Tag: travel

What a year!

RDP – Monday -Bar

The year started like every other year. I was expecting life to set the bar no higher or lower than it has, over the past decade. I hurtled towards the familiar landscapes I’ve travelled across so frequently. I thought I had it all. Unknown to me, the Universe had other ideas.

First a family member became gravely ill and spent two months in intensive care. They have now recovered to a life that they had before illness. That, itself, is a miracle.

Reeling from this distress, I lost two-thirds of my business due to the vagaries that prevail in my field of work. I curled up into a ball …. for one night …. and, entirely unsolicited, was offered an even better and more lucrative contract the very next day. So the last few months have been hectic and kept me away from the blog as I wind up some of my work allowing me to focus on the contract I’m enjoying. To say I wake with a smile each morning is an understatement. I am in a happy space as I know within each loss, is a hidden unexpected gain.

Some of my regular work in the Goldfields continues. My hotel is in the middle of town and I, coffee in hand, never tire of the vista of beautiful old architecture each month.

I found this year a thunderstorm in the Goldfields is worth experiencing. It is all flash, thunderous noise and torrential warm rain. Quite breathtaking!

There was gold in other places too. I managed a trip to Narrogin in spring and found clumps of hibbertia hemignosta everywhere in Foxes Lair.

Then there was that amazing trip to Kalbarri in the north, where a few moments felt like a golden hour.

Flying over the pink lake of Port Gregory in the north on the way to Carnarvon, a destination I never reached but did experience three failed attempts of the small plane trying to land in poor weather, before returning home again. I have no memory of the journey home!

Flying over Shark Bay is always a treat! What’s not to love looking at this view on my way to work. It’s better than sitting in grid locked city traffic!

I spent a weekend in Margaret River without WIFI. The lack of intrusion from the outside world felt like another era in time. I have no idea what these flowers are but they were growing in huge bunches on tall trees. The birds loved them!

In spring Foxes Lair put up the usual show of wild flowers. I thought this jug orchid, drenched in morning dew, was gorgeous.

As were the tiny wild donkey orchids.

I’ve driven to Esperance three times in 12 years. It is a long drive of several hours. I tend to sleep overnight in Narrogin as the roads to Esperance are long and lonely. Fatigue is a dangerous companion. This place is a favourite stop in Ravensthorpe, a small town where this tiny shop does a roaring trade from tourists passing by. It sells all kinds of lollies (candy), ice creams, milk shakes and, of course, hot dogs. I love the Motown music she plays on repeat and it is the only place I buy a hot dog because it just seems the right place to eat one!

This tiny Mexican restaurant is in the north. It was several kms out of the town I was staying and there were no street lights on the way there. Ordinarily I would have returned back to the hotel as I had no idea where I was headed in the dark, but, much like falling in love, found it was worth the journey.

We have had a few days of fierce bushfires in the north, the smoke muting the sun during the day. I went outdoors at dusk to bring in the laundry and found this spectacular double rainbow over my backyard.

Although it has been a year of endings and beginnings, it is also a year when I have been scared out of my wits during flights and it is helping me to rethink some of my travel. Landing in Perth in a big plane from a mining town, I braced myself by holding on to the seat in front expecting the jarring of the tyres on tarmac when suddenly we were scooped up into the air again. There was no announcement, just silence while the plane circled for close to half an hour, over the ocean. People were murmuring waiting to hear the pilot speak and it seemed forever when he announced due to wind shear he could not land. Of all that I have experienced, that is one experience I rather not have again.

So what have I learned this year?

I’ve learnt to trust and it has strengthened my faith, not by doing more, but doing less. I’ve actively practiced acceptance and detachment in my everyday life (I had no other option, but to). And by doing so, found a new lease on life and an enormous sense of peace. Each day I make a concerted attempt at decluttering my life and environment. It is no longer a chore but something I look forward to every day. I buy only what I need. I only keep what I use. I honour the space I live in. I honour the space where my thoughts are kept. I honour the life I have been given.

I’ve arrived at this space because I found Nature is a healer and a teacher. We need to honour that.

So my wish for you is a simple one. Let Nature nurture your spirit. It is more powerful and richer, than any human headline.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

With these hands …

RDP: Sculpture

Give a child a lump of Playdoh and they will, squeeze, twist and pat, and create something with it. It is the creative and playful mind at work.

To be creative is one thing, but it is not always synonymous with being imaginative. The distinction is this. A child can copy a Lego design beautifully brick by brick, but a child who pulls it apart and creates something of their own, is using their imagination. This distinction is something I’ve always had to be mindful of in my work with children.

When I moved into my current home a decade ago, the dream was to fill it with art and sculpture. The plan was to live in a happy place, a place I could call home. It has taken some time, but I’m getting there.

While striving to shape my dream into a reality, I had to be content with eclectic art and sculpture I found in other places.

Roadside, on the way to Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

The Balinese people make ornate carvings that adorn even the humblest of homes.

At the entrance of my hotel, Bali

Then there are those that are huge and imposing, often found in the hotels.

Outside the hotel spa, Bali

This sculpture, in particular, took me back to childhood years. We had a guava tree that canopied over a small water tank. I spent many an hour, stretched out over a branch, watching people below, pretending I was a leopard.

The sculpture is beautifully made and perhaps best viewed when expanded to see the filigree that makes up the spots on the leopard.

In a friend’s garden, Canberra

I love how someone turned a humble garden spade into a quirky little duck.

Waterbird, sculpture by Jason Wooldridge, a local artist and sculptor in Esperance, Western Australia

I find Jason’s work irresistible and his vision finds a place in my home and heart. I have several of his work. All birds, of course! He takes scrap metal and turns it into delicate sculpture.

Jonathan Jones, indigenous sculptor, National Art Gallery, Canberra

I was in Canberra last year for just two days. My nephew, an architect, asked me what I wanted to do. The National Gallery, of course! Of all that the Gallery offered in the time I was there, I was so drawn to the work of Jonathan Jones. These massive stones were in a huge open space with a narration in Wiradjuri language underpinning a simple but profound message about Country: stay connected, and the reciprocity of need and caring for it. I went to the Gallery with my nephew and his toddler. She sat in the stroller, quiet as a mouse and took it all in, as did we. There was a sense of solemnity that was quite powerful and moving. It was difficult to walk away from this space.

Sculpture by Jonathan Jones, National Art Gallery, Canberra

Sculpture by Jonathan Jones, National Art Gallery, Canberra

I loved this one the most. It was huge and just so very beautiful.

River bed, Murchison River, Kalbarri, Western Australia

And then there are those unexpected sculptures left behind in nature.

Some with angles and edges, waiting for the sculptor’s hand to shape and define. Others, made perfect by the storms and ebb and flow of tides, and all that remains, is just heart. Much like us.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Hidden in plain sight

RDP Saturday : Hidden

I recently visited Kalbarri, Western Australia, some 600 kms (or approximately 400 miles) from home. It was my first visit to this region in 40 years. I first went there when Dr T and I were dating. It was a sleepy, tiny hamlet where river mullets danced across the river with pelicans in hot pursuit. Dolphins silhouetted the horizon at sunrise and dusk. It was a magical place and still is, despite the changes over the years.

Kalbarri is now a thriving tourist destination. The area has gorges, wildflowers, river and ocean activities that draw folks to this region. I used to fly low over this region in a five seater plane and the view was always amazing. Silently, I would promise myself I would visit one day but work always got in the way of plans. There is so much to enjoy in this small place, there is grandeur and minutiae to see and experience.

With some trepidation I impulsively booked a sunset cruise on the Murchison River. It was the perfect thing to do for a couple of hours on a warm night. The small group of tourists from all around the world were soon chatting like friends. My heart was filled with nature and photo ops. Soon my fear of being on water was a distant memory.

With a stunning landscape around us, I suspect the views became ‘more of the same’ for some folks.

Not me! I was enthralled.

Murchison River, Kalbarri, Western Australia

It was moments like this that took my breath away.

I could not get enough of this region and will be returning in spring when it will be awash with wildflowers.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Yes, time does stand still

RDP FRIDAY: TIME

It was around mid-year last year. As the financial year was winding up I was busier than usual. The hotel I stay at in one town messes up the booking each month and I was not looking forward to the trip. After staying in seven hotels in a month, and on three occasions at this particular hotel, I arrived at Reception hoping there would not be an issue. But, yes, they messed up again and blamed the computer. I haven’t stayed there since.

The next trip was exactly what I needed. Although my colleague and I have travelled a lot in this region, especially before the pandemic, this was unfamiliar country and we were open to a new challenge. 

The logistics of visiting the community was daunting and required some careful planning but we were up for it! 

Occasionally we would encounter traffic, the kind that makes you stop but unlike in the city where I’m frustrated and impatient at traffic lights, these are minutes to scan the sky for wedge tail eagles or wildlife in the bush.

Driving through towns with no midday peak hour traffic, is my kind of town!

Soon we were sharing roads less travelled, laughing and coughing our way through the dust.

We left civilisation behind and turned off-road with nothing but written directions to guide us. We could hardly contain our excitement and chattered incessantly, partly nervous about the unknown, and partly the sheer excitement of where we were headed.

The drive was long and we stopped along the way to stretch our legs. This arid region had received some rainfall and we knew the combination of unseasonable heat and rain meant wildflowers would arrive early.

There were patches of these succulents for kilometres by the side of the unsealed roads.

Tiny clumps of perfection.

And fields of gleaming white everlastings, crisp to the touch.

We finally arrived at our accommodation, a sheep station, the only place we could stay that was a central point to where we were going to work for a few days. 

Being mid-winter, the nights were clear and cold. I stood alone on the back verandah and counted my blessings, my smile mirrored in the moon.

Mornings were filled with the raucous calls of the pink galahs that festooned the trees and from waking chickens that provided breakfast.

If it was cold outdoors, it certainly wasn’t indoors. There were roaring fires and hospitality to warm one’s heart. The salads and vegetables straight from the kitchen garden and protein from the station. I cannot remember the last time I enjoyed meals as much as I did here. Although there were just five of us at the dinner table (including the hosts), I felt I had been transported to another time where one talked, shared experiences, and being wifi free, enjoyed the meal without the constant glancing at the phone, as people do in the city.

Although the homestead is old and the only residential building designed in 1916 by Monsignor John Hawes (more about him in another post), the new bathrooms were adjacent to the bedrooms and across the back verandah. Just before leaving the homestead I ducked into the ladies before a long drive ahead when ….

I noticed this! Thinking this was a deterrent to encourage correct recycling, the owner laughed and stated, nope! They have snakes that come on the verandah and being wildlife they are not allowed to kill them, so they collect them and drop them off a few kilometres away from the homestead.

In a span of three days I had gone from standing at a Reception desk being thoroughly annoyed at check in, to being transported to another world. I know which one I prefer!

I reflected today if I was granted a wish, what would it be? There is only one thing I would want. It is time. And it cannot be bought, but one is richer when one realises this.

My wish for you today is savour each moment.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

The roads we take …

Paula Light has suggested we post one thing we love every day during the month of February. I love the idea of this and it generates all kinds of good feelings in me.

I recently went through a ruthless culling process in my garage. One of the hardest decisions I had to make was to discard this old suitcase, one I have had since 1978. It has no wheels. How on earth did I lug it around airports is a mystery.

One of my enduring loves has been travel. I yearned to travel from a very young age, and have done so, and awoke to childhood dreams. The excitement remains to this day for me.

I no longer travel overseas, not because of the pandemic, but because I am discovering my own backyard. There’s value in this. I’ve learned to look closer to home, because that’s where my heart is happiest.

May all roads lead you to where you call home.

Until next time

As always

a dawnbird

‘I’m like a bird …’

Frequent travel is not for everyone.  I know this for a fact in my profession.  Colleagues would much prefer to sit in an office and see a stream of 6-7 people a day, like some friends I had lunch with recently.  One jokingly asked if I’m running from something.  Fair call.  I recall watching a show about a business woman who was a victim of trauma and later became very successful.  She gave motivational lectures everywhere.  Although married, she liked the transient lifestyle.  She had a reason to stay detached.  I seem to do the same.  I have acquaintances where ever I work.  I meet folks for dinner here and there.  When I want my own space, I have it, no questions asked or answered.

Why does a vagrant lifestyle suit me?  If I were to examine it more closely I would say, it is because I love to travel and I love the work I do with people.  It is as simple as that. It satisfies me on a spiritual level.

Then there’s the personal aspect to it.  I love the freedom my lifestyle gives me.  I don’t answer to anyone.  I make my own plans for holidays when I want to.  I don’t have to consider whether it suits someone else’s schedule or not.  I spend my money the way I want to.  Is this selfish?  Or self-preservation?  I really don’t know but what I do know is, although I have a home, I love being ‘homeless’ for most days of the month.  If I had someone in my life, I’d sell everything, buy a caravan and travel, camping under the stars instead of living in hotels.  That’s the only yearning I have.  Perhaps, this will eventuate some day.  Until then, Nellie Furtado’s song, “I’m like a bird …” loops in my head.

You don’t see too many homeless people in rural areas as one does in the city.  There is one man in particular I’m always curious about.  I love his spirit.  Everyone knows him in town and yet no one seems to know everything about him.  Being a visitor, I’ve gleaned information from here and there.  I’ve given him a life story, one I have no idea if true or not.  It soothes my romantic heart.  I don’t see him being selfish.  From what I gather, in a farming town, where everyone knows everyone else, he lives the way he does by choice.  I’ve seen him in a grocery shop.  Never too greedy, he only gets what he needs.  He is also generous, whatever little he has, I’ve seen him share with birds.

I’ve written about him in another post. I hope you are as curious about him as I am.

I fly out next week and the cycle starts.  I have a daunting schedule of travel in February.  Be still, my restless heart!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

Luxe, I think not!

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is Posh, meaning high end.  Interesting to note the word comes from Romani language, too.  I didn’t know this before!  It makes my post today more meaningful to me.

A few months ago I had an unexpected wake up call regarding my health.  It made me reassess my life and priorities.  I realised we work towards a future, forgetting about ‘the now’.  As I waited for my results (by the way were all clear), I did not want to share my concerns with my colleague, so I enjoyed the trip as if it was my last one.  It made me savour every moment.  I travelled light.

As it turned out over dinner we talked about books and she recommended Paul Kalanithi’s ‘When Breath Became Air’.  I found the book in the airport bookshop on the following trip and started to read it during the flight.  As I turned the pages, the fragility of life as I know it, felt palpable in my hands.  I promised myself the words, “….some day …” would not be part of my vocabulary unless I made active plans for that day to eventuate.  I came back from my trip and booked a short trip to the Coral Coast.

I fly over the Coral Coast in Western Australia, look down on the stunning seascape and yearn to visit, “some day” and most of all, the tiny airport in Shark Bay is where I wanted to disembark.  Now I’ve heard others who choose to fly Etihad and gush about the luxury of Dubai Airport.  Not me.  I wanted to experience disembarking at Shark Bay airport.thumb_IMG_3694_1024.jpgThere is just a cyclone fence that separates the tarmac from the airport.  I’ve been on flights where the co-pilot stepped out and helped unload the luggage.  Everyone here is, “mate”.  Give me this over luxury any day!thumb_IMG_3743_1024.jpgThis is the arrival lounge.  It is quite possible there was a water bottle dispenser nearby, and some toilets, but that was it.thumb_IMG_3744_1024.jpgArrival/Departure lounge. That’s it!

To say this is a tin shed is adding glamour to the structure.  Posh, it is not! But, I wouldn’t want to see this changed for the world.  I love this airport!

At the airport I met another passenger who was travelling to the same hotel as me so we started chatting as we waited for the car to pick us up.  She was from New Mexico and doing a quick tour of Western Australia.  I was impressed with her ingenuity of researching the areas she wanted to visit.  She had avoided the big tourist icons in Sydney and Melbourne to visit the lesser known in the other side of the world. I, on the other hand, had heard about Shell Beach and the dolphins at Monkey Mia but never found the time to visit.  To be in the same place at the same time was a logistically challenging exercise for both of us.  But, we, two gypsies at heart, found ourselves here and determined to enjoy the experience.  Unfortunately the high winds forced the cancellation of her dive tour, and as I had hired a car, we shared the cost and did some sightseeing together.

I left Shark Bay after a brief break feeling I had been on a month’s holiday.  It is a 8-10 hour drive from my home in the city.  Next time I’m determined to drive up here.  My schedule will just have to accommodate that “some day”.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird