One of my favourite things about travelling is discovering good food. Whether it’s finding a new variety of apples at a roadside stand or learning a new way to cook asparagus, I consider any trip a huge success if I return home more inspired than I left.

I found a lot of inspiration exploring Tasmania. If ever there was a haven for food-lovers, Tasmania fits the bill. From the tiniest middle-of-nowhere town with succulent scallop pies made with buttery handmade pie crust, to a posh restaurant in an old church that made exquisite pasta with a sauce that stunned in its simplicity, Tasmania dazzled and delighted me.

On our last morning in Launceston, we decided to get up early and go out for breakfast at Bryher, a cafe renowned for “trying very hard to only use Tasmanian products.”

Even though it was Autumn, and downright nippy, we opted to eat outside so we could watch people and wrap up in the brilliantly coloured wool blankets provided.

I loved everything about Bryher. Its warm, cozy interior with creaky wood floors and big windows, the seasonality of its produce that draws from backyard gardeners and local farmers alike, and its dazzling assortment of handmade items from pickles, cordials, and teas to yoghurt, pastries, and chutneys.

We warmed our numb fingers around steaming cups of coffee while we perused the menu that alters with the seasons.

I opted for the Croque Monsieur with smoked ham, Raclette cheese sauce, and mustard. It was, hands down, the best toasted sandwich of my life thus far. Served on freshly baked sourdough with a dollop of handmade chutney, it was comfort on a plate. Just the thing to warm my bones and fortify me for adventures ahead.

Shirley’s dish was equally marvelous, with roasted cauliflower, leek thinnings, prunes, pangrattato, radicchio, and a luscious chicken butter sauce.

I love how the simplest of foods can be transformed into something glorious with a special sauce, a buttery crumble, and the freshest of ingredients.

We bid farewell to Launceston with great bonhomie, and promised each other that we would return one day, if only to eat our way through the city.

We drove southeast through rolling hills and over thickly-forested mountains, making a beeline for the coast.

We had no clue where to go, so we just pulled off the highway and took one side road after another, as long as it was going east, and finally found a little drive that dead ended at these sand dunes.

We clambered out, stretched our cramped limbs, kicked off our shoes, and headed up into the dunes.

The trail wended through sea grasses and bushes, leading us closer and closer to the beach.

As I crested the dunes and caught my first glimpse of the ocean, my breath caught in my throat and it was all I could do not to cry at the wonder of it all.

I can’t wait to show you more of this wildly beautiful place.