We’re a couple of weeks into our six-month outback station experience now, and I feel like this is the part no one really talks about…
The settling in.
Not the exciting arrival.
Not the “first week, everything is new” stage.
But the bit in between where reality kicks in, routines start forming, and you’re left figuring out where you actually fit in it all.
And if I’m being completely honest this part hasn’t been easy for me.
The Highs (Because There Are Plenty)
There are moments where I absolutely love this life.
The warmth (goodbye Victorian winter 👋), the slower pace, the fact that we’re doing something different something we chose. This is why we head north, why we travel, why we said yes to this opportunity. We have always asked ourselves as we have driven by Stations on our travels I wonder how they do?...... Well now we are finding out.
Those moments feel really good.
But then…
The Lows (The Raw Bit)
There are also moments where I feel completely out of my depth.
John has taken to this like a duck to water. He’s loving it the variety, the physical work, being part of the farmstay, working alongside the team.
Me?
I’ve never lived a farming life.
I don’t understand sheep talk.
I don’t know machinery.
Fencing, land management, shearing nothing it’s all completely foreign to me.
And even though we’re here to work on the farmstay, not the station itself, the reality is Fiona and Adam are farmers first and foremost. They’ve grown up in this life.
So I find myself asking how do I connect with that? Am I coming across as the stupid city slicker?????
How do I find common ground when I feel like I don’t even speak the same “language”?
And that’s where the feeling of being a bit lost has crept in.
The Daily Routine (And the Disconnect)
Monday to Thursday, I’m tucked away in the caravan working on the computer.
And don’t get me wrong I love what I do. It’s no different to when I’m at home. I’ve always worked independently, just me, my laptop, and some music in the background.
So it’s not the work.
It’s not even the remoteness.
But there’s something I can’t quite put my finger on.
John heads off each day, comes home for lunch sometimes, then back out again. Some nights he’s late if he’s on a dinner or sunset tour/dinner shift.
And when he comes back I feel disconnected.
Which is strange, because I never came here expecting to be part of the farmstay “crew” in the traditional sense.
From the start, I was clear I could give 5–6 hours here and there, mostly around admin, marketing, maybe helping with cheese platters or pitching in when needed. That was always the plan. I was upfront and honest Im not able to give any more, I have to look after myself as I have Fibromyalgia and I am still learning to manage it. Now more than ever I need to, there is no osteopath or massages to help ease my aching body and no spa to hop into to soothe the throbbing.
So why do I feel like I’m not part of it?
A Random Pub Run That Felt… Not So Random
Earlier this week, neither of us could be bothered cooking.
John had a few days off, but I was still deep in moderation calls, and by the end of the day we just looked at each other and said “Let’s go to the pub.”
So we jumped in the car and did the roughly 50km round trip into Eromanga for dinner.
Simple, right?
But walking in… I felt weird.
Like I had “city slicker” stamped across my forehead.
Everyone seemed to know each other. There’s this unspoken familiarity in those small outback towns, and you suddenly become very aware that you’re the outsider.
And I found myself thinking is this what it’s like?
Not in a bad way — just different. Another reminder that we’re not just travelling we’re stepping into a completely different way of life for a period of time.
The Unexpected Feeling
The best way I can describe it is I sometimes feel like a 1960’s housewife on a farm.
Keeping house (or caravan life version of it).
Cooking, baking, cleaning.
Filling water tanks, emptying the toilet.
Preparing meals for when “the farmer” comes home.
Repeat.
And I’ve caught myself wondering…
Do I resent that?
Or am I just adjusting?
Because this isn’t who I see myself as.
But at the same time it’s also just part of this lifestyle.
The “Fixer” in Me
Then there’s another layer to it.
The business and marketing side of me can see so much opportunity here.
So many ways things could be streamlined. Systems put in place. Processes that could make life easier for everyone. The creative eye in me can see amazing spaces.
And it’s hard to switch that off.
But I don’t want to overstep, I don't want to bombard and overwhelm Fiona with my ideas or thoughts and I absolutely do not want to take away from the incredible job she has done building this place.
Fiona and Adam have done an amazing job building Toogunna to where it is in just three short years and that’s no small feat out here where getting supplies alone can be a challenge. I also know going into an unknown season because of the fuel crisis and the world around us must be incredibly hard to look at, not wanting to invest and not get the guests but also needing to keep going and building and providing amazing experiences.
So I find myself holding back.
Watching. Learning. Figuring out where I fit.
And maybe that’s part of why I feel unsettled.
I’m a fixer and a get %&* done by nature and right now, I don’t quite know where or how to jump in.
Am I Lonely? No. But…
The interesting thing is i’m not lonely.
I can head up to the farmstay or homestead, mingle with guests, be part of it whenever I choose.
But lately, i’ve actually been enjoying the opposite.
Curling up on the bed with a book.
Watching a movie (can't tell you the last time I watched two movies in a week at night)
Slowing down in a way I never would at home.
And maybe that’s part of it too learning to be okay with that.
Finding My Groove
John is genuinely living his best life right now and I love that for him.
But this is the part where I need to find my version of that.
My rhythm.
My place.
My way of connecting whether that’s finding a hobby, finishing my courses, colouring, writing or connecting with the people here, the work, or just the lifestyle itself.
Maybe this is what settling in actually looks like.
Not instant comfort.
Not everything falling into place.
But questioning, adjusting, and slowly finding your feet.
Because this experience, It’s not just about where we are
It’s about who we become while we’re here. Its also about settling my nervous system and letting my body know it does not have to be in fight or flight mode all the time it can turn off and relax and just be. I can use this time to tune into my body, find my triggers for flare ups, find who I am beyond being a mum and a wife and as my psychologist says to me learn how many spoons I have left in my day.
And I think this one is going to stretch me in more ways than one 💛