I left Tasmania and my darling Seth Todd, and flew for 24 stinking hours on a succession of Jetstar flights. Let it be known, Jetstar are low in cost but high in tedium; for hours unending I had nought to do but stare at the barren headrest before me. My requests for a free little glass of water were repeatedly declined, and in the end I had no choice but to splash out and numb myself with a little plastic wine bottle. Continue reading
backpacking
Tasmania: Howling at the Thunder
And just like that, Tasmania is finished. Five weeks of apple picking are done, and I have left. Spending tonight in a crappy hostel in Melbourne’s CBD, after flying out of Hobart earlier today. 24 hours and I’ll be with Jeanne once more, in Chiang Mai. Got a lot of airports to traverse in that span of time – it’ll be pretty shit. I’ll live. And then it’s all joy on joy. Continue reading
Tasmania: Danny Appleseed
I can hear kookaburras. God I’ve missed that sound. Continue reading
Melbourne: It All Relates
I always hesitate to publish articles like the last one, because of course when I write them I am feeling emotional. I’ve learned a few things during my time on earth, and one of the earliest lessons I taught myself was not to speak in anger – I still do it of course, and more often than I’d like, but I try my best to avoid it. I remember as a kid in primary school having arguments with family and friends, and feeling rotten afterwards as the anger subsides and the empathy creeps in and guilt shades everything. I feel guilty about telling Australia to fuck off, is what I’m trying to say. Sorry Australia. You have your flaws, but so does everywhere, everyone, and everything. Continue reading
Melbourne: Goon and Graft
Through my travels in India, Nepal, Japan, Thailand and Australia, I’ve had a year of summer now. A year. You imagine it to be great, don’t you. Twelve whole months of sunshine and blue skies and warm weather. The never-ending summer: paradise. Continue reading
Melbourne: Mulan
I’ve started and deleted around a dozen articles since I published the last one. I dunno, I keep starting them super serious and prattling on about my personal growth/decay (delete as appropriate depending on the time of day, when I last got laid, and how many bottles of wine I’ve had). But I don’t really think anyone is too arsed about the inner workings of my burned-out mind. So instead I’ll just skip the self-reflecty mumbo jumbo and get to the point: here’s what’s happened recently! Continue reading
Melbourne: Catfish and Sealions
It’s been busy here in Melbourne, although I’m struggling to write this dairy at the moment as recently I’ve found myself worrying about what people might think of me, rather than writing anything honest or real. I don’t want to be dishonest, yet I fear to present an unsatisfying narrative – because as I have said before, contentedness doesn’t make for a particularly riveting read, and content I am. And so I generally compromise and write nothing. It’s a strange thing I find myself doing now, then: posting an article into a very public sphere, with an introductory caveat explaining how very shy I feel. An odd dichotomy indeed, but there it is. Olé! Continue reading
Melbourne: I Ruined Christmas
Christmas struck Melbourne last week, much as it struck the rest of the world. Of course, it went tits up. Continue reading
Melbourne: The Secret Wardrobe Piss
Good DAY to you sir,
I say, it is quite the downpour outside. It is positively tropical, and it is certainly very noisy as I sit here alone a-typing in northern Melbourneo, because I live in a converted warehouse, and the roof is made of tin or some other noisy metal; may the lord protect us if it hails. My bedroom is steadily flooding from some unseen leak as I type this and I do not know what to do so I have evacuated to the kitchen table, which has a marvellous view of the Queen Victoria Market and the skyscrapers of the Central Business District. I ate a bacon, egg and sausage sandwich for breakfast. I have not been drunk or had a cigarette in two days. I am doing tremendously, old chap. Continue reading
Melbourne: Just… Just Going Absolutely Mental, Really
Right I’ve had me morning coffee and I intended to start writing this immediately after – because when I’m all mad post-caffeine tends to be when I write the best – but I got distracted going through old photos for about an hour and the rush is wearing off, so you will have to forgive me if every single word henceforth is fucking crap. Continue reading