Puerto Natales is a pretty little town, nestled between the Argentinian border and the cold dark waters of the Patagonian Fjords. It has a population of around 20,000 and you can count on one hand the number of towns that are closer to the South Pole. Winters in Patagonia are long and harsh.
Wrestling goannas at Walkabout Creek
Despite growing up in ‘Brissie’ and spending many years hiking, climbing and bush bashing close to home, my home town […]
Nowruz – نوروز
Last Saturday was Nowruz. It means “new day” in Persian and is celebrated at the northern spring equinox – March 21. It dates back over 3000 years, with its roots in the Zoroastrian faith – possibly the world’s oldest religion. And it’s a wonderful time to be in Iran.
City in the Clouds – a year on
As I look back on images of La Paz, Uyuni and Bolivia from 12 months ago, I am so grateful I got the chance to explore a new continent, several new countries, and see a bit more of this big beautiful world. Just before it all went to shit.
One lap at a time
The water is crystal blue. Clear. I can see black lines and the Ts contorted beneath shallow waters. A few random leaves have snuck in from nearby trees. I’m sitting on the end of the pool, sweating from the midday heat. My shoulders ache. They’re not used to this. My neck is stiff. But the pool looks cool and inviting. It calls me. Dares me. “What have you got in you today?” I’m tired. But all I need is to get one lap done. Then another. And another.
Sunday the 21st February is my sister’s birthday. This is for her.
Anywhere was Samsun (Samsun, Turkey, 1985)
Samsun was a medium sized town on the Black Sea coast. Drawing local tourists for summer. It was a conservative town. A bit shabby. It was plan B.
Hilton – a different kind of model
Quietly, in halting English (his second language), he told us about his clan who are blue-tongue lizard dreaming. They can hunt wallaby, barramundi, crocs and turtle but not blue tongue lizards – their sacred totem. Hilton Garnarradj showed us the land of the Manilakarr Clan, his mother’s country.
A walk through the Red Centre
The Larapinta Trail was an unexpected delight. The only expectation I did have was that it would be a challenge, and it was. But looking back over the last 6 months, it was definitely THE highlight of my trip.
Walking on sand – Cooloola Great Walk
As I lift the flap to my tent, I can hear the surf a few KMs away down across the […]
Back to Moogerah Peaks NP.
Hiking, Bruce the Farmer, and a goat named Ian. This week’s walk was a return to Lake Moogerah where our […]
Moist and tasty Lamington – the Hiker’s recipe
O’Reilly’s, Lamington National Park, Queensland “Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are […]
Two wheels, a few horses and déjà vu
The Little Shop of Bikes, Stones Corner, Brisbane It was just before Easter when I pulled up outside the bike […]
Mangroves, mudflats and minion management #2
Cabin fever is in the air. But 30 min east by car lies salvation. The tranquil waters of Moreton Bay lap the mangrove forests and the muddy beaches of Redland Bay, one of Brisbane’s outer suburbs.
Lessons in Crisis Management
Mt Gravatt, Brisbane, Australia 🇦🇺 The sky is blue. It’s warm, almost hot. It’s a school day. But the kids […]
Surviving the lock-down in Brisbane
Monday 24 March – Brisbane, Australia With all states having shut their borders, non-essential services are rapidly being closed across […]
Going to hell in a handcart full of loo roll
Brisbane, Australia With the news being coughed out hourly with updates about the latest countries to close their borders, the […]
Dicing with the Death Road in Bolivia
Yungas Valley, La Paz, Bolivia 🇧🇴 The North Yungas Road was built in the 1930s by POWs from Paraguay to […]
“Tell your friends we are not terrorists.”
This is a repost from an Instagram story I published in spring 2018 after a visit to Iran. With Iran […]
Beaver dams, glaciation and struggles with Spanish
Laguna Esmeralda, Tierra del Fuego Returning from the National Park on Saturday and keen to get in another outdoor activity […]
Escaping a Kingdom (Amman, Jordan, 1985)
The agent showed me the two cheapest flights to Bangkok. The first was Romanian Airlines, who’s country was still behind the Iron Curtain and communist airlines didn’t fill me with confidence. The second was Royal Jordanian, the more reputable, more reliable and clearly the safest option. Both involved transit through the main airports of their respective capital cities: Bucharest and Amman. I laid down my £20 deposit and said to the agent: “I’ll take Romanian Airlines please”.