Today, along with my role at Central Grampians LLEN, I am the proud owner-builder and operator of ‘Nook On The Hill’, a handcrafted, sustainable tiny house that serves as a luxurious sanctuary for guests seeking a slow escape from a fast world. The road to creating this business was forged through thousands of hours of intense physical labour, profound personal challenges and a deep desire to build something meaningful. It is a project that transformed not just a plot of land, but my entire professional and personal life.
It all started with a sliding doors moment in 2013 while I was working at an advertising agency in South Melbourne. Sitting at my desk overlooking the CBD, I suddenly realised the career path I’d chosen had become a roadblock to achieving my life goals. I had big dreams to travel the world and build a house before I turned 30, but I wasn’t earning enough money to make them a reality. It was time for a change. Within a matter of months, I traded my corporate job for high-vis and spent two and a half years working Fly-In Fly-Out (FIFO) in electrical construction. It was a decision that allowed me the financial freedom to spend 19 months travelling Asia, Europe and North America.
Eventually, I landed in the UK, where I lived in a thatched ‘Hobbit house’. It was here, surrounded by the charming architecture of English country cottages, that the vision for my future home began to take shape. Each morning, I would sit with my tea, watch design shows and sketch out concepts. I started emailing my dad the latest ideas, using CAD software to bring my visions to life. Initially, my designs were constrained to small structures due to strict budget limitations, but my perspective shifted entirely when I discovered the YouTube channel Living Big In A Tiny House. Suddenly, I wasn’t just designing a compromised small space, I was embracing the boundless, creative opportunities that tiny house living presented.
Meanwhile, back in Australia, my mum had subdivided a two-acre block of land in Pomonal, a remnant of the family property I had roamed as a teenager. The inspiration drawn from my travels and the option to purchase this block of land from mum felt like the stars were aligning. I decided to pull the trigger and at the end of 2017, I returned to Australia, armed with a laptop containing a crude 3D model of what would eventually become the Nook.
Transitioning from a digital dream to a physical reality wasn’t easy. I spent six months immersed in permit applications, engineering signoffs, bushfire management statements and energy efficiency compliance reports. I also had to figure out how to fund the actual construction. Coincidentally, an opportunity arose to work on the Halls Gap Parks Victoria fire crew. I applied and, after a prolonged process, secured a seasonal role. This job not only financed the next stage of the project but also allowed me to work in the very national park that served as the backdrop for the future house and eventual business.
The design of the Nook was intentional and highly purposeful. Measuring just four by six metres with a height of six and a half meters, the goal was to minimise the overall footprint on the land by building up rather than out. I wanted to create a sustainable sanctuary that blended seamlessly with the Gariwerd landscape, taking inspiration from both the chocolate-box cottages of the UK and classic Australian elements like corrugated Colorbond steel and red bricks.
Building the Nook was not a solo endeavour; it was a testament to the power of community. Over 5,000 hours of my own labour went into crafting the house, with more than half of the structure made from repurposed and recycled materials. Every piece of timber and brick carries a past life, including 130-year-old bricks from a bakery that burnt down in Murtoa, blackbutt beams from an old bridge in Northern NSW and ironbark from a family friend’s former pig farm.
Throughout this process, I relied heavily on the expertise and generosity of friends and family. My mate Matti, a surveyor, helped map the block. Another friend, Newta, flew down from Brisbane over a weekend to help clad the walls and roof. I learned a crucial career lesson during this phase: never be afraid to ask for help, draw on the experience of those you trust and embrace the collaborative nature of a large-scale project.
The most defining chapter occurred during the final stages of the build. I call it ‘the perfect storm’. On Christmas Eve of 2019, my family received devastating news. My dad had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. This tragedy collided head-on with the outbreak of the global COVID-19 pandemic and the impending threat of the next fire season.
Due to the strict pandemic lockdowns, travelling the four hours to care for my dad, who was based in Rosebud, became incredibly difficult. Separated by distance and circumstance, I made a solemn promise to myself. I would document every single step of the build on Instagram, providing a daily update so that my dad could follow the journey from isolation in his home. Every morning, my 80-year-old dad would open his laptop, type “Nook On The Hill Instagram” into Google and watch our shared dream taking shape.
Driven by an overwhelming desire to finish the house so my dad could see it completed, I pushed myself to absolute breaking point. For 167 out of 181 days, I woke at 5.30am and worked 12-to-15-hour shifts. I was operating on autopilot, fuelled by the smell of an oily rag. During this time, the unwavering support of my partner at the time, Holly, was my anchor. Her endless pep talks, thousands of cups of tea and boundless compassion dragged me out of some significant emotional holes. The Nook had evolved from a simple building project into a vital coping mechanism. It became a space for healing and a symbol of profound resilience.
Finally, the hard work culminated in success. I received the occupancy permit for the Nook, so Dad, Holly, a small group of close friends and I gathered at the property. We cut a red ribbon and officially opened the house together. Sharing that monumental milestone with my dad before he passed away in June 2021 is a memory I will cherish forever.
With the construction complete, my career path shifted once again, this time from owner-builder to eco-tourism entrepreneur. I officially opened Nook On The Hill to the public in 2023. My vision was to create a beacon of sustainable luxury, a place where couples could disconnect from the fast-paced world and reconnect with nature. It had taken years to rewild the property, planting over 750 native plants to create a thriving habitat for local wildlife, including blue-banded bees, honey eaters, lizards and sugar gliders.
The Nook has been featured in national publications like The Age and Good Weekend, and yes, we even had the surreal experience of hosting the team from Living Big In A Tiny House, the very channel that inspired the build years prior. Recently, we took out Gold for Self-Contained Accommodation at the national Qantas Australian Tourism Awards in Fremantle, Western Australia. This was incredible recognition of all the hard work that I have put in with my friends, family and community to make this little house on the hill as special as it is.
The Nook On The Hill is much more than a business. It is a deeply personal legacy and a testament to the power of community. It proves that a successful career doesn’t have to be defined by a corporate ladder. A career can be handcrafted from 130-year-old bricks and salvaged floorboards. It can be built on the values of connection, resilience and sustainability. For anyone wondering if they should take a leap into a completely different field, my journey with the Nook is proof that the most rewarding paths are often the ones we build with our own two hands.
See you at the little house on the hill.
Cheers,
