- Bob Prudhoe, aka ‘Boinga Bob’, 85, built a treehouse in Warburton, Vic years ago
- It has three storeys and boasts a Tibetan style
- Despite now being in his eighties, Boinga Bob still loves living in his treehouse
Here he shares his story in his own words.
Waking up to the sound of birds singing in the trees, I made myself a morning coffee.
‘Hello my little mates,’ I smiled at the dozens of kookaburras and rainbow lorikeets perched on my kitchen bench.
I invite all sorts of gorgeous creatures into my home – but they usually find their own way in! That’s because I’m based five metres up in my very own treehouse in Warburton, Vic.
Growing up, I was a curious little boy with an imaginative mind.
‘Hands-on activities made me smile.’
As a teen, I loved woodwork classes and creating all sorts of sculptures and furniture.
Any activities that were hands-on made my smile stretch even wider.
After school I went on to study systems engineering at university, learning more about how to design and work out the logistics of all sorts of systems including electrical.
In love with our vast planet, I couldn’t wait to explore every country known to man. So in my 20s, I packed my bags and travelled around the UK and Europe, and later to Tibet and Nepal in my 30s.
I met all sorts of characters, and learned about the different cultures, and of course observed their architecture and design.
I especially loved Tibet’s beautiful religion of Buddhism, with its focus on ethical conduct, wisdom and compassion.
Having an abundance of experience under my belt and a brain buzzing with ideas, I was keen to create something spectacular, and true to my developing style and beliefs.
So after years of travel, when I was 35 in 1975, I built my very own Tibetan-style home in bushland in Warburton.
I nicknamed the quirky abode ‘Thangboche’, after a Tibetan monastery of the same name.
‘I mentally mapped out the house.’
Over the next 17 years, I added to the three-storey home, and allowed people of all walks of life to enter it and stay in spare bedrooms or on the couch.
‘My home is your home,’ I’d say welcoming friends and family, as well as strangers, with open arms.
Tragically, in 1992, when I was 52, my house burned down.
I was in Melbourne at the time, visiting a friend, when the disaster struck.
‘All that work,’ I teared up, gazing at the black soot where my house used to stand.
But I knew it couldn’t destroy my creative soul.
I spent the next 10 years on many adventures.
When I returned, I found a block of land across the road from where my home had stood.
Buying the block in 2008, I was so excited.
On it stood the old Warburton railway station master’s house, which had been uninhabited for a while – but I saw so much more potential.
Why don’t I build a treehouse? I thought, mentally mapping out how I’d tack on extra storeys to the humble abode.
Getting to work, I used recycled timber and plywood as the bones, and an aerodynamic design for the tower, so it would be very stable in high winds.
Following a Tibetan style once again, I painted the wood every colour of the rainbow and carved copious windows to let sunshine beam inside.
Every corner and crevice had an important detail. At the front door sat a giant dragonfly made mostly of plywood. And at the top of my palace I carved a pair of eyes – the windows to my home’s soul.
‘The views of Victorian bushland are out of this world.’
My plumbing works just as in any other house, and I heat my home with a wood fire in the lounge room on the first level, allowing heat to travel up.
With a few bedrooms, there’s enough room for guests. And the views of Victorian bushland are out of this world.
My mum, Myrtle, loved to visit me before she sadly passed away about 15 years ago, aged 92.
I’m dedicating the treehouse to you, I thought, missing her dearly as I worked on it.
Over the years, I’ve kept adding bits and pieces to my now three-storey treehouse.
It’s my never-ending piece of art.
The locals love it too. ‘You’re so creative,’ they often tell me.
Recently my mate Peter made a documentary about me and my house as well as other artists, called Stupa – The Inside Story of Ousider Art for the Melbourne Documentary Film Festival.
Sadly, following my first of two heart attacks about 10 years ago, I don’t have as much energy for building onto my home.
But cheating death opened my eyes to how incredible the human body really is.
‘I have no plans to move out of my treehouse.’
Now I channel my creative energy into artworks for friends, which are influenced by the body – such as heart-shaped sculptures.
While many people my age are thinking about winding down, I’m living my life to the absolute fullest.
Despite having had double hip surgery recently, I have no plans to move out of my treehouse.
I make sure to take my time getting up and down my treehouse, being super careful with every step.
It might be unconventional to most people, but I wouldn’t have my life any other way.
Plus I have wonderful help from some home carers who visit me once a week.
Living up so high, you can’t help but feel on top of the world.
