Dark sweet liquid fizzles on my tongue and I recall brown crates on the back of noisy delivery trucks in quiet Brisbane streets. Hot summers, carefree days, and small hands clutching glasses filled with an ice-cold drink.

Dark sweet liquid fizzles on my tongue and I recall brown crates on the back of noisy delivery trucks in quiet Brisbane streets. Hot summers, carefree days, and small hands clutching glasses filled with an ice-cold drink.
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.
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.
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.
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This is a repost from an Instagram story I published in spring 2018 after a visit to Iran. With Iran […]
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