Before checking in to my hideaway, I took shelter from the winter rain at a local island winery—because let’s be honest, no rain, no flowers, right? Much to my surprise, the hosts had left a complimentary bottle from the very same winery on the wooden kitchen bench, alongside a handwritten welcome note. Now that’s a bit spesh!

The lounge took centre stage in the main living area, complete with a crackling wood fire, a cosy couch, and even a pet bed for furry companions. One end of the house featured the main bedroom with crisp cotton sheets, while the other offered a second chill zone with a desk nook. The bathroom boasted a large shower stocked with lemon myrtle body wash—ahh, hello Gorgeous! Out back, the deck opened onto a grassy yard and fire pit, framed by coastal plants and cactus. This adobe was a doggo’s dream—no wonder it’s pet-friendly. And yep, there was a loft. A. LOFT. This place was full of surprises: another living area, a downstairs bathroom, laundry, and an outdoor shower—with hot water! Talk about #jackpot.

Upstairs held a snug, open space with a sitting area, a queen bed, and—you guessed it—another dog bed. Minimal, but with everything you need. That evening, as the skies cleared, I lit the fire pit and poured myself a glass of sweet sherry I found next to the record player. Let’s just say I played that guitar like no one was watching. The sherry told me I was iconic; my head the next morning said otherwise. Sweet Caroline... never again. (Maybe.)

To shake it off, I wandered down to the nearby beach for a very brisk dip, then dashed straight into the steamy outdoor shower. The contrast of cool air and hot water was electric—one of those moments where you feel vividly, wildly alive. A little birdy at the winery had whispered about unmissable toasties from “The Store,” so off I went. One mushroom toastie with added hash brown later and yep—she wasn’t wrong. Mouth-watering, and what a vibe.

Most visitors come to Phillip Island for the penguins, and sure, they crossed my mind—but I had my sights set on the elusive Cape Barren Goose. They roamed the open paddocks, and so did I. Growing up on a farm gave me the sneaky skills I needed: duck, duck, goose? Surely the same. I crept behind a tree, followed its shadow, and got my photos—plus muddy boots, messy hair, and a soaked backside from slipping in the grass. Who’s the goose now?

After another hot shower, I rugged up and wandered back to the beach for sunset, then tucked into the cosy warmth of the cabin as wind howled through the night. The record player spun soft tunes, the fire flickered, and I eased into the stillness. Check-out came too soon. I gave thanks to my hideaway for keeping me safe and warm, then hit the road once more.

Who knows what the next adventure will bring? Shall we play on, my friends…