“This house is our family shack.”

A note from the owners: “This house is our family shack. It is full of books, shells, music and special items that our grandparents and family have collected over the decades.”

This humble family beachside shack in the astonishing hamlet of Randalls Bay in Tasmania captured a piece of my heart when I stayed there in late January 2025.

I booked it because it was well-priced and had some incredible water views. After check-in and a brief nap, I spent the afternoon watching the sunlight creep across the floor, tables and chairs. Lowering itself behind the trees, until it finally disappeared below the hills on the other side of the bay.

It felt as if the owners had just temporarily stepped out... the insect repellent and sunglasses tossed on a shelf, some sunscreen on the windowsill, and the dog lead on a hook. The dog was nowhere to be seen sadly.

In the mid-century cabinet, I found a visitor’s journal documenting their family weekends and Easters spent at the shack long before the property was let out to strangers. Their notes reminiscent of simple days spent with each days, doing not much worth mentioning, apart from the odd job. Which sounds utterly perfect to me.

This little shack felt lived in, in the most genuine way. A moment in time preserved.

A feeling that is certainly hard to create.

A little link to the airbnb