Tanja and I started our day in the charming little town of Stanley, with its quaint cottages, fishing boats, and that striking flat-topped volcanic plug rising above it all – The Nut. Instead of hiking the steep track up, we decided to take the chairlift, gliding quietly over green slopes with the ocean stretching out behind us. It felt like being suspended between sky and sea in a non-skiing ski chairlift. 

At the top, the views were instantly breathtaking. A cool breeze carried the scent of salt and eucalyptus as we set off on the loop walk. The track circled the plateau, offering lookout after lookout – one moment gazing over the Bass Strait’s endless blue, the next over farmland patchworked in shades of green and gold. Sea birds wheeled below the cliffs, and we spotted wallabies grazing in the grass, seemingly unbothered by the visitors. 

The walk wasn’t long, but we took our time, stopping often just to soak it all in. There was something grounding about being up there – the wild coastline stretching forever, the history of the town tucked below, and the sheer presence of The Nut itself.

By the time we rode the chairlift back down, Stanley looked even smaller, but also more magical – a perfect little town cradled by land, sea, and this ancient volcanic rock.