Unyoked - Farah

UNYOKED - FARAH

As previously noted, the mission is to tick off as many Unyoked cabins as I can. Farah marks cabin number three - and this one felt a little different.

For starters, Farah is classed as a mild cabin. That means a shorter walk from car to cabin, and slightly less off-grid living. The walk-in is intentional, of course - designed to shake off stress and gently separate you from modern life. The brief for this stay? Touch Grass.

Getting Unyoked is quietly becoming a quarterly ritual. A circuit breaker. A chance to drop inward, slow the nervous system, and have the big conversations without distractions that so easily pull us out of focus. You know, questions like “would you still love me if I was a worm?” or debating the difference between ‘mostly sunny’ and ‘partly cloudy’.

We set off on a Friday arvo armed with an irresponsible amount of cheese and wine and headed north toward the Hunter Valley, chasing a town called Pokolbin. We later discovered that Pokolbin is essentially the beating heart of the Hunter Valley wine region, stacked with wineries and dotted with dairies (Binnorie Dairy is a standout). In hindsight, we didn’t need to bring any supplies - but over-cheesed has always felt safer than under-cheesed.

Farah shares its land with a handful of other cabins, plus the on-site hosts who run an Italian cooking school. You can book a pasta class, or even order an antipasto picnic box to enjoy back at the cabin - which feels wildly civilised for something marketed as off-grid.

Truthfully, I prefer my escapes a little more disconnected than Farah. Access to the outside world is far too tempting in the age of phone addiction. That said, I am as stubborn as they come and have a deep love for airplane mode so that’s what held me to account.

Despite a long-standing love affair with Sarah Glover’s ricotta shells, it felt like time to branch out with cooking over fire. Channelling my inner Gourmeg (highly recommend her TikTok channel), dinner was steak and broccolini, finished with goat cheese and a generous glass of red. Everything tastes better over fire.

S’mores were non-negotiable. A cheeky bottle of Pepperjack didn’t last long. Years ago, Liam and I tried jalapeño rosé at a wine studio in London and decided this trip was the moment to recreate it. Verdict: dangerously drinkable.

Farah feels like a gateway cabin. You touch grass. You experience peace and quiet. But you’re still very much tethered to society. A gentle introduction to off-grid living - close enough to civilisation, far enough away to remember how good it feels to slow down.

Stray beautiful,

BEAR.