I'm home now.
Home being a relative term, that is.
I've been traveling since exactly June 4th, and while it's incredibly comforting to be back in a familiar country with familiar comforts, I'm missing Australia like crazy. So I'm turning back through my old photos and journal entries, trying to remember every little detail, intent on making travel a regular part of my existence, somehow.
I'm going back to June 7th when I flew from Melbourne to Hobart, Tasmania, and drove a tiny little stick shift by myself around the very cold, rugged island. From Hobart to Freycinet National Park to Cradle Mountain to Launceston, every inch of Tasmania is just beautiful.