‘You’re an idiot’, scorned the umbrella. ‘Twice — twice you’ve done this!’ it squawked. I stood still, watching rain spiral through my curly hair while taking sadistic comfort from the sky’s cold grip on my shoulders. Continue reading ‘This Small and Lonely Planet’
Some stories just shouldn’t be told. Perhaps this is one. You be the judge. It was in Western Australia; 180km south of Perth, in June 2009. My girlfriend, Reb and I were jerking along beaded speed limits, which lament the type of housing estates where everyone drives the same car, and everything else is just-so. Continue reading ‘The Blue Noose’
All rise for the national anthem of the Principality of Hutt River It’s a hard land but it’s our land. Built with love and dedication. Self-assurance is our small nation. One man’s dream of independence. God bless the Prince of The Hutt River Province. God bless the man whose dream has come true. God bless this land where dreams can come true. God bless the Prince of the Hutt River Province. God bless this man whose dream has come true. God bless this land where dreams can come true. Continue reading ‘Principality of Hutt River: A Lesson in Principles’
There’s something alluring about a place, when you can retell a journey and become excited merely by its name. Many of you know I’m currently hiding under the wing of a Kiwi. However, not so long ago I was on a hunk of the neighbouring island continent, Australia, where I drew a route along the towns of the Ningaloo reef to the delightfully named, Quobba. Continue reading ‘Journey Along Ningaloo Reef’

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
The Ocean’s Roaming Gypsies
Thirteen years ago, I was stood on the deck of a boat in an Egyptian bay. I was fourteen years old, sopping wet from scuba diving and torn between the scourge of seasickness, and a seemingly endless feast spread upon a paper tablecloth. Then came a splash, followed by an endless split-second-silence. “Shark!” hollered one of the crew. Seconds later the surface of the Red Sea became stained with white froth. Everyone was gone. Continue reading ‘Swimming With Australia’s Whale Shark’
The beach was pale and despite being daubed with colourful swimwear, it was lacking and hollow. It was everything a beach should be; sparse and coated in sun like treacle smothers toast.
Reb and I reached a mutual agreement to leave, without the need for fall away words. We’d replaced a blown-out tyre, filled the food box, scrubbed and vacuumed the ute, filled the tank, and then just sat there. Stuck in treacle, watching skinny bums and rippled torsos while infant waves lolloped on the shore. Continue reading ‘A Stroll Along Australia’s West Coast’