We woke up in Robe, South Australia, to a sky wrapped in soft, grey clouds. The morning was overcast, the kind that makes the sea look moodier and the streets quieter, as if the town itself was still waking up. After a simple breakfast and the usual routine of packing the car, we said goodbye to our modern Robe Airbnb and set out in search of coffee — and for me, of course, a wet chai.

And that’s when we stumbled upon an absolute gem. Not on the main shopping street where you’d expect to find it, but tucked away up the road from our Airbnb, on Flint Street. The kind of place you could easily miss unless someone whispered its name to you. It was called Robe Store, its exterior already brimming with charm — but the moment I stepped inside, it was as though the lid of a treasure chest had been lifted.

Half café, half gift shop, it was filled with little delights at every turn.

It was the sort of shop where every glance revealed another surprise.

One moment it was something to admire.

The next, it was something that made me laugh.

And just when I thought I’d seen it all, I’d spot something I suddenly realised I needed.

I loved how it invited you to slow down, wander, and let curiosity take over.

One in particular seemed to be waiting just for me: a sweet little cupcake girl.

She was calling my name, and I couldn’t resist bringing her home.

The chai was just as wonderful as the surroundings.

It was served perfectly — extra hot, fragrant, and comforting.

The café itself had such a stylish, welcoming atmosphere that I wanted to linger for hours.

If I could have, I would have happily spent the whole day there, browsing and sipping, soaking in the calm rhythm of this tucked-away corner of Robe.

It was time to leave the beautiful seaside town of Robe behind, with its history woven gracefully into modern life. The sandstone cottages and weathered landmarks spoke of days long past, while the stylish cafés, boutiques, and seaside homes hinted at a town that still knows how to reinvent itself.

Leaving Robe, we set our course northward, the road stretching out ahead with the promise of new horizons. The sea slowly slipped from view, giving way to open farmland where sheep grazed lazily and paddocks rolled out in endless shades of green and gold.

Along the way, we spotted one young sheep that had slipped through the fence, running back and forth in distress as it tried to find its way home. My heart ached watching it, and we decided to drive on to the nearest farmhouse to let the farmer know. They thanked us and promised to take care of the poor little wanderer, and with that reassurance we continued on our way.

We had not driven far when the road offered us another surprise. An echidna appeared, shuffling purposefully across the road. I stopped the car, got out, and quietly followed as it waddled its way to safety on the other side of the road. It felt like such a privilege to watch this little creature up close, moving entirely at its own pace.

And just when I thought the moment couldn’t be topped, another echidna appeared further along the road, as if to remind us we were travelling through their world.

Wineries dotted the roadside here and there, until we found ourselves passing through Cape Jaffa.

There was a comforting simplicity to it all, the kind of scenery that reminds you how vast and varied South Australia can be.

We then arrived at Kingston S.E. What a pleasant surprise this little town was to us.

With its streets lined with white cherry blossoms as well as the prettiest old buildings, it was like a postcard come to life.

We fell in love with Kingston S.E.’s post office.

It must be the prettiest post office in Australia.

At least, I can’t imagine a prettier one.

Of course, Kingston S.E. also carries a traumatic history. The Maria shipwreck of 1840 led to the infamous Maria massacre, one of the darkest events in South Australia’s maritime story. Yet, alongside that somber past, the town shines with a bright and cheerful identity.

The streets burst into bloom with white cherry blossoms.

Locals strolled at an easy pace, enjoying the relaxed rhythm of the town.

The heritage buildings stood proudly cared for, as if to remind visitors that Kingston is more than its history. To us, it felt like a place where beauty, resilience, and everyday joy live side by side.

Not long after leaving Kingston S.E., the road offered us yet another unexpected delight. In all my 47 years of living in Australia, I had never seen an emu in the wild. I’ve seen plenty in sanctuaries and wildlife parks, but never just out there, roaming free. And yet here we were — face to face with not one, but three.

A mother emu strode gracefully through the field, two tiny chicks trotting close behind her. She kept glancing in our direction, as if to say, “Keep your distance, these little ones are mine.” The sight stopped us in our tracks. We pulled over, letting the moment linger, and simply watched as they moved beside us.

Funnily enough, someone earlier in our journey had told us to keep an eye out for kangaroos and emus along this stretch of road. I had quietly doubted the emu part — but now I stood corrected, smiling at the magic of three wild emus appearing as if just for us.

The last hundred kilometres passed quietly, with no koalas crossing our path or any other roadside surprises. A light rain began to fall, softening the colours of the landscape as we drew closer to Lake Albert and into the township of Meningie.

What a welcome we received. As we pulled up to our Airbnb by the lake, pelicans gathered along the shoreline as if greeting us personally.

Our accommodation turned out to be a beautifully restored 1890s cottage, filled with charm and history, perched right on the edge of the water.

From the front veranda, wide views opened across the lake, and inside we found ourselves cocooned in comfort.

The living room has a cosy wood-look gas fireplace.

The dining table had been set with thoughtful touches — fresh flowers, a bowl of fruit, a handful of lollies, and even a jar filled with homemade biscuits.

The bedrooms are also beautifully furnished.

The scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the air the moment we stepped inside, and a country-style breakfast hamper waited for us, full of generous provisions. It was the kind of welcome that makes you feel instantly at home.

On one of the mantelpieces, we noticed an old black-and-white photo: a family — mother, father, and what looked like nine children — standing proudly in front of the very same cottage in 1890. Looking at their faces, we could almost imagine their laughter and daily life in these rooms, a reminder that this house has been loved and lived in for generations.

As evening settled in, the rain began to fall more steadily, tapping softly against the cottage windows and rippling across the surface of the lake. We had the fire on, its warm glow filling the rooms as we sank into a sense of stillness.

Outside, pelicans huddled along the shoreline, their white feathers a contrast against the grey sky, while inside we felt cocooned in comfort and history.

While paging through the Airbnb manual by the fire, I stumbled across something that made this place feel even more extraordinary. The man whose face is on our $50 note — David Unaipon — was born right here, across Lake Albert at the Point McLeay Mission in 1872.

He was the fourth of nine children, the son of James, an evangelist and the mission’s first Aboriginal convert, and his wife Nymbulda, both Yeraldi speakers from the lower Murray River region.

David Unaipon grew to become a preacher, author, and inventor, a man of deep faith and remarkable vision. His life spanned 95 years, and in 1953 he received the Coronation Medal in recognition of his achievements. To sit here, looking across the very waters where his story began, gave the evening an unexpected depth — a reminder that history is never far away, even on the quietest, rain-filled night in a lakeside cottage.

Here’s a little glimpse of the path our day took…