Meeting Sir David Attenborough...

Sir David Attenborough is my hero. His early television awakened in me a love of all things natural, but in particular my breath was stilled as I watched him hang out with the gorillas in Rwanda. It was 1979 and I was 12 years old. Nine years later, inspired by this remarkable film  I followed in his footsteps and visited the mountain gorillas of Africa in Rwanda's neighbouring Zaire.

Meeting Sir David Attenborough has been a longtime dream of mine, though I expect I would be incapable of intelligent speech and the conversation would be rather one sided! Thankfully it seems David Attenborough is never short of something of interest to say or a story to tell, so maybe my muted awe would go relatively unnoticed.

I saw Sir David twice when I lived in London. I lived in Richmond at the time and we shared the TW9 postcode, though I imagine he was 'further up the hill' than I. He was walking about town the first time I saw him,  strolling along, hands behind his back, quite happy in his own space and though I desperately wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to disturb him.

The next time I saw him, I was standing at the end of a long, slow moving queue waiting to buy a ticket at Richmond Underground Station. Unbeknown to me, he was quite near the front of the same queue, though close enough to hear me sigh and curse at the delay.

It was aimed at my late departure from home and the frustrations at my own tardiness (aided thereafter by the world that turned all it's efforts to making me miss my train) but I did not realise quite how loud my comment was, nor how well it travelled.

In the moment immediately after it came out, I was shot a look by Sir David that bought shame upon me and left me in no doubt that that particular day was not the time to introduce myself as one of his biggest fans. Nor the day to tell him how he inspired me, and certainly not the day to tell him how much I admired and tried to live my life guided (in part at least) by his example.

Quite a few years later (and surely long enough after our Underground incident for all to be forgiven and forgotten - I suspect it was a rather less memorable moment for him as it was for me afterall) he was scheduled to talk in Melbourne and I managed to get tickets. I was delighted. My hero! He was going to be signing books and I was determined to meet him... but then at the last minute, his appearance was cancelled due to illness and for a third time, I missed my opportunity.

When the announcement was made early this year he was to return for a show at Melbourne's Regent Theatre, I was thrilled. I was not alone. The tickets sold out in just a few short hours and I missed my chance. I was so disappointed, but unwilling to pay scalpers elevated ticket prices, I just had to accept it.

My friend Mal and his wife Marion managed to get tickets and my excitement for them was genuine, particularly when I realised Marion was also a huge fan (she cried when she realised they had managed to get tickets 2 rows from the front). It was to be a special occasion for her 40th birthday and they were both thrilled.

When I received a message from Mal to tell me Marion was sick the night before the show, I hoped with all my heart that she would be well enough to make it the next day. But she didn't get better, she got worse and the next morning they decided she would not be leaving her bed, let alone the house. She would not to make the show and they offered their tickets to me. I didn't want to go in her place, they were meant to go. Not me. I was devastated for them. But they insisted that they wanted me to go and to take their tickets and so the arrangements were made. And that night my Mum and I went and saw Sir David Attenborough.

He did not disappoint. What an incredible man. At 86, he is the world's most traveled person. He has been to the North and South Poles and everywhere in between. He has been on our TV screens for sixty years and in that time the world population has trebled. He is passionate and so so excited to share his stories. He has gratitude for a full and exciting life and is full of praise for the people in his life. Without the cameramen taking such extraordinary footage he admits, there would not have been a show. They captured the magic, he was merely fortunate to be there to stand before them.

He spoke for just on two and a half hours, after which we all gave him a standing ovation, as he stood and nodded his head in humble thanks. And whilst I have yet to meet my hero in person, I do feel as if we sat together and shared a chat. And as expected, the conversation was a little one way, but I'm ok with that... I was a little awe-struck afterall!

Make sure you click on the link below to watch his rendition of "It's a wonderful world." It really is magical.

It's a wonderful world...

Even in hindsight and having loved being able to go to the show, I still wish Marion and Mal had been able to attend. And rest assured, if/when he ever comes back to Melbourne, I will be queueing up to get them (and me) tickets.
*As an added bonus the two nights he appeared in Melbourne were being recorded for DVD, so I'll be keeping my eyes open for that too!

Kayaking Melbourne city...

Last night a friend and I joined an evening kayaking trip that began in the Docklands area of Melbourne and ventured into the mouth of the Yarra River and under the Bolte Bridge.

It had been looking pretty ordinary weather wise for most of the day, but thankfully the rain held off and the dark clouds merely acted as a dramatic backdrop to this amazing city as we watched the fading light turn the city golden.

It was pretty spectacular, though the only shot I have to share is from dry ground after the hour and a half on the water.

I do love the Bolte Bridge. And it was a highlight of the night to paddle beneath its span.

I am also happy to report no Coast Guard rescue was required and we did not make it onto the late news.

A taste of Paris...

  

 

With just 2 nights in Paris (and barely 3 days), we knew we would be unable to even brush the surface of all this magnificent city has to offer. We knew it would be impossible to do all that we wanted and that compromises would have to be made.

What we did not expect was to leave Paris having only visited ONE of our intended destinations. We did get to see a LOT of the Paris sites from the outside, but queues, closed days and even industrial action were barriers we had not anticipated.

We did not manage to get inside even one of the galleries we had wanted to visit, and given we had a list of at least three, we couldn't help but be disappointed. We made mistakes (which is clearer in hindsight of course) and a few of our decisions then had a domino effect, meaning we missed out on other options also.

But, let me assure you we still had a wonderful time. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, The Musée D'Orsay, The Louvre, The Arc De Triomphe... we saw them all, if only from the outside. Thankfully they are all pretty amazing even on the outside, though of course it would have been nice to take a wander inside too! Que Sera, Sera. We were in PARIS!

We stayed in the Latin Quarter, within walking distance to the Musée du Luxembourg, a short bus trip into The Louvre and close to other attractions. Right next door to our hotel was an amazing patisserie and boulangerie. OMG. The camembert baguette we shared and the amaaaazing chocolate eclair alone were worth the trip across the English channel!!! Seriously, my mouth is just watering thinking about it!

So, you may ask, you didn't get to visit any of these attractions, what DID you see?

Well, we did (on the second attempt) manage to visit the Catacombs. It had been highly recommended, and we were determined to see it. We arrived on our second day, around 2:30 in the afternoon, to be met at the end of a lengthy queue, by a security officer who informed us that from that spot it would take us at least two hours to get in, and that they did not allow entry after 4pm. We were already too late.

We wandered away, disappointed at the latter end of a day of disappointments, and found a seat in a street side cafe and ordered hot chocolates (mouth is watering again!!!). It was nice to sit down and take a break. 

We watched the world go by and enjoyed the (stumbling) banter with the (very patient) waiter. We sat and watched as the skies darkened and the wind changed direction. Clouds gathered as distant thunder approached. And as the wind picked up and the thunder grew louder, the skies opened. It was torrential. It was unforgiving, and it was landing right on top of the queue of people waiting at The Catacombs. From our sheltered position, we thanked our stars that we were not with them, sipped our drinks whilst savouring our good fortune! 

We decided to return the next day, before our trip back to London, determined to see at least something on our 'must see' list. The next morning we arrived to find the queue was already long, though not too long to break our determination. As we were told it would take about 45 minutes to reach the entrance, and the skies were clear, we were committed. TWO hours later we finally started our descent into the Catacombs of Paris. 

The tunnels hold the remains of about 6 million people (removed from the centuries old Cemetery of the Innocents), which now line 1.5kms of old tunnels and mines of Paris. It opened in the late 18th century as a tourist attraction and is an incredible place to visit. I highly recommend it, as long as you aren't too squeamish or claustrophobic. And that you can manage the narrow spiral staircases that lead in and out at each end.

As for the sites we missed, who knows, we may, (one day) return... I could be convinced based on the hot chocolate and incredible chocolate eclairs alone.

Staying safe in Barcelona just requires a little common sense... and a chupa chup

From the moment we started talking about traveling to Barcelona, we were warned about the dangers and the seedy reputation of the beautiful city's darker side.

We were warned about pickpockets, con-men, gypsies, and shysters.

"Watch out for pickpockets"...
"I just heard a friend of a friend had their suitcase stolen from the reception of their hotel as they booked in, so be careful"...
"When on the trains, watch out for card sharks"...
"Don't trust those buskers in Las Ramblas"...
"The gypsies work in groups you know... be alert"...

So when we booked accommodation (I had technology problems and was unable to book any of the places that came highly recommended on TripAdvisor) we relied on a travel agent.

She told us the best area to stay so that we would be in a safe area but also in the heart of the action. We emphasised our requirement for a central location where we would feel comfortable to come and go at any time of the day or night if we so pleased, and given her experience and knowledge of Barcelona (and lack of ours) we left it in her safe hands to organise.

On the morning we flew from London to Barcelona (knowing we were going to arrive around 8pm) I finally double checked the booking and our hotel location, only to find we had been booked into a hotel in the area our travel agent* had told us to avoid, which also happened to be in the old red light district. Trip advisor reviews were a mixed bunch, but on the whole the hotel location was an issue with many travelers. Unfortunately it was too late to change the booking.

We arrived after dark and my heart sank as I saw the narrow shadowed street where the hotel was located. It was a nice hotel, the staff were friendly and helpful, but their advice on how to get to and from the hotel in hours of darkness did not instill confidence.

The first night we ate locally at a little street side restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. It was a warm evening so there were lots of people out and about, the tables were full and well serviced by attentive waiters and we sat in the flickering lights and neon glow of the neighbouring strip club/porn shop and watched the world go by.

We followed the local custom of sitting with our handbags on our laps whilst dining, deciding it was a pretty good practice and if it was good enough for the locals, it was good enough for us!

Sangria, an enormous pan of paella and a few scuttling cockroaches later... and our warm welcome to Barcelona was complete!

Knowing we were staying in a 'less desirable' location, and with all the warnings ringing in our ears, we spent much of our time in Barcelona alert to our surroundings. We carried our handbags close to our bodies, and once we checked in to our hotel, we locked all our valuables in the safe in our room and carried only what we needed. 

And we never had a problem. We walked everywhere, caught buses and the local metro and felt safe wherever we went. And whilst we never personally felt under threat and we left Barcelona with our wallets intact, I think it is fair to say, that problems do exist.

Tourist areas were a particular target and in one of the shops at Park Guell (a major Gaudi attraction at the top of the city), the first thing we noticed was a sign warning of pickpockets IN THE SHOP!!! Local signs, all tourist advice and even the shop keepers and market holders warned us to be careful.

Barcelona has a bad reputation not of violent crime, but of the 'petty' crime that removes passports and wallets from bags, steals cameras, mobiles and valuables and can generally ruins a holiday.

So, if you plan to visit Barcelona (or any other major city for that matter) take my advice...

Carry no more than what you can easily hold on to. Don't be flashy with jewelry or expensive accessories. Keep your valuables close, with bag zips hidden from prying eyes and hands. Try to know where you are going so you are not a target (avoid consulting maps and guidebooks in the streets if you can). Try NOT to look like a tourist. Dress as you would at home. And stay alert.

And whilst you are taking these simple precautions, try and remember not everyone is dangerous. Remember that people can be friendly and helpful and genuinely happy to be of assistance... without wanting to rob you! And remember to have fun. To enjoy your surroundings. To soak up the amazing atmosphere. Get out and enjoy the sights, just be careful.

Because, for all it's 'bad' reputation, Barcelona's reputation as an amazing city, is also well deserved. It is beautiful, fascinating, friendly, intriguing and welcoming. The old city centre with it's narrow lanes and hidden doorways is full of secrets and well worth exploring. The history is incredible and the art and architecture in particular is breathtaking! (another photo filled post to come)

One security guard we saw was standing guard with a baton at his side and chupa chup at the ready... I kid you not - a chupa chup! Supposedly he was ready for any sticky situation! (ha ha!)


*In our agent's defence, on the day of booking there were major computer issues and another agent booked the accommodation, and had I checked the booking earlier, it could have been changed, but I left it until it was too late.

London Calling...

There was a time I called London home.

I returned to Australia in 1996, having lived there for nearly 8 years, and I have missed it ever since.

It's been a long time. Too long, yes?

Well, in September, I will be returning at last. And I am totally excited. I can't wait to visit with old friends, go back to some favourite places, to see the sights, to haunt the galleries, to soak up the atmosphere.

In some ways, I feel like I'm heading home.

Niagara Falls... This is a time to look before you leap... or better yet, look & don't leap...

WOW.

Niagara Falls.
What can I say?

There were lots of tourists, though probably not as many as had it been sunny & warm! Yes, it rained. And the sun didn't make an appearance all day.
And, it was touristy (what do you expect, this place draws nearly 30 million visitors each year, of course it was touristy!)

But you know what? Despite these minor things, it didn't matter.
We had a great day.

We were awestruck what we saw...
From our very first view at the top of the falls, the energy was incredible. It was here we got our first impression about just how much water was going over the falls and the strength of the flow.

Catching the ferry "Maid of the Mist" was a highlight without doubt. It took us right to the base of the falls where we bobbed about in the swirling waters and felt the full force of the wind and spray generated by the millions of litres that cascade 60 meters over the falls every minute. We managed to get prime position on the top front part of the boat and had the best view and also the most drenching of showers!

The falls were totally amazing. From above, from behind and from below... it was... wow... incredible.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
It was a great day.

Thanks so much to Sharon & Marie for taking us!

We've arrested your Mum and sent her back to Australia...

So it was a long flight. Really long. 14 hours which seemed to stretch to days. By the time we arrived in Los Angeles we were both already feeling pretty wiped out (I had worked the day I left and we left at 8.45 pm so with little sleep, we both felt as if we had been on the move for hours)

Anyway.

We arrive at LA, where we have to go through immigration and passport checks. Mum and I queue and go to separate desks to be processed. I get through first and Mum is still being checked and looking a little confused.

There is something wrong with her passport and visa. They don't match.

No probs, I say, I'll go and get the luggage and meet you back here once they have it all sorted out. And off I go.

Thing is, I start getting a little anxious when I am the last to collect my luggage and not only has Mum not appeared, she has disappeared. I can't find her where I last saw her. She is NOWHERE to be seen!

So I find the official who had been dealing with her, and after he was finished with his current group, I asked him if he knew where my Mum had gone.

He looked me straight in the eye and said: "We have arrested her and sent her back to Australia".

Now, I have always been told these guys are not ones to joke around and so, I was thinking something was definitely wrong. And that very possibly Mum was hyperventilating somewhere at the prospect of a 14 hour return trip to Australia without as much as a taste of a NYC hotdog!

What do you mean? Are you serious? Arrested?

The look on my face must have made his day and he seemed to respond accordingly, with smiles, laughter and reassurance that he was "only joking"!!!

Who said these guys didn't have a sense of humour???
He was an absolute cracker!
Aye aye aye!

No need to worry, my Mum was eventually processed and let into the country and we went on our merry way.

We have just arrived in Portland Maine, about 30 hours after leaving Melbourne. It's midday and as we need to keep moving so that we don't crash too early. The weather is warm and the pool is beckoning...

Making a list and checking it twice...

Passport - check.

Tickets - check.

Money/credit cards - check.

Flat cleaned, paperwork sorted, bills paid.

Check, check, check.

Washing done - check.

House sitter organised - check.

Late minute catch ups with friends - check.

Work replacement organised - check.

Lift to airport booked - check.

Tim tams, cherry ripes, caramello koalas packed?

Check check check.

Ready to go?

check!

1 week today...

This time next week, I will be at the airport about to jump on a plane to the States.

Am I organised?
Well, I think so. Sort of.
Mostly. Given that there is still a week to go...
I do have my tickets and my passport and visa sorted.

Am I packed? 
No.
I don't even have a bag yet!
... maybe I'm not so organised afterall.

Am I getting nervous?
Ahhh, yeh, a bit.
Not really a fan of flying.
Just want to get there as smoothly as possible.
And want it to all go well.
And not too fast!

What are my plans?
People keep asking me, and this is my standard answer...
First stop Maine.
Then, maybe...
up to Canada, Nova Scotia, Toronto?
Niagara Falls? Boston? Nantucket? Cape Cod?
Definitely Maine, DC and NYC for sure.
Apart from that... Hmmmm, not totally sure right now, but that's ok, right?

What's the first thing I am going to do?
Sit in the sun and go for a swim in the hotel pool.
I have been told that exposure to sunshine helps the body adjust to the shift in time-zones and helps you recover from the effects of jetlag, so that's high on my priority list. And believe me, I can't wait to soak up some summer sunshine.
Of course, I will have to be careful not to scare the other guests with my untanned skin!

What are you interested in seeing (apart from friends)?
Again, open to pretty much anything, but here are a few things high on the list...
A baseball game (hopefully in NYC)
Central Park, NYC.
Tanglewood 4H Camp, Maine.
Galleries.
The Statue of Liberty from a ferry.
Niagara Falls.
New England coast.
The Northern Lights.
A show on Broadway.
Times Square.
The White House.
Wildlife (of the animal kind)
A chipmunk.
A moose.
A woodpecker... do you know I didn't actually realise they existed until I saw them last time - I actually thought it was just a cartoon character. Seriously. Next I'll be hearing that roadrunners exist too right? They don't exist, do they?

What are you hoping for?
Good weather.
Friends - new and old.
Relaxation.
Laughter.
Inspiration.
Time out.
A good book.
Clarity.
Easy decisions.
Beauty.
A nice beach.
Adventure.
Good company.
The Northern Lights.
Friendship.
Fun.
Space.

Lobster... mmm.

Good food.

A sunny place to sit and be still.

Am I excited?
You bet I am.
(like you couldn't tell!)

Great traveling companions...

Did I tell you I am traveling to the States with my Mum?

For ages I had been talking of escape and adventure and taking a break from the world. Thing is, I wanted to escape everything and everyone, and this was the reason (in part at least) that I took so long to decide what to do and where to go... Because (and here comes the confusing bit) although I wanted to escape, I didn't really want to spend the entire 6 weeks on my own - I also wanted to have company at times too. I really didn't know what I wanted. Apart from everything of course!!!

And so, when I told my Mum I was going to the States, I asked if she wanted to come along too. And of course the answer was yes! There are many great things about this. Amongst them... I get along well with my Mum and we travel well together. We are interested in many of the same things... art, beauty, nature, people watching, relaxing, good food and fun. On top of that, she is like traveling with my own history book as she was bought up in the days when history was a strong part of a child's education and she remembers so much of it!

Also, she understands that I like my own space and we are not so precious that either of us will take it personally if one of us wants to do something different for a day or two.

Originally we agreed that out of 6 weeks away, we would spend 4 weeks together and 2 weeks apart (this I admit, was at my suggestion). I saw it as a good balance without either of us feeling too crowded and not being isolated either. I had plans to head to the Virgin Islands for a beach break and Mum was heading to Nova Scotia to soak up some Canadian goodness.

I was both excited (for me) and a little jealous (of her) at the same time. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that Mum had the right idea... I reaslised that traveling to the Northern parts of the States, just to escape it for two weeks by traveling South for 7+ hours, was just a little bit crazy. I had come all that way, why not make the most of the area while there?

And so, I changed my plans. We have now decided that we will probably hang out together for most of the time... mostly because we want to do most of the same things anyway and it will be more fun with company. And if we decide to go our own way for a day or two at any stage, that's cool too.

Seems finding a rich Texan millionaire (and potential husband) is probably not likely to happen while hanging out with my Mum, and I won't be skinny dipping in the Carribean any time soon, and I'm pretty sure I can say we will not be bungy jumping, paragliding or climbing any glaciers, but that's ok. Because even if I miss out on these few things, we are going to have a great time together regardless.

Just ten sleeps to go!

Back in 'my day' it wasn't this complicated... was it?

I traveled extensively in my 20s. India (briefly) and Africa at the innocent age of 21, followed by countries across 3 continents. I look back and wonder at my bravery. I had a few close calls... and a lot of luck along the way. I certainly never considered myself brave, and truth be told, it was probably more naivete that got me through (and may well have been my salvation)!



And whilst things were not always easier, all in all, they were more simple times.

In those days there were none of the complications of todays techno travel...

I said my farewells at the departures gate, not knowing when I would next speak to my family. 

I had a passport pre-stamped to allow my entry into foreign countries. 

I used a backpack and carried it like a turtle carries it's home - on my back. 

I carried a money belt packed with my airline tickets, travelers cheques, some local currency...

and a swiss army knife!!!

I had a list of post offices where I would collect post... a service referred to as poste restante.

I had a camera and a spare battery.

16 rolls of film in a lead lined bag to protect it from the xray machines.

A dog-eared Lonely Planet filled with circled cheap deals and places to stay.

Adventure waited around every corner.

There was no internet.

No email.

No mobile phones.

No quick way to call for help if the going got tough, or book a hotel from the train before arriving in unfamiliar territory.

Luggage did not come with built in wheels.

As I said, they were simpler times.

This time around, it feels like an exercise in technological warfare.
Passport with electronic chip inserted.

Electronic visa.

Home printed tickets with barcode for electronic check-in.

Mobile phone.

Charger.

Camera.

Charger.

Memory cards.

Netbook.

Charger.

Cords.

Cables.

Converters.

Adaptors.

Credit cards.

Pin numbers.

Cash passport with US currency.

Pin numbers.

ATM card/s.

More pin numbers.

Surely our simple, more advanced life, is actually more complicated than ever? My luggage is going to be chock a block full of cables and electronic goods. And I haven't even started packing yet. And I am definitely suffering from a major case of pin number fatigue.

Winging it in the USA and holding onto adventure...

I have been meaning to add an update post to my blog for ages, but because my plans have been changing (and more countdown posts were getting a little bit boring), it was hard to know where to start. And on top of all that, I have been super busy.

All the planning (tickets/itinerary/accommodation/contacting friends)

The paper work (passport/money/visa)

Organising my life and home in my absence (house sitter/bills to be paid/work replacement)
Making decisions (where to go/what to do/where to stay)

Google has become my best computer buddy, taking over temporarily from my bff - blogging. Any free time I have had, has been spent researching, planning, changing plans and thinking about other plans.

As if procrastination isn't bad enough, add in indecision (a slightly different affliction) and a touch of nervousness and the plans have been rotating and changing on a daily basis.

The internet, in some ways makes it all a little too accessible, too easy to plan everything before even boarding the plane. Down to an itinerary for each and every day, each moment accounted for, each meal, tour and destination planned. But where is the adventure in that?

So, instead of over planning, I have decided to wing it a little.

I had plans. Lots of them.

Maybe too many.

Some have changed.

Some remain the same.

Many more will no doubt change along the way...

And so, as far as telling you my plans, I can't tell you that much at all.
What I do know of my six weeks in the USA is this...
I be staying in Maine for the first week and renewing my love for beautiful New England.
I am staying with old friends and we will be having a small reunion with a few others too.
I am spending ten nights in NYC, and at least three in Washington DC.

I am meeting up with some blogging friends.

And the rest?
There are many options of course, but right now, I am trying to hold on a little to the adventure of not knowing what might happen... being open to all the possibilities, embracing the freedom, relaxing... and remembering to breathe. At least three of the six weeks are a mystery at this stage, and that is how it's going to stay for now.

Maybe it's a little bit crazy, but it's pretty exciting too!

And so you know, it's just over two weeks to go...

Selling up to go traveling...

I chose this image because (as you know) it's just 37 sleeps to the USA, but also because this is my car - well it's the same version as my car - a 40th anniversary edition to commemorate when the Mini won the Monte Carlo Rally in 1964.

Mine doesn't have the checkered roof or details, but it has a number 37 on the side (the number of the car that won the race).

I love it, though recently I have been considering selling it and going traveling for a year. What do you think?

Any buyers?

* I just wanted to say a very big thank you to everyone for your comments and suggestions re travel to the USA and apologise for not getting around to many blogs lately (and those I do visit I haven't been leaving many comments). Planning for the big trip has been keeping me busy, but I am still here and lurking about. And I will return!

48 Sleeps

On this day in 7 weeks I will be getting on a plane to NYC, USA.


I will be away for a total of 6 and a half weeks. I can barely believe it is happening! It seems like an age since I have had a holiday and I really do need the break, and 6.5 weeks is bliss.

My Mum (Mom) and I will be traveling together. We have agreed to spend 4 weeks together and 2 weeks 'doing our own thing', so that I can get the escape from 'my world' that I have been craving, and we can hang out together for the rest of it. Thankfully we are good travel companions, so it will be a great combination.

There has been some planning (though this weekend will see more when Mum and I get together) and this is where it stands at this stage...

Arrive NYC, August 5th.
Head straight to Maine for the first week or two. We will hang out with friends and visit Camp Tanglewood where I worked as a summer camp counsellor 20 years ago. I would love to rent a house (or better still be invited to house sit or stay with friends) on the Maine coast.

Picture all those New England postcards you may have seen of little seaside towns with stark white homes and tiny shops huddled around a small bay and that's where we'll be. With luck we will see the Northern Lights.

For those first one to two weeks, my ideal would be relaxing in the summer sun and soaking up good old USA hospitality. No pressure to do anything but grab a book, write a journal, do some drawing, take a walk, sit in a cafe and watch the world go by.

Be still. And breathe. Deeply.

From there it's largely unplanned. At this stage we are going to stay in the northern states as I traveled to California and other southern states 20 years ago.

What I do know... There will be a trip to Niagara Falls. Maybe a few days in Boston. Two weeks of mystery adventures. And then, across the last two weeks I will be in Washington DC for the long weekend in September (where I hope to meet a lovely blogging friend), traveling south to Southern Maryland to visit another friend (due to have twins in the next few weeks) and then ten nights in NYC.

It already sounds busy, but I don't want to over plan as I want to leave some of it to chance. Though I am keen to organise accommodation in NYC so that we can head there and not have to worry about where we will be staying.

I'm expecting there may be some readers who are a little envious (I know this because I know the jealousy I have experienced when reading posts about other blogger's travels) and maybe wish you could be doing the same trip... that right now you are thinking of all the things you would do if you were in the USA for 6 weeks!

I would love to hear your thoughts.

If you had 6 weeks in the USA where would you go and what would you do?
Is there anything you just wouldn't want to miss?
Have you been to NYC? Would you recommend anywhere to stay?
Are there markets you would like to visit? Stores? Galleries?
Hidden treasures you'd like to share.
Workshops you would like to take?
I would love some specifics. Or just general comments are fine too.

Don't be afraid...

Don't be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated.

You can't cross a chasm in two small jumps.

DAVID LLOYD GEORGE

I need a holiday...

For months now, I have been talking about taking a holiday. An escape of some sort. I know I have spoken about it before. But I am still here, and my annual leave has barely been touched.

I never wanted to be one of those people that had 2 weeks away each summer, only to begin to plan my next summer holiday, to the same destination, the moment I returned. I wanted to be adventurous. To go to new places, experience new things. Spread my wings and see a new part of the world each time I went away. I had travelled broadly for the 8 years I lived overseas and planned to continue to do so.

As it turned out, it didn't quite go as I had hoped...

It occurred to me just last week, that the last time I took a holiday, a proper, more than one week away type holiday, was January 2007. Before that it would have been a one week trip to Darwin, I think in 2005. Before that, maybe 2003 or even 2002. It's 2010 already!

Seems in avoiding what I saw as 'ordinary', I have somehow managed to go without a decent holiday altogether! What the fuck have I been doing?

For whatever reason, even though a holiday well and truly beckons, I can't seem to make my mind up as to what to do, when to go, or even where to go. There are any number of excuses for not making a decision, most of them in no way logical or sensible. And my passport remains unstamped. The furthest I have travelled in the last 2 years is Canberra, a mere one hour flight from home!

I am driving my friends mad.
I am driving my family mad.
But most of all,
I am driving myself mad.

I have considered...
Thailand
The UK
Cambodia
Vietnam
India
New Zealand
The USA
A caravan on the coast of NSW (Aus)
A road trip around the coast of Australia
Cairns
Darwin
God help me, I have even considered the Gold Coast!
I have considered
Camping in the backyard!
Camping in the front yard!
An artist retreat
A health retreat
A retreat from the world...

Right now, indecision is my biggest problem.

I know it's not a problem of epic proportions.
In fact, I can barely call it a problem.
Not in the true sense of the word.
But I need a holiday.

Help me.

All the windows of my heart...

“All the windows of my heart I open to the day.”
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

*Photo taken by me during my travels across Africa in 1989. Sorry about the quality, this is a photo of a photo and the reproduction is pretty poor.

Could it be me in National Geographic?

Last weekend I was at my parents home in Point Lonsdale (small seaside town in Victoria, Australia) helping with a major spring clean of their home that has been ongoing for the last few months. It is an overwhelming task, mostly as the belongings of my parents have been accumulated over the course of many years and my father in particular is an incredible hoarder. This past weekend was set to be another negotiation of what was to be discarded and what to be saved as we tackled the linen press where things had been hidden away for years.

Amongst the bedding, beach towels and childhood games there was an extensive collection of National Geographic magazines, some from as long ago as 1967, the year that I was born. My father (true to form and totally expected) did not want to get rid of the magazines and so it was decided to dust them all off and return them to the shelves. As we flicked through them and placed them back, I collected a few of interest, including an edition that included an article about Dian Fossey and the mountain gorillas from 1970 and another with an article about Jane Goodall. As I continued to stack the magazines back onto the shelves, another one caught my eye as I glimpsed the words Zaire River on the spine.

I opened it up, flicked to the article and exclaimed to my mother that here was the river I had once travelled, and on this very barge that was pictured in the article. It was a part of my travels in Africa that I had never been able to describe accurately as words could not do justice to the experience and I did not have any pictures of this journey. We were advised before boarding that security was a problem and it would be best to avoid carrying anything of any value with us. As we would be sleeping on the roof of one of the barges, with no real protection, most of us decided it was good advice and so most cameras were left with friends who would not be making the trip.

And so, as you may imagine, to find the article was an absolute treat for me and I was quite thrilled with the images in particular, as they bought to life a journey I had taken nearly 21 years ago.

The crocodile under the stairs, the chimpanzee that was for sale in the bar and the barge-side sales were all as I had remembered, not to mention the incredible conditions and the number of people on board. No-one could really have imagined the reality of that barge without being there or without seeing these images. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, nor seen since.

The article was published in 1991, less than two years after I was there and it didn't occur to me at first that it could have been our trip... and yet, as I looked closer, I noticed there were a number of white people in a small group on the roof of one of the boats and in fact 3 of them looked remarkably like 3 of the people in my group. Their stance and their heights and their features were certainly familiar. Seriously. I was stunned.

Could this photo have been taken at the same time we were there and could they really be people I knew? It wasn't until the following day during closer examination that I noticed another 3 people sitting further along on the highest point of the 5 boats and I think one of them might be me!

Now, this may not be of particular interest to you, but to me, to have this article bring my memories to life and that it is POSSIBLE that it is actually me there in this amazing photo in National Geographic... well that to me is so so exciting. The photographer Robert Caputo has captured the essence of what that trip was to me.

I read the article with interest and according to the magazine there was a film made of the journey and I am of course, eager to watch it and will have try to contact National Geographic to find out if it is available.

In the meantime, through the magic of the internet and Google, I visited Robert Caputo's website and here is a link to the amazing photo. His photos are available for sale via Aurora Photos and I have emailed them in an attempt to contact him and find out the dates the photos were taken.

I travelled in Africa for the first 4 months of 1989 and according to my diary we boarded the barge on Feb 19th in Kisangani and disembarked at Lisala just 3 days (and a huge adventure) later. How incredible if these photos were taken on the very same journey. And how amazing that nearly 21 years later, I should happen upon the article in a pile of magazines that had not been touched for years.

I hope to hear from Robert sometime soon and will let you know what he says.

Flashback Friday...

“Life is either a great adventure or nothing.”
HELEN KELLER

Apparently all good adventures require a funky handbag! You know... so you can carry all those adventure requirements... a compass, a pocketknife, a bar of chocolate!

Have a great week-end everyone.

This is what makes me happy...

1. Window Seat, 2. Beautiful bedding, 3. Frangipani 4, 4. Jump, 5. Sunny smile, 6. Scrabble Dreaming, 7. Full bowl of maltesers, 8. Deserted Beach, 9. Beautiful Shells

It seems to me, that we sometimes forget to acknowledge even the simplest of things that make our lives more pleasurable. And often we spend so much time pondering on the battles of our lives that we don't even realise how lucky, or happy we are.

I have been thinking about it a little lately. Trying to be more aware of the things that bring joy to my life. More often than not, it is the small things that make me happy. So I have made a list, for a couple of reasons... A good list makes me happy and, I have decided to list only 10 things, so I have time to go and visit everyone else's "This is" posts for this week. I hope you have all enjoyed the theme... and you have a happy Sunday.

This is what makes me happy...

A free table in the window of my favourite cafe makes me happy.

Slipping into a freshly laundered bed after a long day makes me happy.

The smell of frangipani on a warm summer evening makes me happy.

Living a creative and adventurous life makes me happy.

Summer smiles make me happy.

Using all my tiles in scrabble on a triple word score... makes me happy.

Curling up, with a good book and a full bowl of maltesers, beside an open fire makes me happy.

A walk on a deserted beach makes me happy.

Beautiful things make me happy.

BUT. ABOVE ALL.
My family and friends makes me happy. When everyone is healthy and happy - so am I. I am happy when spending time in their good company, sharing stories over a healthy meal, laughing. Being happy together. THAT is what makes me happy.

Thanks again to Angela for creating the "this is" magic