My darling darlings, strap yourselves in for Monday in Paris! I was up and down during the night taking photos as you do. That‘s the view from my bathroom window—also part of the original La Maison Rose. No murderers lurking—that I could see. Do you see the wisteria? I woke at 4am—my body clock still firmly stuck in where’s the rosé gone? mode. As the sun rose somewhere behind the thick overcast, I pulled on pretty much the same clothes I wore on the plane except not the jack

Coucou mes amis! Nous voici en la belle France! We landed at Charles de Gaulle at the ungodly hour of 7am-ish, which remains, just between us, my least favourite airport. You know how much I love Paris, and France, and the French, but the CDG terminal reminds me of those round pigeon tower-houses in Iran—circular, with floor after floor around a giant hollow centre. In Iran the pigeons flew in from above and did what they were meant to do—turned it into a fertiliser factory.

亲爱的旅行伙伴 Haha, fooled you! You thought I’d had too much champagne already, didn’t you? That means Dear travelling buddy —and you’ll be pleased to know I’m still sober enough to type in English. It’s only been about twelve hours since I left home, and here I am sitting in the China Southern lounge at Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, comfortably parked for my epic seven-and-a-half-hour layover, feeling a little hot (30 degrees outside) but definitely not legless. Darling daughter Ange

My dear travelling buddy, In a few days, you and I will be hurtling through the sky toward France. If you’ve never travelled with me before—welcome. I’ll try not to get us lost. At the moment, however, I’m still in Australia. Sitting at the dining table with a notebook. A pen. And an empty suitcase. I know. I've left it late. I've been extremely busy not packing. I used to haul a suitcase the size of a small refrigerator across cobblestones, up steps, into trains, out of car

Dear A-lister, There are, objectively, eleventy billion beautiful places to write. Florence in spring. Sydney harbour. Hydra’s blue-white dazzle. My own desk, with white bifold shutters overlooking a travertine terrace, clipped green hedges, blue, blue sky. Some washing. All heaven. So why France? Shhhh my inner sparkle fairy has already packed. Saying no could cause a full diva meltdown. But why now? Because when I told her I must stay at home and keep grinding out book prom

I'm sorry I haven't updated you about the novel lately. I thought you'd think, Oh for goodness sake, aren't you published yet? And now...

It's been a while. The journey continues...

When I left my guardian angel Trish in Braidwood on Tuesday afternoon, I was in a hurry. I'd intended to buy a takeaway dinner in...

Promising to speak soon, Trisha and I hugged goodbye on Tuesday morning after breakfast, and I left Bobundara for Braidwood on my next...

Bobundra breakfasts include freshly juiced grapefruit, orange, carrot, ginger, beetroot and turmeric. One glass of this delicious purple...

What a great few days! How fabulous to have the chance to visit Monaro to see for the first time the vastness of that amazing treeless...

In the last post about Tassie, I said I'd have a surprise in a couple of weeks. Nous voici! I didn't ever dream that I'd start writing a...

And so to the final leg of our journey - from Strahan on the west coast, through Queenstown to Pumphouse Point, then on to Hobart to fly...

After spending a lifetime of summers in sticky muggy Queensland, it's hard to imagine a better destination at this time of year than...

The very name Cradle Mountain has its own magic cachet. Because of excellent marketing? As significant as we'd been led to believe? We...