JUST like this camel caravan I captured in the Sahara Desert, I’ve been working hard to attract more followers. For the past year, I’ve posted a photo a day on Instagram and recently hit my first 1000 followers. I’ve also posted more than 1000 photos, so that’s at least 1000 reasons to follow me. Here’s a selection of my most popular pics, taken from my global travels over the past six months, and published under my Instagram handle @aglobalgoddess. I’d love to see you over there.
From the desert dust to the brilliant blues of Chefchaouen, Morocco served up a kaleidoscope of colour and charm.
Indonesia’s beautiful Bawah Island gave me the blues, in the best possible way.
Finland’s Lapland was all white and all right.
Back home, the Aussie summer served up its bushfire orange sunsets and aqua beach days.
While on my first trip to Japan last month, it was better to be red, than dead.
Follow me on Instagram @aglobalgoddess
“This year I do not want the dark to leave me. I need its wrap of silent stillness, its cloak of long-lasting embrace. Let the dawns come late, let the sunsets arrive early, let the evenings extend themselves while I lean into the abyss of my being,” Joyce Rupp, Winter’s Cloak
IN summer, we learn to live again. In winter, we learn about ourselves. And the presence of a wild snake on one’s back deck is, arguably, one of life’s great teachers. I used to be scared of snakes, having grown up in country Queensland where scorching summers were punctuated by frequent snake sightings. Red Belly Blacks and King Browns were the order of the day out there, the type of rebellious reptiles that could easily kill a small child. And so I learned to fear those slithering serpents of my youth. But several years ago, when I first spotted a carpet snake on my back deck, I decided to finally face my fear. On the one hand, this was made much easier by the fact it’s a harmless common Eastern Australian carpet python. On the other hand, a snake is still a snake.
Anastasia arrived first, who departed only to be replaced by Sylvia, who grew from a one-metre juvenile in the first year, into a three-metre monster by her third. Too fat to fit back into the ceiling cavity, she departed, only to be replaced by Saskia, who arrived about a year ago. Saskia, like Sylvia, was also slim, but with a ready diet of bush rats and possums right out the back, she too has grown. And now she’s possibly the fattest snake I’ve ever seen. My anaconda girl also measures about three metres long, but sports the beer belly of a Brisbane bogan. Lay off the possums, I want to advise, particularly given I gain great comfort from their roaring thunder along my timber roof late at night. To me, that’s the soundtrack to living in Brisbane, and I love it.
So, what have I learned from my snake this winter? The first lesson is that it’s important to slow down. While my snake is still surprisingly active, even in winter, she moves at a slower pace. She basks on the back deck in the winter sunshine, that I, too crave. Learn to love the softer light, she seems to whisper to me. Take the time to laze. Stretch. Sleep. We need these seasons to rejuvenate. Reflect. Retreat inwards. For in a place like Brisbane, where the summers are long and lusty, it’s too easy to keep running. And run out of steam.
My sassy Saskia has also taught me while it’s important to eat, don’t eat too much. Fuelled by her latest possum catch, and a ridiculously distended belly, she tried and failed many times to return to her ceiling cavity the other afternoon as the sun signalled its early afternoon departure. She crawled and wiggled and pretty much looked like I do every winter when it comes to trying on that first pair of jeans. Eventually, she gave up. And whether she will return is anyone’s guess. I’ve learned to grow OK with that too.
She’s taught me to shed my skin a little. Be vulnerable. And she’s taught me to face my fears. In an ideal world, there would be no wild snakes on my back deck. But history has taught me that not long after one has departed, another one arrives. They are territorial like that. And so, I must embrace this paradigm. Just as winter follows autumn, the seasons will keep on changing. I used to hate winter too. The short days, the cold mornings, being constrained by too many clothes. By nature I’m a summer frock girl who loves being in the water. Those beautiful balmy evenings, bare feet and ice-cold beer. But I’m slowly learning that life is also about embracing the shadow side. Not only in nature, but in myself and others. Instead of rejecting the things I dislike about myself, learning to acknowledge them as a part of a greater sum.
I’m back on the yoga mat this winter, a nourishing alternative when the water is too cold in which to swim, and last week we celebrated the winter solstice in the southern hemisphere. The days are starting to grow longer and pretty soon, they will grow warmer again. But for now, I’m going to relish the words of Joyce Rupp: “Let me lie in the cave of my soul, for too much light blinds me, steals the source of revelation. Let me seek solace in the empty places of winter’s passage, those vast dark nights that never fail to shelter me.” Wherever you are in the world, whatever the season of your soul, I hope you find solace too.
Back on the Bike
THE Pacific Ocean is swooshing into the shore on this sizzling summer afternoon and if I listen carefully, I can almost hear the waves whispering the word Noosa on the outward tide. In local Aboriginal dialect Noosa means “shade” or “shadows” and it’s a fitting descriptor as tourists flock to the pandanus trees lining Noosa Main Beach. From my privileged perch on my balcony of Netanya Noosa Resort, I watch the shadows grow longer and at sunset, Noosa blushes pink, just like the young bride having her photo taken on the beach.
I eat a Eumundi steak I’ve sourced from Netanya’s Providore on Hastings, the only deli around these parts, and which I’ve cooked for myself on my balcony barbecue. A family in wet togs and sporting sun-kissed, salty hair, sits just outside the resort on the grassy knoll and eats pizza, in no rush on this languid Sunday to head back to balmy Brisbane. As for me, for once I have all the time in the world, and in the early evening, I make like the Italians and replicate that lovely tradition of La Passeggiata…the evening promenade through the main street of town. In this case, it’s Hastings Street where I stop for gelati, ordering a single, sugary scoop of chocolate ice cream. I stroll towards the Esplanade, swirling the creamy texture around my tongue, and pausing to dig my feet into the now cool sand.
I’m on my first travel writing assignment for 2017 and I’m relieved it’s in my own backyard of Queensland. After a brief break, I need to find my feet again. Get back on that bike, which is apt as my first task of the year is to undertake a mountain bike tour through Tewantin National Park. When I was asked whether I’d like to do a new cycling tour for several stories I’m writing about Noosa’s natural side, I jumped at the chance, imagining mounting a mint green retro bike and gliding along some beachfront Esplanade. In my fantasy I would be wearing a colourful summer frock and scarf, and the wind would be blowing my hair in precisely the right direction. I laughed when I realised it was a mountain bike tour but it’s something I’m glad I do, in equal parts cursing some aspects of my job in the summer heat and pleased I’m out of my comfort zone, yet again. The next day, I do a five-hour kayak tour through the Noosa Everglades.
In recent years I’ve been out of my comfort zone so many times for work that I feel I almost need to start training for my job. I’m a travel writer, not a stunt woman, I want to scream some days, secretly pleased I’m being physically pushed, particularly as I enter middle age.
Yes, I’m not the same girl I used to be and neither is Noosa. You see, Noosa used to be oh, so posh. But these days, it’s for everyone. On my second evening on my beach balcony, a young couple sits on the grass and drinks red wine from a cask. No one bats an eyelid. Sure, you can still spot the southerners, the blokes conspicuous in their boat shoes and crisp chinos and the women in their white linen with just a dash too much makeup for a Queensland summer.
In a couple of days they’ll figure Noosa out once they’ve sat long enough on that famed Aromas sidewalk.
Across from the Surf Club, Betty’s Burgers is now an empire, but it’s not the Betty of old with her $1 burgers she used to sell from a shop window in the middle of Hastings Street. According to local legend, these owners also had a relative called Betty and these days a burger will set you back $10. As for the original Betty, she now grows and sells herbs to local restaurateurs.
I stop for lunch at the Surf Club on my last day and am joined by a curious little girl from the next table. She pulls up a perch, watches me eat and we talk about travel. She’s six and she’s flown from Sydney to be in Noosa. We find common ground talking about planes. She wants to build a sandcastle but has left her spade and bucket back home in Sydney. I tell her she can use her hands. There’s lemonade back at her hotel in the fridge, she says.
And then, out of the blue she exclaims: “I love Noosa.”
“Me too,” I smile. Me too.
The Global Goddess was a guest of Netanya Noosa http://www.netanyanoosa.com, which has been a Noosa favourite since 1995 and has recently undergone a facelift and opened Providore on Hastings. There’s 47 beachfront luxury apartments in this complex which is 100 per cent smoke free with smoking not permitted anywhere on the property including balconies, roof tops, apartments, corridors and the pool.
The Global Goddess also travelled with the assistance of Tourism Noosa http://www.visitnoosa.com.au
Postcard from Sydney
IT’S a sultry Sydney summer afternoon and I am ambling along Oxford Street. It’s been years since I’ve trotted around this part of town, one of Australia’s most well-known streets, which in two weeks will burst into bloom with its annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras parade. But on this languid Thursday afternoon in which I have just a couple of hours to spare, all is quiet, rainbow flags and a few saucy signs the only hint of what’s to come. Past the National School of Art bathed in warm sunlight I walk, glancing at the glorious Catholic Church before the typical terrace homes and some sassy street art catches my eye. Here’s a snapshot of Sydney I took while wandering around late last week…
The cafes were cute…
Rainbows were awaiting their pot of gold…
The buildings basked in the warm sunshine…
There were signs of summer everywhere…
Those typical terrace homes…
And some gorgeous graffiti art…
The Global Goddess travelled to Sydney as a guest of Travmedia – http://www.travmedia.com and stayed at the Travelodge Sydney – http://www.TFEhotels.com – within easy walking distance of Oxford Street. The Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras runs until March 6.
For more photos on all the destinations to which The Global Goddess travels, please follow me on Instragram @aglobalgoddess
Some Fragrant Fun
AFTER a long, hot summer where most Australians headed to the beach, it’s back to our desks and school for the kids today as we begin our year in earnest. Today’s blog is the final in my three-part Indonesian photo series, and it pays homage to the fragrant flowers that epitomise summer to me. After a month back at my desk, planning my travels, looking at new ways to blog, and even new business cards, I start my travelling year on Friday and will be bringing you lots of stories from Australia and around the world. I can’t wait to share them with you.
Indonesia is a frangipani frenzy…
A Bird of Paradise or two…
Flowers embedded in the architecture…
And even in the graffiti art…
The Global Goddess funded her own travel to Indonesia
“Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?” Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac, Landslide
THIS was meant to be a blog about bikes. You see, in the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to stay motivated and energised in that last month of winter – my most dreaded season – when all I really want to do is hibernate. And so, I’ve been searching for beauty in situations close to home in Brisbane, places where I may not have noticed joy before. And all of a sudden, I discovered this city was full of beautiful bicycles and I started to photograph them for this blog.
But in the past few days, while swirling this idea around my head in the same manner one might an expensive brandy around their palate, savouring every nuance, it occurred to me this was no longer a blog about bikes, but the seasons of our lives. That there really is a time to reap and a time to sow. There’s a time to get out there and embrace the world, and a time to allow yourself to fall fallow. And, after a huge year of travel which has taken me around the world and back a few times, that’s what I’ve been doing. Greasing and adjusting the old chain.
A couple of years ago when I lived in Singapore, I had a deep conversation with my then Kiwi flat mate. We were bemoaning yet another humid day which comes from living 100 kilometres from the Equator, and the fact that the sun rises at the same time every day, and sets at the same time every day, regardless of season. You can set your watch by the afternoon torrential downpours and, while dissecting this monotonous predictability, we decided that we needed seasons to define our years and our lives.
At this point, some of my readers will scoff at a girl who lives in sub-tropical Brisbane discussing the concept of seasons. Isn’t it hot there all the time, they’ll argue. And, relatively speaking if you are comparing Brisbane to Tasmania, for instance, you are probably right. But even here, where the sun shines for perhaps too many drought-riddled days of the year, we have seasons. (Last month, we shivered through the coldest winter day in 100 years when the temperature plunged to 2.6 degrees). The frangipani tree off the back deck loses its pungent flowers and lush green foliage and closes up like a hermit. My creaky Queenslander cottage moans like an old man with crook knees. And every draft that blows across the continent seems to squirm uneasily between the nooks and crannies of the tin and timber, finding nowhere to settle among the high ceilings designed for long summer days.
When the crisp mornings eventually concede to warm days, and when my schedule allows, I’ve been sitting on my back deck and basking in the winter sunshine, secretly willing the frangipani to come to life. Allowing myself time to reflect and regroup. To think about painting the proverbial bike a different colour. Or maybe trading it in for something completely new. That’s what we should do in winter. Dream. Polish the handlebars. Stare at our reflection.
Riding a bike for many of us remains one of our first memories of mastery. Sure, we all learned to walk and talk a long time before we ever surrendered our feet to three wheels, and eventually two, but it’s one of those defining life moments. That point in time where you whizz down a hill, carefree and reckless and hope the brakes work when you get to the bottom. I don’t know too many Aussies from a certain era who don’t have a scar on one or both knees from when they’ve had the inevitable gutser. God, I can’t even remember when last time I wrapped my mouth around that fantastic word. Nor, come to think of it, the last time I rode a bike.
But soon enough we learn that life is full of gutsers and dodgy brakes and greasy chains. There’s potholes and pitfalls galore, as is there supreme pleasure. So, in this last month of winter, be kind, be gentle, be compassionate to yourself and others. And, if like me, you are preparing to get back on that bike and cruise into spring, may the wind always be on your back and the soft sun on your face, as you ride through the inevitable seasons of your life.
The Goddess’ Briefs: Travel & Lifestyle tips for smart, strong, sexy and spiritual women (and the great men who love us!)
NEW ROUTE TO SCOOT TO SINGAPORE
Those wags at Scoot, the Low Cost Carrier of the Year, reckon it’s the Perth-fect way to travel to Singapore. Yep, not only is the big yellow bird offering a new route from Perth to Singaling, but due to huge interest, they have now advanced the first flight by one week. Scoot will now operate four additional flights starting on December 12, offering an extra 3200 seats during the busy pre-Christmas period. Fares, including taxes, start at just $169 from Perth and return from Singapore from $99. But you don’t have to live on Australia’s west coast to enjoy Scoot. The Global Goddess had the fortune of flying with them from the Gold Coast (she adores Coolangatta airport’s code: OOL) to Singapore and beyond to Bangkok in August. It’s a great carrier offering healthy competition to some of the bigger birds in the sky. And that’s always a great thing for Australian travellers. To book your flight, go to http://www.flyscoot.com
MORE EYES ON THE SKY
Looking a little further afield in the aviation industry, Lufthansa is offering some great deals to Europe for Aussie travellers. For sale until November 30, passengers can choose from 52 destinations for AUD883 plus tax. Lufthansa was the first airline The Global Goddess ever flew on. It was 1987 and she had been awarded a scholarship to travel to Germany. Believe it or not, Michael Jackson (yes, MJ!) was on her plane and she secured his autograph, which she still has. Jacko may be long gone, but Lufthansa lives on and goes from strength to strength. The German flagship carrier has just been named Europe’s Leading Airline at the World Travel Awards for the third time in a row, and its sixth time overall and plans to invest more than 3 billion Euro into its services over the coming months. On top of all of this, they’ve just launched a new online journey planner, to make your travels as seamless as possible. In the words of the immortal Michael Jackson: that’s a thriller. Go to http://www.germany.travel
LIFE IS CRUISEY IN FIJI
IT’S been almost a decade since The Global Goddess last cruised Fiji, but it remains one of her most memorable journeys. Those same smooth operators at Captain Cook Cruises have just released their 2014 departure dates for their two, seven-night Northern Fiji Discovery Cruises: The Four Cultures Discovery Cruise and Colonial Fiji Discovery Cruise. On The Four Cultures Discovery Cruise – the first Fiji cruise to circumnavigate Vanua Levu, passengers have the chance to experience four distinct Fijian cultures, as well as visit remote villages and schools. The Colonial Fiji Discovery Cruise reveals the unique history, art and culture of the Northern Fiji Islands as well as offering the ultimate experience of standing on the natural International Dateline. There’s also day trips to islands, waterfalls, lagoons, volcanic craters, hot springs, thriving markets and children’s choral church service. Throw in a plenty of swimming, snorkelling and diving, and you’ll be feeling like a young Brooke Shields before you know it. http://www.captaincook.com.fj
GET TECHWRECKED IN VANUTAU
The Global Goddess is breathlessly counting down the weeks till a planned work trip to Vanuatu and beautiful Bokissa takes place in early 2014. (In the meantime she is happy to gaze lovingly at this photo below). But before today, she had never heard of the phrase Nomophobia (fear of being out of mobile phone contact). Essentially, on the private island of Bokissa, mobile phone service is so notoriously unreliable, you are forced to undergo a digital detox. Instead of technology, you’ll have to content yourself with day dreaming, fishing, paddling a kayak, diving and that unmistakable squeak as pure white sand pours between your toes. Sure, you can find a place or two in the guest lounge if you simply must have internet connection, or you can spend your days walking through the 71 hectares of rainforest with the butterflies instead. Accommodation is in TV, radio and phone-free air-conditioned fales with their own private deck chairs, gardens and hammocks. This traveller, for one, can hardly wait to get there and switch off, in every sense of the word. http://www.bokissa.com
BIG IDEAS HAPPEN IN SMALL PLACES
In this week’s blog, The Global Goddess unveiled the happiest destination on the planet: The People’s Republic of Woodford. Woodfordia, a Utopia which occurs for just one week every years, between Christmas and New Year, in the Sunshine Coast hinterland. Now, those creatives behind the festival, has just announced a new concert touring program – The Festival of Small Halls – in which cool music gigs will be played at beautiful old halls in rural Australia. Designed in partnership with Woodford’s fellow festivals around the country, international and national artists will perform at a big festival and then stay on to share the love at a nearby small hall for a month in between. The pilot tour happens next month, at the Mullum Music Festival, and will tour 16 small halls in Queensland, before arriving at the Woodford Folk Festival. For a list of halls, dates, artists and other information, check out http://www.festivalofsmallhalls.com and don’t forget to book your Woodford tickets at http://www.woodfordfolkfestival.com The Global Goddess reckons it’s going to be one sizzling summer, with plenty of cool things to do.