Central Australia

Every time I have an international visitor / friend staying with us in Melbourne, I’m quite jealous of their adventures to parts of my own country I’ve never visited.

For that reason (and so many more) our visit to the Red Centre in June felt so long overdue.

Following our gentle foray into hiking holidays with our trip to Maria Island 18 months ago (where it rained THE WHOLE WEEKEND and therefore there are very few photos to prove we ever went and had the best time ever), my mum was very keen to take us girls on another holiday that didn’t involve churches, watching people drink wine or disagreements about each day’s itinerary.

Through a very tenuous personal link, she came across the idea of hiking with a company called Epicurious Travel. Sue will very happily admit she’s far more keen on camping if there’s gourmet food involved… Especially if she can drag a few people into joining her (in this case - Gretta, Dad, Marcus and I).

Hiking the Larapinta TRAIL

I’m kind of ashamed to admit that I didn’t really know much about the Larapinta trail before we talked about hiking it. In the end, this 220km stretch of walking track along the West Macdonnell Ranges - starting at Alice Springs in the east and finishing at Mount Sonder in the west - is pretty incredible.

Unfortunately for us (and photos) a good section of the trail is scarred from bushfires in January and February this year. The stark landscape combined with good sections of scorched earth mean there are areas that feel really eerie and kind of alien.

But there are also so many stretches of vast skyline and rugged geography that are unbelievably beautiful.

Oasis

Maybe as a result of the land feeling extra parched (even for a desert), it was such a pleasure when we found these beautiful oases of calm and cool. Water completely brings the desert to life, and after kilometres of sparse, stark earth, these lush green spots felt like such a relief…

Each day, we would walk from breakfast until mid afternoon. We would wander through landscapes that were interchangeably beautiful, desolate, vast, craggy, lush, and harsh. Some sections were flat, some were hugely steep. Some sections were loose underfoot, some were sharp, some were sandy.

The days sure as hell were more varied than my usual day to day - and that is a wonderful thing.

Ormiston Gorge

Unfortunately for me (but probably fortunately for everyone who had to listen to me incessantly blowing my nose and complaining about it) I didn’t do the hike to the top of Mount Sonder for sunrise.

Instead, the photographic highlight of our time on the trail for me was at the end of our last day of hiking - wandering through beautiful Ormiston Gorge with the most incredible colours on full display.

God the world is amazing…

Our time on the trail was really rather lovely (blisters aside). The fact that this amazing natural wonder exists in the middle of our huge country. I’m really pleased that sections of traditional owner management seems to work, and that there seems to be a real sense of respect and stewardship.

I wish though that we’d found out a little bit more about how this all works - and that I spent less time looking down at my feet as I tried not to fall on my bum. A good metaphor for real life, I guess.

King’s Canyon

After 6 days on the trail, we headed toward Uluru. The drive is long, but has in its favour the possibility of a stop at the incredible King’s Canyon.

This place is unlike anything I’ve seen. The shapes, colours, shadows and curves.

Uluru and Kata Tjuta

Really, visiting the national park at the heart of our country is a pilgrimage every Australian should make.

But be warned that when you do, you’re fighting a good number of tourists to get there. For such a beautiful spiritual place, they sure have managed to make the surrounding township feel like an American resort destination. I just don’t know if hooning around the rock on a segueway is really the best way to understand its spiritual significance…

The rock itself is pretty spectacular - with nuances and textures the whole way around, and so many stories and histories woven through it. The geological forces at play when Uluru, Kata Tjuta, King’s Canyon and Ormiston Gorge kind of blows my mind and reminds me why I wanted to be a geologist for about five minutes during high school - it is such a fascinating way to look at the world.

Despite listening to lots of information about the Uluru Statement from the Heart on our drive to stay just nearby, I don’t feel like my time there really gave me a good handle on the significance of the rock in the broader sense. I know the current co-management arrangement between the National Park and the Traditional Owners is considered a great success story which is amazing, but I would love to know how the local indigenous people feel about the luxury hotels just down the road from their most sacred place.

That said, the Cultural Centre in the park is well set up and contains a lot of information and hence well worth a visit. It sounds like a lot of effort was made to make sure this space was co-designed so that this important information is shared with visitors in a way that is culturally sensitive.

I don’t know what I was expecting with this trip.

Maybe that because we were literally walking the curves of the landscape that we would have a better understanding of the place by the time we left than we might have with other destinations…?

Maybe that because this I have some idea of the cultural significance of this landscape that it would feel more profound than a trip to yet another quaint european town?

Maybe that my feeling of spiritual disconnect with Australia would be solved by landing in this place which is supposed to signify so much?

I posted while we were first looking at Uluru that it is an amazing spiritual landmark for a country that really doesn’t have a lot going on in terms of spirituality.

I think I was hoping for a sense of connection that I know is missing in my daily life, and I naively hoped this place might give it to me. In reality though, the way we live our lives is still very separate from the land we live on - and a few nights in a cold tent won’t change that.

As much as I can appreciate the strange aesthetic beauty of Central Australia, I kind of feel like I can only appreciate it in the same way I might a church or a historic town on any other trip.

Getting under the skin of a place is still going to take a whole lot more when we’re still white visitors to a land that isn’t ours.

For now, I feel a strange mix of guilt and luck that we get to walk on it though.

Southern Italy, 2018

I’m not sure why I do this, but after a trip I really procrastinate with editing my photos and distilling the experience into a blog post. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always very happy to share my photos and thoughts on my adventures with anyone who is willing and interested, but I think the delay might have something to do with the fact that to do this you have to create a kind of distance from this thing - which means accepting that it really is in the past. It kind of means accepting that it’s over - at the same time as reliving just how wonderful it was… It really is a very particular kind of unusual cruelty, that post trip nostalgia…

But here I am - delighting in the memories at the same time as yearning to relive them, and absolutely wishing they weren’t memories at all but ongoing and permanent delights.

This trip is particularly difficult to distance myself from. Because for many years now, when life has felt like just a little (or a lot) too much for me, I’ve dreamt of throwing it all in and moving to Europe to take up residence in some obscure town in the middle of nowhere to drink wine and take things at the slower pace that they seem to be renowned for… Ever the fantasy of someone suffering from that all-too-typical Australian middle class white person affliction - Cultural Cringe.

The thing is, I’m effectively the opposite of a homebody - more a restless soul. So much so that when we had some beautiful illustrations commissioned as a wedding present, while Marcus’ spiritual home that he wanted to immortalise on paper was his beloved family farm (and our soon-to-be-home), my equivalent was a non-descript town of my own imagining, somewhere in Europe…

This trip was an opportunity to test this speculative eventuality, with 3 and a half weeks in the south of Italy. The occasion was actually a family celebration for my Mum’s 60th - so we were an extended McPherson party for most of the trip. The last time we travelled all together was our African Safari holiday five years ago. And given we’re now all living in different towns / cities / countries, that trip did seem very long ago indeed…

Sicily

We started our adventure in very southern Sicily - a tiny little town called Sant’Alfio, nestled at the foot of Mount Etna. This tiny town is connected to other tiny towns by narrow winding roads that all seem to run back on each other as they curl around the mountain. As the crow flies nothing is far to get to, but winding roads and hilly landscapes meant a decent drive to the major towns of Catania and Taormina. It also meant our daily walk to the coffee shop in the town’s tiny piazza was more what I’d call a hike - downhill and then back uphill, with some serious inclines and cobbled stones. With such gorgeous sights to see on the trek, and some strong italian coffee waiting though, this became the best part of each day during our stay.

We stayed at a beautiful villa sitting in the hills. As gorgeous as it was, the best part about it was leaving to snake around the winding roads to adjacent towns - and especially to sample the produce and wine dell’Etna is known for. As a sadly misguided consequence of this, I hardly took any photos of Sant’Alfio, except on my phone. Oddly, this format seems to suit the little vignettes of Sicilian life we encountered every day.

When we did venture out, we found more gorgeous little streets in a delightful combination of tradition and modernity, and plenty of colour and movement. Our first trip was to Catania - the second biggest city on the island, after Palermo, a more tourist friendly city on the north coast, a fact that is apparently the cause of some tension to locals - similar, I imagine, to the Melbourne / Sydney rivalry. Catania remains the commercial centre of Sicily though, with a mix of low-fi traditions that are exactly what I imagine when I think of Sicily, and modern day economic activity (even if they do seem slightly behind the times by our standards - I’ve never seen so many tiny shops for printing in one place).

Architecturally it is spectacular - if feeling a little worn. And everything has the strange sense that it is exactly where it belongs that can only come from having been in that precise spot for a long, long time. Life in Catania seems to work in perfect unison with the buildings, streets and social spaces that house it. Things seem to happen so well at street level - a sure sign that the city came to be in an era when people were the primary design consideration, well before cars and commerce were shifted up the priority list.

Catania

The iconic fish market in the centre of town doesn’t just sell fish. We snapped up beautiful fresh produce, Italian (specifically Sicilian - as we were often told) charcuterie, cheese, and fresh and preserved fish that just looked so glossy and shiny that it almost looked too good to be true.

Castelmola and Taormina

Next on our Sicily itinerary was Taormina, and the ancient castle at Castelmola, just close by. After driving up and down the mountain many times (!!!) we finally figured out that we needed to catch the cablecar up from the coast to reach this beautiful spot. Medieval towns sure were not designed to accommodate street parking.

Castelmola is perched on the mountain top, with views across to Etna and down to the water. Though there isn’t too much left to show for the building itself these days, the views back down over the country side were spectacular and the quintessential bougainvillea bushes make it ideal for happy snaps.

Taormina is very tourist friendly - ticking all the “sicilian” boxes and walking very close to the kitsch line, but with lovely boutiques and quite special restaurants (and not just trattorias and pizzerias). The picturesque cobbled streets and buildings, the beautiful piazzas…

Photo by Gretta.

The waves of migration and occupation - from the Greeks, Romans, Byzantine, French - for thousands of years mean the town is comprised of layers upon layers of tradition, which is encapsulated by the ancient theatre - originally built in the Greek style, but eventually covered over to capture the Roman style. It is still in pretty incredible shape and hosts operas (we just missed the season) and performances. Unfortunately the short time we spent exploring it coincided with what was apparently the most incredible downpour of rain our guide had ever seen. Still pretty spectacular though, especially when you consider most of the rock used to build it came from the surrounding mountains in probably the third century BC.

So with the rain, our time in Taormina was almost the only less than perfect day we had all trip. As the heavens opened and the hoards of tourists readily purchased the ponchos and umbrellas on offer from opportunistic street vendors at inflated prices, we found ourselves a place to huddle undercover (beers, wines, snacks, etc - shame about the smokers). Despite the weather related hiccup, Taormina was good to us, with some beautiful scenery and exceptional food. Plus a few items from the boutiques…

When we weren’t visiting quaint little towns, we were availing ourselves of iconic sicilian wares (let’s be honest, mostly wine). We visited quite a few agrotourismo spots to sample honey, wine and other local delicacies, and I was blown away by their sense of ritual, heritage and terroir.

The most special was Benanti’s stunning winery, which housed a palmento - a pressing basin traditionally used in wine making. The thing was so cool - a whole big room / shed designed for the once very manual processes of extracting, pressing, fermenting. The setting was pretty stunning, but the best part was the food and wine, obviously.

Unexpected added bonus - Sascha used her legendary cheating tendencies (without our endorsement or cooperation) to score a bottle of prosecco! We may not have enabled it, but we were happy to share in the spoils!

While we were in Sicily we also visited a few seaside towns where we (again) found beautiful food and wine. Outside of the city we had to look a bit harder for it, but when we did track down a gem we were not disappointed.

Oddly it was here more than in the cities that the economic situation in the south of Italy felt really evident. If you’re keeping an eye on Italian politics at all (which is an absolute circus) you’ll know that many of the populist issues facing the country come from tension between the more affluent northern regions and a push for their secession from the rest of the country which is much poorer, but apparently also culturally more laid back (aka lazy, from the perspective of the northerners). The whole country is not in a good place economically really, and we definitely saw glimpses of this in Sicily, despite the beautiful buildings and masses of tradition and heritage.

The final day of our time in Sicily was also my birthday. We spent the day wandering up and down the peak of Mount Etna. And truly it is spectacular - alien and other worldly - the black volcanic soil tipped with snow.

We were reminded often (especially in the context of conversations about wine and food) how much the region owes to The Etna or dell’Etna. It feels kind of like it ominously hovers above the mortals below it, constantly active and permanently threatening to erupt at any moment. The Sicilians have cleverly figured out how to live in happy co-existence with this - appreciating the mountain for the beautiful soils and the food and wine it can produce.

The week after we left the mountain started misbehaving. Hard to believe we were wandering around up there with barely a care…

Sicily Recommendations

• The best part of every day when we were in Sicily was our wander down to the piazza duomo of our tiny little town for espressos (80c) and maybe a breakfast snack (1€). Given most locals would have their espresso and get on with their day, they didn’t quite know what to make of us just sitting down to have our coffee and a chat. The Italians may have started coffee culture in Melbourne, but we’ve definitely improved on it. Although perhaps if we were quicker about it there’d be less need for a takeaway coffee… (Ok, maybe we haven’t improved on it.)

• Quattro Archi in Milo - a great example of sicilian slow food. Beautiful seasonal food, abundant produce, and lots of locals as a testament to the quality of the food and the authentic surrounds.

• Benanti Winery in Viagrande - a good pick if you want to see a palmento which is hundreds of years old, eat a beautiful multi-course lunch and sample a heap of stunning local wines. Benanti are certainly at the top of the list.

• Glass in Riposto - we loved this hidden treasure. Amazing tapas style food, lots of specialist local wines, and a great set up.

• Kisté in Taormina - the sister restaurant of the Michelin starred La Capinera which was really special for a degustation with lovely wines.

• Chiara from The Thinking Traveller was exceptional - recommending some great experiences and managing bookings, times, etc for us. Well worth tapping into the local knowledge of an expert - especially if you’re keen to go a bit off the beaten track.

Amalfi Coast

Our week in Positano was actually a bit ridiculous. We stayed in the most amazing villa with the most gorgeous views you’d ever want to see. The thing we had to get the hang of pretty quickly (ie, when we arrived at 11 pm) is that to get the views you have to make the climb - in this case 100 steps up to our villa. Tricky with a massive suitcase (a lesson to pack less for every trip we ever take in the future) and especially if you take a wrong turn.... But holy hell it is impressive when you get up there.

And plus - more steps = more pasta!

Our terrace overlooked Positano’s iconic tiled duomo, with views beyond of the gorgeous houses seemingly stacked on top of each other… The perfect spot for a communal meal of salad, pasta and proscuitto. Or stacks of aperol spritz and local wine.

Positano was instantly very different to our experience in Sant’Alfio. When we toddled to the beach, we paid tourist prices for our coffee (5€) which came with an opportunity to watch all the instagram “influencers” taking their perfectly posed and styled photos. They needn’t have bothered with all the effort because it is almost impossible to take a bad photo in Positano. Those terraced houses… That colour… Those beach-side bars… That filtered light…

Our days were mostly filled with wandering the shops (plenty of linen, leather sandals, ceramics and limoncello to be had), discovering unexpectedly beautiful pockets in the winding back streets, afternoon drinks on the beach, and spectacular dinners at many of the towns restaurants. Being a tourist in a tourist town is such a funny thing. I was so conscious that the town is engineered for this kind of leisurely indulgence, but that this is not at all reflective of the lifestyle of the locals who all seem to be working busily to give us a seamless travel experience. Once again, I cursed myself for not having come better prepared with more of the local language under my belt (especially beautiful italian) - but in such a tourist friendly environment it was rare to meet someone without lovely (and endearingly accented) english.

The path of the gods

When we weren’t imbibing either coffee or alcohol, we were off adventuring along the coast. The iconic Path of the Gods was an incredible half day hike from Bomerano through the beautiful scenic terraced paddocks, dotted with vines, houses and cobbled walls. The walk was gently undulating, with pockets of green shelter giving way to expansive views of the countryside. The ocean beyond meant breathtaking views at every turn.

A vital lesson learned though - the 1000-odd step walk back downhill should not be taken at a run, or you risk some seriously sore calves for at least a week, which can be a struggle when the whole town is made of stairs built on stairs.

Capri

Capri is a beautiful little island in the Tyrrhenian Sea, just off the coast from Positano. We walked from the port up to Capri, the island’s central town which has a handful of winding streets filled with beautiful high end boutiques, expensive restaurants and gelati shops. It definitely feels more like a resort than an island. It is beautiful - picture perfect - and chockers with wealthy tourists (many of whom seemed to be American, and stopping over on a cruise).

A half day on the island of Capri was enough to reinforce why the Mediterraneans are so healthy and seemingly content despite their love affair with the pizza, pasta and bread we’re petrified of in the west - and their affection for plenty of drinking. We saw older locals hiking up the hill in the heat at a very respectable steady pace, while tourists wilted from the warmth and exertion. They greeted their neighbours politely and went about their business, navigating the tourist hoards deftly and patiently. We saw quite a few propped up appreciating the view at particular vantage points - and what a view!

The second half of our day trip to Capri was a ride around the island on a luxury boat. We visited the Blue Grotto (which was cool, but a total tourist sausage factory), swam in secret caves, looked at prehistoric rock formations, and generally behaved like toffs.

RAVELLO

The beautiful town of Ravello was our final day trip destination during our stay in Positano. Once the playground of the rich and famous, there are beautiful estates, gardens, views, and a tradition of art and music that seems kind of surprising to me - given it is a coastal town tucked away on the side of a cliff… But you forget that these guys have been doing it for thousands of years.

We wandered the grounds of Villa Rufolo, which was built in the 13th Century and refurbished far more recently. The beautiful grounds and gardens (not to mention the views back over the coast) were spectacular. It is kind of hard for Australians to get our tiny minds around how old some of these buildings are, and the fact that the engineering that created these very permanent structures was sound enough for them to endure all these years later. It really makes me think about how we conceptualise our past. When the vast majority of our history in Australia was without these kinds of permanent structures, what does it say about us that we have a hard time coming to terms with it? How do we get better at this if the way we think about heritage in the west is so strongly linked to physical, long term reminders of what came before us… That said - when the landscape is such a big factor in how you construct these permanent structures, you can’t help but consider it too… (And we haven’t even made it to Rome yet!)

AMALFI COAST RECOMMENDATIONS

• Definitely worth spending a day to hike the Path of the Gods. If you’re game you can do the walk there and back (probably the best part of a day if you want to take the time to enjoy it), or take a bus or taxi to Bomerano to start the walk back from there. The walk from the bottom of the stairs back into Positano is still a little bit of a wander, so don’t do anything like silly like running down the stairs which might risk blisters and / or sore legs.

• Late afternoon on the beach in Positano was just so lovely. The perfect time for a cheeky drink and a pizza at Ocean Bar.

• We ate at some really lovely dinner spots in Positano. Next2, Da Vincenzo and Ristorante Max were our highlights, and as a general rule the seafood was the winner. The only place we went that we really didn’t rate was La Tagliata. Cheesy and touristy IMO, but I know many other people who have enjoyed it.

• Babel wine bar and gallery in Ravello was super lovely.

• Casa E Bottega - a beautiful little cafe and boutique in Positano with homewares, glassware and ceramics. I think we particularly appreciated their breakfasts after a couple of weeks away (eggs and avocado for the win).

• Elisir Di Positano Cafe - It might not look like much (don’t let the resident cat throw you off) but his place sells the best calamari fritti ever. According to Andrew it is the best thing to be put in a cone since gelati.

ROME

We had some slight confusion in our scheduling which meant that rather than visiting a few other spots in Italy (including travelling north) we ended up sneaking in a 4 day visit to Paris instead. Perhaps the topic of another blog post.

We stayed in the PERFECT spot for a short visit to Rome. Just outside Trastevere and close enough that everywhere was walkable - with the most incredible views of the city at every turn. We also got SUPER lucky in that friends of friends are living in Rome and gave us an amazing list of great places to eat / drink / see organised by category and location, plus we got to hang out with them at some of their favourite local spots. We had absolutely sensational weather. Couldn’t have asked for more for our first visit (except maybe some more italian under our belts).

Mostly we wandered around Testaccio and Trastevere, with a day at The Vatican to see St Peter’s Basilica, the Sistine Chapel, etc. We ate ridiculously well, we looked at ancient things, gardens, churches… We fawned over the beautiful fresh produce, we ate gelati, we drank espresso, we drank italian beers and italian wines - we’ve got the italian thing nailed really, especially where food is concerned. I think Rome really suited us. We could settle in quite nicely here.

ROME RECOMMENDATIONS

• Angelina Testaccio - gorgeous rooftop terrace restaurant. The food was sensational and they custom make cocktails to go with your order, or recommend matched wines with each course. The interiors were also beautiful, with a collection of vintage and contemporary furnishings which felt perfect for the location.

• Masto - unbelievable bar for charcuterie, fresh local produce and incredible wine. The owners really care about the quality of their produce and recommend items and dishes depending on what you like. We also bought some incredible local wines here, which are from the very best in the region lists.

• Tram Depot - a quirky little bar in a park. Great for a stop off for an aperitivo before dinner. Great cocktails or beers. Tables or bench seats for a casual drink. A really great mix of demographics, ages, nationalities all hanging out together in a really informal setting.

• L’Oasi della Birra - amazing tiny little shop that was jam packed each time we visited. Stacks of local beers, wines, and a selection of eats. Positioned next to a great piazza, so you can buy a bottle and they’ll give you glasses to go and enjoy it sitting in the open while you people watch.

• Panna & Co - the best gelati we had all visit. My favourite was fig. Mmmmmmmmm…

• Testaccio Market - super lovely little market that is like a micro version of Prahran Market. Some absolutely beautiful fresh produce, but also a few little cafes and preprepared food including some incredible pizza by the slice.

• Campagna Amica / Circo Massimo Market - an absolutely delightful find with incredible fresh produce - slow, organic producers - mostly selling fresh produce, but Marcus also had an amazing pork roll.

• Vatican City - definitely worth a day visit, but jam packed with tourists and super slow to get around. Apparently it is quieter in the afternoons (and so is the Colosseum).

I found Rome fascinating in a completely different way than I was anticipating. It is spectacularly beautiful, but not the kind of beautiful we’re used to I think. The thing I fell in love with is the years and layers of history that are not even below the surface - they’re features, and a huge part of the city and its economy. It just seems so at odds with how things work in Australia - where we have so much scope to start from scratch and build from first principles, which has such a huge impact on daily lives of romans. Traditions mean so much more when you’re talking about thousands of years of connection to rituals and ideas. When the ways things are done were cemented decades before there was a technological solution to abbreviate the process, doing things the long way for the sake of tradition means so much more. When these things were embedded at a time when a sense of place and a connection to the land / landscape and community around you were absolutely necessary, you can’t help but have those things still in your mind when you observe these rituals. I found it really easy to conceptualise contemporary Rome as just one moment on the time continuum of what’s come before and what will come after. How can you ignore that sense with so many many years of history so physically evident with every corner you turn and every street you walk down. The idea of throwing out the old to replace it with a newer, shinier version just because it will make your life easy seems kind of mad in this context. History and comfort seem to be held in some kind of precarious balance (or tension). It’s like the perfect amount of necessary friction that brings you into contact with history, and with the others around you, and also with the processes that stop us from unnecessarily overcomplicating (or oversimplifying).

This sense of historical continuity brings so many positives: the city of Rome seems to have been conceived at human scale. Everywhere is walkable, everything is community sized - the piazzas, the cobbled streets and the small shops mean everything is well engineered so that people have a sense of living in a community - with a bunch of things in their immediate locality. They’re close to their neighbours, houses are compact, and there is plenty of civic space to be occupied - everything feels oddly communal, but in a way that still has a sense of privacy. It also feels like there’s a much greater appreciation of quality and permanence, which makes all kinds of sense.

In our visit to the Colosseum, we learned that new technology has recently led to the discovery of more ancient buildings hidden under what is the world’s oldest botanical garden. Apparently there’s a debate raging about whether digging up these gardens can be justified if it means excavating the site to uncover the built structures beneath. This feels like a perfect metaphor for Italy’s current predicament - to what extent do we hold on to what we’ve got when it has been honed from years of history and tradition. Can we let go of the way we’ve always done things to potentially uncover else, and what do we lose if we do so..?

With that in mind, we had some very interesting discussions about where Rome is at right now - which is very much linked to how Italy as a whole is faring. The issues with civic spending and local government (particularly in Rome) have been well documented, and are so clearly problematic (particularly with waste collection, which you can’t ignore). The economy is not going well - and the tension between Italy and the EU (and the EU and several other countries) is an ongoing topic of conversation. Days after we left there were mass demonstrations in Rome to protest management of the city. Given this is our first visit, it is hard to distinguish what is unusual about Rome right now, and what is just how Rome is all the time, but things certainly feel a little unsettled.

We happened upon was a huge Five Star Movement rally happening in the centre of Rome on one day of our visit. The vibe felt more like you might expect of a food festival or a sporting event in Melbourne, and it wasn’t immediately apparent that this was a political rally. There was such a mix of generations, and nothing that gave away their politics (though maybe we just didn’t recognise any telltale signs).

So fascinating, and no way we could get our heads around all of the complexity in just 3 weeks. Super interesting to have spent so much time in the south of the country as Lega Nord (the Northern League) are continuing to demonise the south and kind of normalising their version of right wing populism, anti-EU and anti-migrant policies. I couldn’t quite make sense of how people feel about the Five Star Movement and Lega Nord running the country. But I don’t know how they make sense of the last 30-40 years of politics in Italy at all…

No doubt it will take many years and many return visits to get my head around it. For now, I’ll take some seriously lovely memories with me, and try (as I do every time I return from time away) to borrow the best elements of what they do in Italy for my daily life. Nothing like a holiday to slow things down and get a little perspective…

Cuba

This past July I returned to visit the wonderful sights, smells and spirit of Havana. 

It was the first time I'd travelled on my own for a long time (12+ years), and it made for thoroughly different experience than the last time I visited. Plus, Cuba is a different place than the last time I visited. Or maybe it's more that I'm different...

Habana Vieja

This time I stayed outside Old Havana, but still made the time to wander through. The fact that I was there during peak European Summer, combined with an increase in American tourism made this tourist magnet feel completely different than the last time we visited.

This time, I felt guilty getting my camera out, for the shame of feeling like all the German and American tourists who are here for the pretty colours, vintage cars and cheap rum. Despite the fact that my urge to document this beautiful place came from the same place of wonder and curiosity as the last time I visited, I was putting myself in the same category as those sitting on the roof of the newly instituted double decker bus for a whistle-stop tour of all the major photo spots of Havana. Because, really, who is to say I am all that different from them.

Arriving without a map and of course without internet, it was easier to make my way back to the area we became familiar with on our first trip. But even so, to some degree I judged myself for making a beeline for the familiar streets, where my very rusty spanish poses less of a challenge, and I know how to find my way around. Again, I was eternally grateful for the beautiful public parks and plazas throughout the city, where life happens, and the spaces seem perfectly designed for people watching.

But things didn't feel quite the same. I found it a little unnerving as a solo female traveller to constantly have (mostly male) spruikers trying to hustle me. The ban on advertising in Cuba means signage is minimal and people actively sell to passers by in the tourist hot spots instead. With not much confidence in my spanish, it was hard to shake people off, and it seems like the locals have lifted their hustling game since 3 years ago. Even if they are harmless, the "hola, where you from?" or "hello beautiful" quickly becomes exhausting. Mostly because it is a reminder of how separate we are as travellers from the locals who's home we're borrowing for our leisure time and discretionary spending. Experiencing any place is a completely different proposition when you can throw some money at any inconveniences in urban planning to ease the pain. And it is completely uncomfortable to be constantly reminded that your privileged whiteness means you're essentially someone's meal ticket. But I guess regardless of how much you love or hate a place, at least you can leave at the end of the trip. This is a particularly strange thing to have in mind when locals will likely never leave their whole lives...

Old Havana is beautiful, there's no denying it. The mix of old architectural wealth and unavoidable ruin looks as though it has been put there for perfect contrast and contradiction. But the number of (let's be honest, mostly women) tourists I saw waltzing through the city in perfectly styled "Caribbean flavoured" outfits for the benefit of their Instagram feed was a shock this trip... And the number of local women I saw in "old-style" Cuban costumes for the sake of a 5 CUC photo op for the benefit of a tourist Instagram feed wasn't something I remembered from last visit either... Honestly, it makes me feel a little ill to think of us white people treating these people and their home as a backdrop for our personal branding. But again, who is to say I'm any different...

It feels oh, so, strange to realise that the vast majority of "restoration" throughout this pocket of Havana is in areas that few locals (beyond those working in tourism) see on a daily basis - while the residential areas of the city mostly haven't had the same treatment. Homes of locals come with no guarantee of hot water. It is also perverse to realise that in a very well educated country, where the state regulated income is only 17 CUC a month (equivalent to approximately US$20), the smartest people (especially those with some english under their belts) turn to tourism for some supplementary income. In a country with world class doctors, teachers, and other highly skilled professionals, taxi drivers are the ones earning good money.

Once again, I was annoyed at myself for not having put more work into my spanish before I left, because I know this would have made it so much easier to get under the skin of this magical city. It really is the epitome of white arrogance to expect people in your destination country to speak english, but yet that's the exact situation I was in. I remember feeling in Vietnam that much of what I was seeing was perfectly constructed for the white tourist, and Old Havana felt more like that this visit - or perhaps I was just more aware this time around. I know enough to know that a lot of the great hospitality available to tourists isn't available to locals - at least not on a local salary... To say nothing of the architecturally beautiful but entirely inappropriate luxury mall right in the middle of Old Havana.

Centro Habana

Centro Habana instantly feels more like the Havana the locals know. Its like as soon as you cross the threshold away from the grand hotels you're able to see Havana life at street level rather than a constructed approximation of Havana life. We saw so many groups of young people gathered - and not for the benefit of the tourist hoards. It feels quieter, and like life is lived more at the pace that suits cubans.

Sunset by El Malécon

You could be forgiven for thinking that the Cuban night life happens in the bars and paladares of Old Havana, and this may well be true. But it looked to me like the night life of the locals happens along the water - with dancing, pop up street food, cheeky drinks and socialising happening as the sun sets behind...

Vedado

I stayed in a private home just off the main streets of Vedado. My host was incredible, and persisted with me despite my broken Spanish and her limited English. I'm amazed by how these people open their modest homes to (mostly) rich westerners, giving them the best of what they've got, and never complaining that they've found themselves in a life of servitude purely by circumstance.

Walking anywhere was busy with locals, but the kinds of locals who were happy to let you mind your own business, rather than those who wanted to sell you something. Wandering through Vedado I was constantly mystified by how locals knew what was sold at each shop or restaurant, with minimal signage but often long queues - particularly at the places selling "helados" in the very humid summer weather - at all times of the day or night, or the spots for fresh crusty bread in the morning.

The caribbean colour and the gentle discolouration of the buildings mean that texture and personality are in abundance, but it is in the people that you see this absolutely overflowing. Even after all these years, I can't bring myself to photograph people like they're displays in a shop window, so I avoid doing this, but the cuban people are so friendly, respectful, and joyful that you definitely take a little bit of this attitude away with you when you leave...

Viñales and the Pinar Valley

I was so pleased that I managed to fit in a day trip to Viñales this visit, complete with vintage taxi and the suspension to match. My driver was lovely, but had limited English, so it made for an interesting adventure with no doubt a great deal lost in translation. 

The highlight though was something I'd heard much about - no doubt constructed perfectly for tourist spending, but still managing to feel like a peek into Cuba's complex history - and present. I was lucky enough to visit a local who hand rolled cigars, showed me where they dried their tobacco and their home grown coffee, and assumed I understood his Spanish explanations for the processes involved. He told me he had begun smoking cigars at 16 and had smoked 10 a day for 60 years. He was wearing a t-shirt which read "Actually I'm in Havana". I want to be him forever.

Viñales is ridiculously beautiful. I was surprised how big the tourism obviously is in the area, with guest houses a plenty - all painted a riot of Caribbean colours. I guess that's the benefit of being only 2 or so hours drive from Havana. But it seems they've managed to keep the World Heritage farming region happily coexisting with the influx of visitors, complete with horse-and-carriages often competing for road space with the vintage corvettes and bikes.

I left feeling a little conflicted by this trip to Cuba. I still feel disappointed in myself that after 2 trips I've hardly managed to scratch the surface of this mysterious place. I'm disappointed because I know it will be unlikely that I can return again soon, and I know the place is likely to be very much a different place next time I visit - although perhaps people were saying that in the 80s and 90s...

More than anything I think I still feel conflicted about life in Cuba. I know life would likely be a lot more comfortable for Cubans should a free market system be allowed to flourish in this long protected economy. And I know many Cubans very much want to be allowed access to the opportunities for wealth building that seem to come with being more active participants in the global marketplace. But I still feel strange about the fact that most of their opportunities are likely to come in the shape of tourism. And then it becomes yet another country curated for the benefit of wealthy westerners...

But as as global capitalism seems to be unravelling at an ever increasing rate, I still think there are a great number of things that Cuba has right that the rest of the world simply doesn't. As an outsider looking in, the social, family and community lives of Cubans seem enviable. Their wellbeing seems to have benefitted from far less of a presence of the "digital universe" and I definitely felt calmer after 5 days without "promotional messages" interrupting the public space I moved through. Cuba is renowned for it's health care and education systems, but there's no denying there are fewer opportunities for young people to "forge their own path". For me, there really seems a lot of sense to socialism - even if it means less of a sense of individual freedom. Even though it is an inaccurate representation - if the two poles we have to choose from are the US, where on paper, complete personal freedom is the ultimate goal, but the collateral damage for many are any sense of equality, community and quality of life - and Cuba, where a sense of community, shared endeavour and curbed freedom are daily reality, I think I know what I'd choose. But that's easy enough for me to say after 5 days visiting, from many hundreds of miles away, sitting on my comfy couch while typing on my internet enabled laptop.

I really do believe Cubans have a right to self determine, and it seems undeniable that their "democratic" system isn't necessarily enabling that at the moment. But I don't know that the American ideal they've been kept away from for 60 years is as great for them as they might have been led to believe. The sweets you've been told you're not allowed to have are rarely good for you.

Cuba is far too complex a place for me to get my head around in 2 visits totalling 10 days. I think this place will continue to mystify me for many years to come... And no doubt I will continue to think of it as my spiritual home, long after their political ideology I naively idealise has been consumed into the global mess.

FURTHER READING

• How Havana has changed with Wifi - Alice Driver for Citylab

• New Mall in Socialist Cuba - The Guardian

• Only governments can stem the tide of tourism - Elizabeth Becker for The Guardian

• Cuban tourists keeping food of locals' plates - Azam Ahmed for NYT

• The Cuba tourists never see - Matt WIlson for The Guardian

• Cuba is poor, but who's to blame - Helen Yaffe for The Conversation

• Social care in Cuba - Castro's legacy - Sam Jones for The Guardian

• Stale bread with ham and rum - Alice Driver for Vice

• Cuba for Sale - Oliver Wainwright for The Guardian

• One family, myriad views of Castro's revolution - Damien Cave for NYT

• Talented Cuban photographer and clever local for an insider's look - Mari Daniella

• Havana: A Subtropical Delirium - Mark Kurlansky - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

California

This September my husband and I spent a couple of weeks in California. We were there for the wedding of a very dear friend, but we also made the most of the trip to explore San Francisco and Yosemite. So predictably, this whirlwind trip was mostly about photographing murals (SF) and nature (everywhere else). When in Cali...

For the most part San Francisco is a rather lovely city with a really exceptional history - many waves of immigration brought on by various booms and busts (gold rush, tech rush, etc), geographical and natural disasters (fires and earthquakes), the emergence of social movements (gay rights and the hippies of the summer of love), and a generally quite liberal outlook. But as is happening in what seems like every major city right now, gentrification seems to be accelerating well past the normal rate of "change" and hurtling headlong toward alienating, marginalising and / or hiding those who can't keep up. If we were on a different kind of trip, I would have liked to have focused my "getting to know the city" activities on understanding the housing crisis there (the housing minister quit while we were there because she could no longer afford to live in SF herself), and interviewing some of the folks affected by it. And it seems there are many. The downsides to the tech boom..

Speaking of which - there was a major tech conference on (which added an extra 70,000 heads to the already difficult hunt for beds) making it a very expensive stay. Thank god we missed Salesforce's major event by two weeks. It apparently adds an approximate 170,000 people to the city, and they bring in cruise ships to add temporary accommodation capacity to the city.

We got our tourist on. We ate our hearts out and made up for it by riding the hills of SF. We were again disappointed by American coffee and lack of breakfast game. We were again impressed by their ridiculous burgers and exceptionally good martinis. We tried to get a sense of the city without getting cynical about the impact of the tech industry. Not sure if we succeeded there.

Be dangerous, It's careful out there...

We made our way to wedding adventures via a quick stop at Muir Woods. The experience of staring up at these Redwood and Sequoia trees was brief and calming. Nothing like a wander through a forest of hundreds-of-years-old trees to help you get some perspective...

The wedding itself was lovely and picturesque. It was such a pleasure to spend time with a great bunch of people from all over the world - most of whom I hadn't previously met because they're friends my global traveller friend has gathered from all across the globe. I will say that it's nice to know that good people find each other wherever they are. But I'll leave all that because it isn't my (love) story to tell. And because I have no doubt there will be far better photos than mine...

Our final stop was a few days of nature in Yosemite. After 3 hours of driving on the wrong side of the road, we arrived unscathed and ready to relax. Exploring Yosemite National Park was spectacular. There were cars and people everywhere so it was hard to find any kind of stillness for a moment to truly appreciate the landscape but it is truly awe inspiring. Like everything in the US, everything seems bigger.

The biggest thing I learnt from this trip to remind myself just how good we have it in Australia.

Driving through California, I was genuinely stunned to see so many Trump signs in front yards. Isn't California supposed to be quite politically progressive? But when you stop to look, is it really so surprising? I found it so depressing to drive from place to place and see only multiplexes (complete with budget supermarkets and fast food restaurants) as the cultural landmarks. I found it so interesting to see what happens when cars are a a key causal factor in urban, suburban and rural design. It doesn't leave a lot of room for organic social touch points or serendipitous moments of connection with others. I wasn't entirely surprised to see a burger joint functioning as a kind of surrogate community centre. It doesn't seem to be a unique phenomenon across the country.

And Australia seems to be evolving in the same way. I remember reading Denniss and Hamilton's Affluenza many years back which essentially articulates that the more a country is like America the worse it fares in life satisfaction indicators. Surely the US is more a case study in what not to do? Yet why do we seem so keen to follow in their footsteps...?

So while I'm happy to visit, but America just feels like a less good version of Australia, and therefore doesn't make much sense to me. I'll have to satisfy myself with marvelling at their astounding natural landscape, and remind myself to do more of the same back in my own country.

Touristing

Marcus and I took ourselves on a little mid-Winter adventure in June, timed to coincide with the football season break (of course). To Vietnam - a destination we arrived at by a process of elimination. Not too far to fly, not too expensive, not to far from beaches. It wasn't particularly high on either of our travel hit lists, but it checked the boxes.

It was a quick visit - a whistle stop tour from the top to the bottom of the country, hitting up the major destinations of Hanoi (with a quick interlude out to Halong Bay), Hoi An (with plenty of beach time), and Saigon (with a day trip out to the Mekong Delta) - all in just 10 days (which is just long enough to defrost from the Central Victorian winter, incidentally). Classic tourist stuff.

Distracted by the daily rhythm, I kind of forgot we were going on holiday until just a couple of days prior to departure. It was a bit of a strange experience - completely different to how I would normally approach a trip - with planning and research and language study. (NERD.) We had nothing more to go on than what we knew by travel folklore, a lonely planet we swiped (temporarily) from the local pub, and a post it note of recommendations from some friends who had recently returned.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I don't feel like we really got under the skin of the place. Our lacklustre pre-trip planning meant getting comfortable with feeling like tourists. (Travelling with giant bearded white man also amplified that sense...) The tropical weather also meant getting comfortable with the eternal need to wipe sweat from your face. It was like two white people in a 10 day Bikram class.

It felt like the Vietnamese don't particularly love Westerners (which, by the way, is entirely understandable - especially given the history), but it felt very evident that parts of the country are very much engineered for the benefit of white tourist dollars. 

One thing is for sure - the food didn't disappoint. We were already well aware how lucky we are to have the Melbourne Vietnamese community at our door step. But we now know that even Melbourne's Vietnamese food is no match for the real stuff. So. Good.

Best. Pho. Ever. Pho 10 in Hanoi's Old Town.

Took a bit to get my head around eating noodles for breakfast. On the street. From a kids picnic table.

Accidentally ate our first Vietnamese Banh Mi from what is apparently THE BEST Banh Mi in Vietnam according to Anthony Bordain. It was good.

Vietnamese BBQ.

Wonton Pizza - with pumpkin and pineapple. Surprisingly delicious.

Com ga. Accompanied by corn milk. Not so sure on the corn milk.

Hen Xao - tiny baby mussels and peanut-y delicious goodness.

So all in all, a bit of a funny trip. It was a nice holiday, but it felt like just that - a holiday, rather than anything close to an immersive adventure. Perhaps we had glimpses of local life, but even then, it felt like an approximation constructed for the benefit of tourists. I left feeling a little bit disappointed (in myself) that a visit to a country with such a colourful, contentious history felt like not much more than a tropical beach holiday. Complete with sunburn and serious bout of food poisoning. The thing is, I don't know that more proactive planning would have changed that?

I will say this though - it's not too bad for photos. There sure is a lot of colour to play with! (I am clearly a little out of practice though...)

Cruising around Halong Bay.

Pearl farming...

Sung Sot Cave. Lots of colour.

Hanoi Old Town.

Tropical colour in Hoi An.

Perfect mix of old and new / east and west. Too hot and rainy.

Just after the downpour...

Tips:

Airbnb was a big winner in Vietnam. We loved all of our three mini-hotels. I'd highly recommend it if you're planning a Vietnam trip.

We did a few food-related activities with the good people from Urban Adventures Vietnam. Even for experience travellers, I'd recommend it early on in your time in a new city as a way to drill a local for good recommendations, context, history - and excellent food! Highly recommended, particularly if you're keen to go beyond vietnamese coffee, pho and spring rolls. These guys do a great street food tour.

The cities are very much engineered for motorbikes and scooters. We found it difficult to walk around in Hanoi and Saigon, and we were very grateful for our villa-supplied bikes in Hoi An - so if you're game you might like to hire some wheels. 

While Vietnam is still nominally a Communist country, as a traveller you wouldn't necessarily know it - with quite a bit of development, international investment and elements of a thriving market system on display. The set up does seem to still impinge on the freedoms of local people and based on our conversations the appeal of a centralised economy has all but worn off for most Vietnamese, though they may not speak of it openly. 

There's so much more to Vietnamese history and culture than the War. Hundreds of years of feudalism and dynastic rule. Colonial disputes between the Chinese, French and Japanese. Ideologically fuelled wars and political coups. Many culturally diverse tribal groups. Not to mention the consequent religious diversity. Even still, we found it quite difficult to get to the bottom of it all beyond the touristy stuff. Ideally, do a bit of reading before you go, and make the most of the people you meet along the way to dig a little deeper.

If you do fancy finding out a bit about it the last days of the Vietnam War, read Viet Tranh Nguyen's Pulitzer Prize winning The Sympathiser. (Read this glowing NY Times review.) And listen to his chat with NPR Fresh Air's Terry Gross.

So what do you think? Do we put our trip experience down to being lazy and inexperienced Asian travellers? Or did you have a similar experience in Vietnam? Or should I just be satisfied with a bit of beach time and be done with it? Thoughts? Feels? Opinions? (As always, play nice.)

Barossa

This past weekend was spent in the Barossa - the perfect opportunity to test out my highly underdeveloped landscape photography skills in time for something to be submitted as part of my first semester folio. 8 weeks to go...

These photos prove a few things:

• Our teacher Scott was right when he said "Your work will get worse before it gets better".

• If in doubt, give it the Instagram treatment - high contrast and saturation. It can make very average photos look decent-ish.

• Photography and an abundance of Shiraz are not really a happy combination...

• The Barossa is quite beautiful, even if I can't do it justice here.

• You should share your work anyway. Sharing is caring.

Wandering

Marcus and I took ourselves on a holiday this past October. 

Melbourne > Boston > NYC > Washington DC > Toronto > Montreal > Havana > Melbourne

It was so great. Some photos:

The historic Harvard Quad awash with Autumn colour.

Lots of quality time in the parks throughout Boston.

The Jimmy Rooftop in NYC - the most spectacular views of the city at dusk, complete with gorgeous drinks.

Over the Brooklyn Bridge on an overcast Columbus Day.

Park Slope in full colour.

More colour in DC.

Our time in the US was really quite lovely. We were so lucky to reconnect with quite a few wonderful friends living in NYC, and after a few days I thought I could really see myself living there and taking in everything the city has to offer. Thanks to a long list of recommendations from friends we had an impressive hit list of things to see and do, but in the end what we mostly spent our time doing was just wandering and people watching, particularly in NYC. There are no lack of things to see and do on the streets. I do feel a bit bad that we didn't get to any of the museums and galleries I had on my list, but there's always next time.

I had an interesting conversation with our dear friend Kath about the subtle differences in attitude between Americans and Australians. The comment that stands out is her observation that in Australia, our  behaviour is regulated (and particularly when it puts others at risk), but in the US opinions and morals are regulated, and behaviour is of less concern. It's like you're free to do whatever you like in the US, and please or upset whoever along the way, as long as it is coming from a place of self righteousness. For us, no one cares about your morals as long as you're not creating unintended negative outcomes. Such a subtle difference in attitude to personal responsibility. It was interesting to observe this nuance in so many instances - work, public liability, alcohol consumption. I wonder if it has something to do with the differences in the way our two countries were founded. 

This was my first trip to the US and in NYC I had quite a few moments of feeling like no photo I could take would be original, no observation I would make would be unique, and a perpetual feeling of "oh, that famous place that I've seen in every tv show". It's a strange feeling - and meant I hardly took any photos! But there's also something to be said for being in a city where even the smallest underground ideas are happening on a global scale - NYC really is the world's creative hub.

I could not stop gaping at the trees in Canada. Perfect time of year for it.

Cottage Country - Muskoka in the Lakes District.

St Joseph's Oratory in the suburban streets of Montreal.

Toronto's answer to the Yarra Valley.

Canada was pretty special - very postcard picture perfect with Fall leaves in full colour everywhere we went. We got the full Canadian treatment with a visit to Cottage Country, winery tours, a night at the museum. Pretty spectacular. We even walked home on Halloween with the snow falling around us...

And what's better than spending a couple of weeks with your best friend - the hostess with the most-ess - in her home town?! Wish it wasn't quite so far away...

I totally fell in love with the craziness that is Montreal. While Toronto feels very much like Melbourne, Montreal feels like a confused European country - although you can totally understand how that would happen. The language politics are a mess of imperialistic sensitivity, french arrogance and some kind of cultural paranoia - and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I totally understand why the tension between the english and french speakers exists, and ultimately I feel like it creates a pretty fascinating dynamic. All of that said, the city still feels like a bit of a work in progress. I was really nice to get my french out again after far too long in storage. I loved it!

Old Havana.

Cuba was a crazy, complicated, illogical dream. It was so full of colour and movement and such good people.

Knowing a bit about the history was barely enough - the years of african slavery and occupation, independence wars, and of course the Revolution have created a layered mess of contradictions that I still haven't really been able to get my head around.

The country was once incredibly rich, and incredibly corrupt thanks to an abundance of sugar and tobacco and a US backed dictator. International trade has almost come to a complete halt thanks to trade sanctions from the US that have been in place for 50 years. This means that Havana is a sight to behold, with beautiful boulevards that could just as easily belong in Paris or Madrid, mixed in with cobbled together streets that look more like Rwanda. The new part of town has barely been touched since the Revolution, and some parts are falling down more than others. Some of the key parts of Old Havana have enjoyed restoration recently - and it is seriously impressive.

Everywhere you turn you see celebrations of the Revolution, and shrines to Fidel, Raul and Che, as well as Independence catalyst Jose Marti, but just under the surface it's quite easy to see that Fidel's Marxist / Leninist regime has created it's fair share of problems.  We had some intriguing conversations with some really clever people (over cigars, naturally), and they echoed our feeling that things were certainly bubbling away. Despite that, there is such a sense of pride for their city, their country and their way of doing things.

Where once the Revolution was revered by the people for the positive changes it created (agrarian reform, impressive literacy and education efforts, greatly reduced rural poverty), the positives have slowly become outnumbered by the negatives. Conveniently though, it is hard to tell which of the negatives are as a result of the government, and which are due to the US trade embargo. Their once abundant rations are now very sparse, and basic supplies are almost impossible to get unless they come from Russia or are grown at home. 

What's clear though, is that most Cubans see through the propaganda and recognise that the regime as it stands is on it's last legs. While Fidel is apparently convalescing, his brother Raul has been slowly and slightly relaxing some of the most restrictive limitations on private enterprise, and many people acknowledge a change in attitude is inevitable with Obama in the Oval Office.

I must say though, I think in many ways it would be a real shame. There's so much good stuff, and I can't help but feel that a lot of it could be lost if money flooded in all of a sudden. I feel like it would be a real shame to see this country change its ways for the sake of American tourism and earning a buck. Despite the fact they don't have much, people are so generous and so proud of what they have. Their small commercial operations are run with heart at the centre. Trade limitations make for some really beautiful things - their gorgeous and painstakingly restored classic cars, a real pride in Cuban tradition, and a real sense that they're all in this together. They're beautiful people - like I've never seen before, and I'll probably never experience again. My tiny left-leaning mind almost exploded faced with the complexity of how things work in reality when we do things differently.

If I were you - I'd get there soon. Who knows what will happen to this magical little island once the US decides they should be friends again.

In the meantime, I highly recommend some pre-viewing:

• The Motorcycle Diaries - a feature film starring Gael Garcia Bernal exploring Che Guevara's adventure through South America, which was the foundation of much of his philosophical and political thinking.

• The Buena Vista Social Club - a beautiful film about the rediscovery and reconnection of many of the legendary musicians of Cuba. Really gorgeous stuff and incredible music if you don't already know it.

• Che - a 2-part film by Steven Soderberg and starring Benicio Del Toro. It looks closely at the unfolding of the Cuban Revolution, and also at Guevara's work in Bolivia where he was eventually assassinated.

(EDIT: It was announced today that the US are resuming diplomatic contact with Cuba. Hate to say I told you so.)

Long Weekend

Long drives through rolling green hills as far as the eye can see.
Frosty mornings and a heavy fog, lifting to perfect weather and spectacular sunshine that warms your back as you read the morning papers. 
Exploring quiet country towns that house decades of stories and local legends.
Amazing food and drink. Lamb shank soup, cheese, mulled wine, apple crumble. (Too much.) 
A roaring bonfire, and camp ovens filled to bursting with juicy meat.
Flannel sheets and electric blankets. Ugg boots, scarves, games of cards.
Smiling babies and a slower pace, both bringing a sense of balance, simplicity and perspective.
Silliness, seriousness, and a long-yearned-for connection with old and new friends.

These shots were taken at the Farmhouse Dederang and Gapsted Wines.