I once said that when I no longer had distractions, like work – fun though it had been – I would use my new-found time to keep up with my friends and to travel. Whenever we could travel, during the pandemic and then afterwards, I used to send back news from distant places. Then I realised that all life was travelling: travelling around your neighbourhood, travelling across your planet and travelling through your life – one form or another of travelling light.
May 26, 2025
Speaking in tongues
Where I live a statue of French maritime hero, La Pérouse, looks out over the suburb as though to say: this, too, could have been France. For a period it seemed everyone who went to school in Australia studied French. Perhaps it was a belated attempt to acknowledge how much better everything would have been if the French had got here first. As I like to say whenever I’m in France, ‘j’ai étudié le Français pendant six ans à l’école’ and I would like to have had more opportunity to use that knowledge.
Where I live a statue of La Pérouse looks out over the suburb as though to say ‘this, too, could have been France’.
Sometimes I wonder, what if the French had got here first. Unfortunately for La Pérouse, his two ships, La Boussole and L’Astrolabe, sailed through the Heads into Port Phillip Bay in January 1788, only days after the First Fleet arrived. To cap it off, he was then shipwrecked in the Solomon Islands on the way home and never seen again – at least by Europeans.
There seem to be little toeholds of France dotted around the place. In Russell on the North Island of New Zealand – once known as the hellhole of the Pacific – the Pompallier Mission (and printery) is still a remnant of the French. On the South Island, near Christchurch, tiny Akaroa is a French pied à terre far distant from the homeland of its early inhabitants.
The turquoise waters of Akaroa. During the Christchurch earthquakes, cruise ships somehow docked here after the link to the main port of Christchurch, Lyttleton, was blocked.
There are tiny reminders of France around Tasmania – my original island home before I moved to the island to the North – especially place names. French navigator, Bruni d’Entrecasteaux came searching for the missing La Perouse expedition. Observing Recherche Bay in January 1793, he was inspired to write ‘It will be difficult to describe my feelings at the sight of this solitary harbour situated at the extremities of the globe, so perfectly enclosed that one feels separated from the rest of the universe.’
None of these far-roaming French navigators ever made it back home – being a seafarer in that era was a dangerous business. Living in this suburb, with all its streets named after ships and mariners – or their unhappy, abandoned wives – I will think of them and what might have been. Whenever I visit France I will recite the added layer of names they added to Aboriginal land, country so far from their own homes.
Walking with ghosts ‘Increasingly people I have known for a long time seem to be dying. In fact my generation is steadily starting to disappear. Who is replacing them? We shuffle along in a world that is unravelling, a world – that for both good and bad – our generation gave birth to. We are teetering in a strange balance between building on the achievements of the past and desperately trying to dismantle them. In many countries, the current generation is poorer than the previous one, upending generations of dreams by working class parents and migrants for a better life for their children. In this time of upheaval – both welcome and unwelcome – creativity is needed like never before’, Walking with ghosts.
On the rails again – a trip about the past and the future I'm on the road again – well, on the rails again. On Monday I caught the slow train from Canberra to Sydney, and today I’ve woken up to a third morning in Surry Hills. I’m enjoying the days in Sydney – after all, I did live here for twelve and a half years. I’m mainly here to see the Yolngu Power exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW, which finishes next week, but I’m also using the trip to see to other business’, On the rails again – a trip about the past and the future.
Looking down on dire predictions ‘I see the latest report on looming climate change has some pretty dire predictions – like a future of four times the length of heatwaves, up to five times as many deaths due to extreme heat, a massive drag on productivity, 1.5 million Australians at risk of coastal flooding and a potential half trillion dollar hit to property values by 20250 – and that’s just the good news’, Looking down on dire predictions.
Marching with the Nazis – as un-Australian as it gets
'I’m still shocked by the marches and rallies around the country opposing immigration. Everyone involved says mass immigration, but it’s clear in practice they mean most immigration – and definitely all immigration by people who aren’t white, or as I like to say, ‘pink’. Here I am travelling through my own homeland once again and, at times, it seems like a foreign country – not because of immigrants but because of those who have grown up here. Those taking part in these marches probably have genuine grievances, but they have picked the wrong target to blame and, in the process, have been steered into becoming in effect neo-Nazi fellow travellers. We are (almost) all immigrants here, only just starting to genuinely come to grips with this country', Marching with the Nazis – as un-Australian as it gets.
Self-imposed lockdown
'For all their faults and disadvantages there were some positive sides to the pandemic lockdowns. As I often say, ‘good times’ – maybe my memory isn’t what it was. I realise that I planned and prepared for so long to move to an apartment and now I am here I keep discovering more and more things I like about it. I could stay home and read and write and never leave it, just popping down to the shops when I need supplies – perhaps it’s a case of self-imposed lockdown', Self-imposed lockdown.
Essen, trinken, tanzen – aber nicht rauchen ‘From time to time my posts on ‘travelling light’ include references to restaurants we have eaten at or enjoyable places we have stayed. However, most of my regular writing about food, produce, restaurants and places we have stayed is on one of my blogs, tableland, which I describe as: ‘Food and cooking land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko’, Essen, trinken, tanzen – aber nicht rauchen.
Cooking minestrone in an art gallery - pineapple fruit cake, hot soup and art on a cold day ‘In winter my mind turns to food, but since it is never turned away from art, cooking and looking manage to fill in the cooler months – or maybe that’s all months. I haven’t made hand-made pasta for a while but I have made sushi and sashimi – though only once in recent memory – as I resurrect all my food traditions. Cooking, eating and cruising around art exhibitions – that’s winter for me’, Cooking minestrone in an art gallery - pineapple fruit cake, hot soup and art on a cold day.
Winter markets in a creative city
'The winter we had to have (and could have hoped for) finally arrived on the Southern Tablelands. We have gone back to going to the Farmers Market every week. To add to the winter sun good news arrived. For over ten years we worked to have Canberra listed as a UNESCO Creative City of Design, part of a global network of creative cities. Finally the ACT Government announced that it intended to take the bid forward – and that it had allocated funding for it, the true sign of a government being serious. It’s always a pleasure to help initiate a worthwhile endeavour, but even more of a pleasure to look back ten years later and see that it has been a roaring success in more ways than one', Winter markets in a creative city.
Looking down on birds
'While the world unravels and some gleefully repeat the mistakes of the past, life goes on in gardens everywhere. I remember that in the Roman Empire, if a change of regime occurred, soldiers, recognising that they were also farmers, would often retire for a time to their farm - until circumstances and duty called them back. Some wit commented that what is happening now is like the fall of the Roman Empire, but with wi-fi', Looking down on birds.
Back in the days when we travelled
'Back in the days when we travelled, I used to post news of my trips to Facebook, so my friends could follow my exploits overseas. For a long time it has been apparent that Facebook has issues, so back in 2019 I set up this blog 'Travelling light' to replace my Facebook posts. However, in the end I decided to stay with Facebook, so this blog was never used', Back in the days when we travelled.
Travelling light by being still
'As I've said repeatedly, I don't have any problem with flying, it's landing and taking off I don't like – and all the logistics in-between. I have few problems with lounging around for hours and on a flight, you get to sit still while people bring you food and drink. How much better does it get?', Travelling light by being still.
Abandoning the world of work
'When I left full-time work over ten years ago, I was asked what I intended to do. Once I no longer had distractions, like work – fun though it was at the time – it was clear that I would definitely have some time on my hands. I replied that I planned to keep up with my friends and to travel – when I wasn't gardening, cooking, reading or writing. It sounded like a fine plan at the time and as things panned out, it WAS a fine plan', Abandoning the world of work.
