I started travelling alone at the age of 60. I and my little hatchback, thermos and Esky in the boot, began the first of four road trips around the island of Tasmania, south of where I live in Melbourne, Australia. I planned to the 'nth' degree, but nothing could prepare me for getting stuck on the side of a mountain in the dark with my petrol tank on empty. Nothing could prepare me for being on my own in a caravan park on the west coast in the middle of a violent storm, or forgetting I get sea-sick and spending a boat cruise around Tasman Island with my head in a bucket.
With my 'Tassie' experiences under my belt, I ventured overseas, across the Tasman Sea to New Zealand and, eventually, to the other side of the world - England. They say if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. He must have been rolling on the floor as I discovered that no matter how much research you do, at some stage you have to give up your set ideas and just wait to see what happens.
In the next couple of weeks, my book, Hangi, Haka and Hobbits: Notes from New Zealand, will have been with Amazon for three months. To celebrate this milestone, I’m having a free offer.
On my way to a matinee at the Melbourne Theatre Company, I hopped a tram up St. Kilda Road to the Shrine of Remembrance, to try out my new camera. The Shrine sits on a hill in the Royal Botanic Gardens.
The Shrine with the Eternal Flame in the Forecourt
A couple of weeks ago, I took off with my four adult children to Noosa, on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, for my nephew’s wedding. The week before, Australia’s east coast had been hit with violent storms, causing damage all the way down to Tasmania. We were worried. It was to be an outdoor wedding, in a gorgeous spot called Hidden Grove, a swathe of lawn surrounded by trees and shrubs at the edge of the beach.
After my serious dose of nature in Sherbrooke Forest, and my communing with my first-ever lyre bird, I headed up the Tourist Road to Mt. Dandenong and the William Ricketts Sanctuary.
Entrance to the Sanctuary: God Love – pulsating in a rhythm that moves and sweeps through all life. To understand your highest self you must live in that rhythm.
Tourist information stresses filling the petrol tank before leaving. There are no service stations between Te Anau and Milford Sound and I know from this that I’m heading into serious wilderness. It’s a little daunting but I’m almost fearless, intrepid traveller that I’m becoming.
This week I’m launching the second Ebook in my Planning to the ‘Nth’ series. Hangi, Haka and Hobbits: Notes from New Zealand, describes my adventures and discoveries while road tripping around New Zealand, just three hours across the Tasman Sea from Australia’s east coast.
B01F23ETLK
To launch the book, I’m offering it free for three days. The offer begins on Saturday 14th May and ends at midnight on Monday 16th. For a free copy of Hangi, Haka and Hobbits: Notes from New Zealand on those days, click here.
Just 30 kilometres out of Melbourne’s city centre are the Dandenong Ranges. The Dandenongs are a set of low mountains, their valleys and hills covered in thick, temperate rain forest. Scattered throughout are walking tracks, magnificent gardens and pretty villages, with names such as Ferny Creek, Gembrook, Sherbrooke, Sassafras and The Patch.
The Melbourne Comedy Festival runs from 23rd March till 17th April. It was launched in 1987 by Barry Humphries, Peter Cook and John Pinder, and so is now celebrating its 30th year. Comedians come from Britain, Canada, America, New Zealand and, of course, from all over Australia.
The trouble with writing about travel is that you tend to concentrate on places elsewhere, rather than on your own. And so, I’ve decided to become a tourist in my own town.
The morning after my visit to Skipton, I was having breakfast at Rosebud Cottage, my B&B in Haworth, when my host asked, ‘Have you heard of Wycoller Beck?’ I hadn’t. ‘Wycoller is the village and Beck is the river that runs through it. It’s a beautiful spot and has a Bronte connection, if you’re still looking for those.’ I was. ‘Turn right out of the driveway, then, and just follow the road. You can’t take your car into the village, though. You have to park and walk down the hill.’