Five perfect strangers

“I have officially transcended. Not even a controversy in the school mums’ Messenger Chat can phase me here,” I wrote to a friend during my stay at Wander.

Invited as part of a group of female journalists, I was looking forward to three days with no parental responsibilities, very occasional checking of work emails and as long as possible in the outdoor bath. 

In the heart of Queensland’s Scenic Rim, five off-grid Wander pods are so deeply nestled amongst the 1200 acres of eucalypt forest it’s hard to spot them from afar. Forget beachfront Milos, this is Mununjali and Wiradjuri Country, a pure Australian bush-paradise. 

I’ll admit it, I was a little anxious around how I’d connect with my five fellow travellers. What if they all knew each other? What should I wear? My introverted self, already thinking of excuses to slip away for some solo time.

Enter Yoga Nidra.

Before I had time to memorise everyone’s names, we lay down for ‘Yoga Nidra’ led by local yogi, Jo Davies. In an impossibly idyllic setting —under a Morton Bay Fig as the last of the sun dipped behind the mountains— the Mindfulness App on my Apple watch was about to be well and truly usurped by this ancient traditional practice.

Over the next 60 minutes, Jo guided us into a state of rest so deep I am sure I heard gentle snoring. As her words flowed over us and the ‘vibrant sensation’ of our fingertips were activated she taught us to sit comfortably with both the light and shade in our lives. Something I have drawn on, almost daily, since. 

By the time our eyes reopened, we were connected to each other. Despite being relative strangers a few hours before, we were open to whatever was next.

As daylight faded, we gathered for a meal.

The pure joy of seeing stars and being outside after dark was an experience in itself. The conversation flowed over dinner, wine from the Overflow Estate 1895 and a campfire so perfect it looked like a stock image. 

We skipped the small talk and leapt straight into discussions on love, family, chance encounters, forgiveness, death bed confessions, the best way to capture stars on an iPhone and the importance of female solidarity. 

“We judge ourselves so harshly, one of my goals in life is to never make another woman feel that way,” one of my fellow-travellers told the group. 

Despite the initial unfamiliarity, we had discovered a safe space where we could be ourselves without fear of judgement. It’s a gift only strangers-turned-friends could offer. As the night progressed, I found myself energised by the connection with these incredible women, completely forgetting any thoughts of slipping away into solitude.

At home, the sun sets way off in the distance somewhere, but at Wander it sets just for you.

Wander is the brainchild of CEO and co-founder, Cassandra Sasso, who is well on her way to realising her dream of 100 off-grid pods across Australia. Each structure has the same design, providing familiarity and comfort no matter the destination. Cassandra consults with traditional owners and local providers to co-design transformative experiences around each site.

At the evening’s end, I ventured back to my pod taking Cassandra’s earlier advice to “keep your blinds open and wake up with the rhythm of the sun”.

I woke with glimpses of light on the horizon. A new day, a new experience waiting.

Time to take a walk. 

Led by our guide Lisa Groom, a third-generation Scenic Rim descendant, we embarked on a 2.5-hour hike up Mount Cordeaux. Passing waterfalls and through tropical rainforests, cloaked in early-morning fog and embraced by a peaceful silence. The antithesis of the night before, letting it all soak in. 

“I get a very strong feminine energy from this mountain, with the gentle incline of the path and the soft ground underfoot,” Lisa remarked. 

Her words made me think about the energies of all other peaks I have ever climbed while inexplicably agreeing with her. 

As we walked Lisa told us her passion for encouraging women to embrace hiking in groups, for both safety and companionship. She pointed out wild ginger and giant lilies, and we were graced with a rare glimpse of a lyre bird. Our silence turned into gleeful laughter after discovering another member of the group was really into birds. Deeming it ‘Twitcher’s Luck’ that we were able to spot one. 

The fog never lifted but it didn’t matter. Reaching the peak, we shared bush tea and ginger cookies, immersing ourselves in the misty surroundings. 

Another meal, another idyllic location.

At the Overflow Estate 1895, we were treated to an all-French menu crafted by talented and passionate chef, Oliver Boudon.

During our leisurely lunch, David Morgan, the owner of Wander’s land and winery, enthusiastically shared more insights into Cassandra’s venture. He spoke with a passion that mirrored Cassandra’s, though he extended past her humble nature. 

He shed light on the immense effort required to establish the pods amidst the challenges of a pandemic. His genuine admiration and pride for Cassandra’s achievements showcasing the bond between them and their shared dedication.

On the banks of Wyaralong Dam.

Two Mununjali and Wiradjuri women —artist Kim Walmsley and her Auntie Levina Page— invited us to wash ourselves in the haze from a traditional smoking ceremony. 

Sandalwood and eucalypt filled the air, as Auntie Levina spoke of her connection to Country and of the artefacts in caves that lay beneath the dam’s waters that were sadly lost when it was filled.

While she spoke, an outrageous amount of birds kept showing up: a magpie, several minors and two curious currawong. Back home, I live with the constant sound of rainbow lorikeets and black cockatoos in my front yard but even for me this was a lot of birdlife. 

“Ah, that’s my fault. They follow me around,” Kim laughed. “When I come back to Country, I open my window and yell out ‘jingeri, I’m home, my people’ to the willy wagtails that line the roadside.” 

As we went around the yarning circle, crying and laughing as our bare feet felt the grass, we made copper dragonflies to remind us the importance of taking time for ourselves and carrying a piece of Wander home with us. 

Stories flowed effortlessly and vulnerability was shared without judgement. Our yarning circle became a tapestry of resilience co-existing with fragility and trauma co-existing with happiness, conversations from the fire two nights before reignited.

Kim urged us to seek connections and meaning in the world around us. Sharing her own tales of the most unbelievable of coincidences: from finding her biological family decades later —one suburb over— to the presence of dragonflies in important stages of her life. 

“You’re almost there,” she said to me as I left. “you’ll find your way.”

At home, the sun sets way off in the distance somewhere, but at Wander it sets just for you. 

Back at my pod, I took a moment to check emails, make a quick call to my family and light a fire. I felt a sense of accomplishment as the flames crackled to life and stayed lit, my off-grid era in full swing. 

Well-appointed would be an understatement when it comes to the Wander pods. Linen sheets so good I googled the brand, compostable coffee pods on demand, local produce that tastes like your grandma grew it in her garden. But that late-afternoon outdoor bath was everything.

A truly wonderful holiday is not just an escape but an opportunity to be changed.

In the company of perfect strangers, I found myself: the clarity and the fog, the light and the shade.

As I neared home, willy wagtails lined the side of the road. 

“Thanks for sending me the willy wagtails,” I wrote to Kim.

“That’s what they are there for,” she replied, “To keep you moving in the right direction.”

IMAGES: PATTI ANDREWS