Spaces Australia – Facebook Group
Tiny House Conversations – Great podcast by Tiny Houser Lucy Lich
Australian Tiny House Association – Latest advice around tiny house living/legal

So Glomad? Is it a name, a noun, a doing word? A state of enlightenment? An Aesop-loving globe hopper? … well, after forty or so drafts of an elevator pitch, my ground floor exit landed on the following four brand aspirations:

Enoughism:
Content with having just enough ‘stuff’

Tiny Living:
Smaller, less concrete-swallowing abodes

Mindfulness:
Self-awareness in amongst ‘the busy’

Meaningful experiences:
Seeking like-minded connections and wonderful adventures

A little too unachievable and happy gas’d? Perhaps. But I’m loving the challenge of bringing a cohesive, real-life and attainable story together from all this idealism. And perhaps there’s something there that connecting the dots for you right now.

An additional content plug-in will be sharing the journey of our tiny house build over the next 6-12 months. My partner Adriano and I are getting close to finally putting the build in motion, as covered in Issue 1 last week.

As an Art Director/Designer type, starting from square one with a new brand is always such an exciting challenge, particularly when it happens to be your own. With this new baby, I have the opportunity to explore and share with you a world of thinking that has been mattering to me more and more over the past decade. It’s going be a discovery mission, publishing a few sparks and seeds of inspiration every week to perhaps make your life just that little bit more fulfilled.

Right. Let’s get this engine started. Thanks for reading, and lookout for Glomad Issue 3 coming to your inbox next week.

P.S. Your comments and feedback are always most welcome.

I’ve coerced Adriano into countless weekend escapes exploring valleys, forests and rugged coastlines, but we’re yet to have taken the financial (and emotional) leap to make our dreams come true.

Well, that’s all about to change… we’re close to green-lighting our first tiny house build.

This project will embody ‘enoughism’ living. I'll deep dive into this concept in future articles, but for now, I’ll share with you the essence of this philosophy – having just enough of the essential ‘stuff’ in our lives allows for a far more comfortable and rewarding life experience.

The question people often ask after hearing my news is “Where’s it going to be built?” “Absolutely no idea,” is my response. This may sound somewhat concerning, but that’s the joy of building a tiny abode on wheels. Just tow and park it at your idyllic destination and be sure not to live in it for more than 60 consecutive days. On Day 59 you’ll probably spot us scenic driving around the block for 24hrs.

For trailer builds, there’s no need to buy land and go through the challenges and delays of council approvals, connecting to power and sewerage. A tiny house is classed as a caravan by law, and ours will be completely off-the-grid. Say hello to fingers-crossed self-sufficiency – pending there be enough sunshine for power and rain for the shower.

Of course, we have a wish list of ideal parking locations within a 90mins drive of central Melbourne. As soon as we dive into the build, hopefully in early 2023, we’ll have around 11 weeks to madly letterbox drop and community notice board pin ourselves stupid to secure our first perfect rural rental space.

Given we’ll be seeing a lot of our newfound landlords, they should understand fully what’s involved in our rental agreement. It’s important to ensure the landowner that parking our little pod on their land is going to cause them little if any disturbance, plus it will provide them with a passive income stream. Surely it’s a no-brainer? I’ll be keeping you in the loop of just how smoothly this process pans out.

Finding a builder has been a patience game. If you follow any kind of tiny house YouTube channel or social account, you’ll know that there are a lot of mock-suburban-home tiny builds going on. White plastered walls, big screen TVs, lots of cubby-house storage units, MDF joinery and super glossy finishes. There’s nothing wrong with this building approach, it’s just not us. We’re lovers of considered architectural design and are on a quest to live a more sustainable life. Design can respond to an environment and building materials don’t have to destroy our planet. Not knowing exactly where we’ll be parked can make design planning a challenge, but a sense of connection to the Australian landscape, more naturally occurring materials and comfort are front and centre in the brief.

When dealing with a floorplan of 8m x 2.5m, every centimetre counts, and efficient use of space is paramount. The challenge when designing tiny is to think outside the boundaries of traditional home planning and finishes. When you’re heading to the country for a week off the grid, there’s one word that comes to mind above all else… comfort. That means the world’s comfiest couch and bed. Start from there and you’re winning.

Holy moly. Writing and publishing this first post for the Glomad journey has been a few solid weeks in the procrasto-making. What’s Glomad? That’s coming in post number 2 next week (just made myself publically accountable for delivery), so please sign-up below and join us on our tiny-build journey over the next 6 to 12 months. Many mistakes will be made… many lessons will be learned!