Friday, 7 July 2017

10 things you didn't know about Jane Goodall

A couple of Fridays ago I almost got to meet one of my heroes when I heard Jane Goodall speak at the Hordern Pavilion in Sydney. I was supposed to interview her, but Jane (no one calls her Dr Goodall) had to cancel - she was worn out by her week of Sydney engagements and, well, she is 83.

Pic: Jane Goodall Institute
Still, the three-hour "Evening with Dr Jane Goodall" event* was fascinating. She spoke for about 40 minutes about her life then did a Q&A with National Geographic presenter Hayden Turner.

What struck me was how real Jane is - no makeup, hair tied back in the trademark ponytail, dressed for comfort in a pale blue fleece and black slacks.

Then there's her calm, steady voice - halfway between the kindest schoolteacher you ever knew and the wise professor you always wished you'd had.

Jane in the field
Pic: Jane Goodall Institute
The world's most famous animal-lover is most famous for "redefining man" through her chimpanzee research in Gombe Stream National Park, Tanzania, when she observed that primates use and make tools, a skill previously thought to be unique to humans. She also found that chimps have emotional lives, personalities and a dark side - just like us.

Even without meeting her, I learned a few things about her that night, things maybe you didn't know either. Here's my top 10:

Pic: Jane Goodall Institute
1. She is something of a guru, albeit a reluctant one. As soon as she walked onto the stage at the Hordern, before she'd even uttered a word, she received a standing ovation from the 3000 people there. She has that kind of presence, without being charismatic in the traditional sense.

2. She has loved animals since birth. "I popped out of the womb loving animals," she said. One of her earliest memories is of taking a handful of earthworms to bed with her, earth and all.

And she did her first fieldwork at the age of four, staking out the henhouse at a friend's farm to find out how (and where) eggs come out of chickens. "Isn't that the making of a little scientist?" she said after telling that story. "Curiosity, asking questions, not getting the right answer, deciding to find out for yourself, making a mistake, not giving up, learning patience - it was all there."

A young Goodall at Gombe
Pic: Jane Goodall Institute
3. She loves reading, too. In fact although her father gave her a toy chimpanzee when she was a year old, it was a book that sparked her dream of going to Africa: Tarzan of the Apes. As a romantic 10-year-old she "fell passionately in love with this glorious lord of the jungle". Of course she knew Tarzan wasn't real, but reading about him made her want to "grow up, go to Africa, live with wild animals and write books about them."

4. Her "amazing mother" was an important force in Jane's life. Vanne Morris-Goodall, a novelist, never crushed Jane's childhood love of animals, encouraged her to follow her dream (when others laughed and told her to "forget this nonsense about Africa") and spent three months in a tent with Jane at Gombe Stream National Park in 1960 when government authorities (Tanzania was the British Protectorate of Tanganyika then) didn't want a young woman living alone in the bush. They even caught malaria together - and survived, without the aid of anti-malarials.

Jane & David Greybeard
Pic: Hugo van Lawick
5. Everyone calls her Jane. She was born Valerie Jane Morris-Goodall on 3 April 1934 and later became Baroness Jane van Lawick-Goodall when she married National Geographic photographer Hugo van Lawick in 1964. She's now a Dame, a PhD and a UN Messenger of Peace. But everyone still refers to her and addresses her as simply "Jane".

Chimpanzees at Gombe
Pic: Jane Goodall Institute
6. She learned that animals have emotions and personalities not from chimpanzees but from her dog, she said. But spending time with chimpanzees in the wild did teach her how much like us they are. "With their gestures and postures and it's so clear when you look into the eyes of a chimpanzee... that you're looking into the eyes of a thinking, feeling, sentient being. It's not science, it's just how it is."

7. She believes in magic and often talks about the world's troubles stemming from "a disconnect between this clever brain and the human heart". When asked to describe a magical moment, she said, "Sometimes if I'm on my own in the rainforest, I get this feeling... the magic is when you as a person are no longer there, you're part of nature. You're part of it. That's magic."

Jane & Flint. Pic: Hugo van Lawick
for National Geographic
8. She travels constantly - she hasn't spent more than three weeks in one place since the mid-1980s - but not by choice. In 1986, after living at Gombe Stream for 15 years, she went to a conference of chimpanzee researchers and was shocked to learn that all over Africa chimpanzee numbers were decreasing, forests were disappearing, wild animals were being hunted commercially and exploited for entertainment and medical research. "I went to that conference as a scientist... and I left as an activist," she said.

9. She's a private person, despite being always in the public eye. "I can't go through an airport without somebody coming up to me saying, 'Are you Jane?' I always have to be on show, in a way. And I'm not that kind of person. That's a problem, it's a big problem for me."

But, ever the pragmatist, she uses her fame, the "National Geographic Jane", to spread the message that "each one of us makes a difference and that this planet is our only home and we have to save it."

Jane on "Jane's Peak"
Pic: National Geographic
10. She's still most at home in nature. When asked what her ideal day would be like, if she didn't have to do any talks or raise money for Gombe Research Station and her sanctuaries for orphaned chimps or promote her Roots & Shoots youth program, she doesn't even have to think about it:

"I'd be in a rainforest by myself. And if I couldn't be in a rainforest, I'd be at home in England, in the house that I grew up in, with a dog and a nice cosy fire, walking the dog and having time to read and write and just be, not do." Sounds pretty good to me.

~

*Big thanks to G Adventures for inviting me to "An Evening with Dr Jane Goodall" to celebrate their new Jane Goodall Collection of 20 wildlife-focused trips around the world and their updated Animal Welfare Policy, both of which have been endorsed by Jane. And to the Jane Goodall Institute of Australia for the images used here.

Monday, 29 May 2017

Walking to Petra: Six days on the new Jordan Trail

The world is amazing. But every now and then I go somewhere that makes me want to shout about it from the treetops, like a new love or an epiphany.

Donkey-wrangler Ali + Sharah mtns
Jordan is my latest love and I'm writing this not just to share what it's like, but to write myself back there.

Two weeks ago today I finished one of the best multi-day treks I've done: the six-day Dana to Petra hike (Nat Geo rated it one of the best in the world in 2011), part of the new 650km Jordan Trail, which takes 40 days end to end and officially opened in February.

The whole region is a trekkers' paradise, actually. At the adventure travel conference I attended on the Dead Sea after the hike, I learned about long-distance trails in Palestine, Israel and Lebanon, and adventure tours in Iraqi Kurdistan, an autonomous region in northern Iraq. Who knew?

Natural beauty, in sandstone 
There's something surreal about trekking in Jordan. It's an oasis of safety in a troubled region, for one thing. It's earthy and otherworldly (no wonder The Martian, starring Matt Damon, was shot there). It's rugged and ancient.

I'd expected it to be hot, but we had heat-wave conditions including a couple of 40-degree days.

Barefoot and blistered on Day 4
That meant early starts (we were usually on the trail by 7am), carrying 4-5 litres of water in our daypacks (sometimes a donkey walked with us, carrying more), stopping to sip electrolytes and snack on dates in pools of shade made by juniper trees, and long lunches to kick off our boots and avoid the midday sun.

There were steep climbs and knee-jarring descents, canyon scrambles and long trudges along rocky riverbeds, the sense of remoteness enhanced by our aloneness: we didn't see anyone else on the unmarked trail all week.

Onward and upward, Day 2
There were no roads, no fences, no telegraph poles. Just griffin vultures and lizards as blue as the cloudless sky.

Sometimes we'd pass a Bedouin camp, the black goat-hair tents flapping in the hairdryer breeze, the inhabitants out for the day, grazing their animals.

Once we came across a small shop at the edge of a cliff, run by a man called Springtime Christmas (Rabir Eid in Arabic) who played his goatskin violin (rebab) for us.

Domed tents and sandstone ones
By late afternoon we'd reach our campsite, the tents already set up by our Bedouin support crew on a ridge overlooking the Sharah mountains or surrounded by wind-carved domes of blonde sandstone.

They'd give us reviving cups of sweet sage or mint tea and set up bucket showers to rinse off the dust, then cook us feasts of lamb (and vegetarian dishes) served with Jordanian red wine.

One night we stayed at Feynan Ecolodge, an off-grid, solar-powered mirage of a place in Dana Biosphere Reserve.

The Bedouin-run Feynan Ecolodge
Built in 2005 by the Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature, a Jordanian NGO, it operates according to strict social as well as environmental principles, benefiting 85 Bedouin families or about 400 people (all the staff are local, transfers and activities are run by locals, and food and services are sourced locally).

At Feynan we walked to a nearby hill to watch the setting sun bleed into the heat haze still radiating from the rocky ground around us. Then returned to find the lodge entirely candlelit, from its restaurant to the 26 rooms, as it is every night.

Back on the trail we found clues to the ancientness of this part of the world: fossils of marine creatures that once lived in the Tethys Sea, Roman copper mines, Nabatean dams and wine presses and tombs.

Then we walked into Petra.

The Monastery (Ad Deir)
Arriving at this World Heritage-listed Wonder of the World on foot via its "back door" was an Indiana Jones moment if ever there was one. A small ticket office in the middle of nowhere, where we showed our Jordan Passes, was the only sign we were close; there were no gates this side, no other tourists.

We kept walking, passing a few caves dug into high red-sandstone walls until, without warning, we found ourselves in front of the Monastery, Petra's largest monument, a facade almost 50m high that seems to have grown out of a vertical rock face.

Wadi Muthlim, in Petra
There were no crowds, no selfie sticks, no touts - partly because tourism to Jordan has dropped by more than half since the Arab Spring of 2011, partly because it's a long, hot hike up 800 steps to reach the Monastery from the main trail.

So much surprised me about Petra. It's massive, for one thing (264 square kilometres) with aqueducts, avenues and an amphitheatre carved from solid rock. It's an incredible natural landscape as much as an archaeological site. And most of the monuments are tombs, the dwellings of the 30,000 Nabateans who lived there between 1st century BC and 2nd century AD having been long destroyed by earthquakes (the Jordan Rift Valley is where the African and Arabian plates grind against each other).

The famous glimpse
of the Treasury
We spent the night at a hotel in Wadi Musa, the town that sprawls downhill to Petra's main gate, and walked back into Petra the next morning, following the main tourist trail through the Siq, a narrow gorge barely 3m wide in places.

Even then we saw only a few other tourists, making that first glimpse of the Treasury, Petra's best-known monument - the same view that inspired Swiss explorer Johann Burkhardt to bring Petra to the attention of the non-Arab world in 1812 - sublime, and a fitting end to our Jordan adventure.

"From the rock as if by magic grown, eternal, silent, beautiful, alone... A rose-red city half as old as time," wrote English poet John William Burgon in 1845. Petra, and maybe all of Jordan, still feels like this: earthbound yet ethereal, a message from another time.

*

Group selfie by Ayman at the Treasury
Big thanks to the Adventure Travel Trade Association based in Seattle, USA, for inviting me to their AdventureNEXT conference in Jordan and to Jordan Tourism and Experience Jordan and our wonderful guide Ayman Abd-Alkareem.

Experience Jordan, based in Amman, Jordan's capital, runs the Dana to Petra Trek and others as private tours, tailoring them to each group, and always gives back to Bedouin communities who call this rugged landscape home.

Friday, 5 May 2017

Adventures in simple travel: Soul trekker Laura Waters

This is starting to become a habit: I can't resist interviewing people I meet who have had an adventure that strips life back to its essence. 

Mountain RnR: Laura resting
somewhere in the South Island
This latest instalment is about Laura Waters, who spent five months walking the length of New Zealand in 2014.

Before I knew better, I'd assumed she was a Kiwi, tackling the 3068km Te Araroa Trail to better understand her home country. Turns out she’s from this side of the ditch (as we Australasians call the Tasman Sea), which made her trek even more intriguing. 

What makes a young Australian woman do a long-distance walk in the first place, solo, and why New Zealand?

Just thinking about it makes me long for mountain trails and endless beaches and the simplicity of putting one boot in front of the other, taking each day's sunrise as it comes and each night's hut companions as they are. 


But beyond the romance of solo trekking, what was it really like? I asked Laura a few questions to find out: 

Happy tramper: Laura on the trail
How did this all start? Where did the idea come from? 
I’d had the urge for an adventure lurking in my mind for years. I wanted to stretch myself and see what I was capable of and when I stumbled across the Te Araroa in a hiking magazine I knew immediately it was what I’d been looking for. A stunning country with varied terrain, navigational challenges, river crossings, a trail 3000km long - it seemed to have the right balance of challenge without being so difficult I might inadvertently kill myself. 

Thankfully the idea arrived at a time when I most needed it. I’d been struggling with a very low emotional state for about a year before I set off on the hike. The over stimulation and stress of city life had become overwhelmingly difficult to deal with and I was desperately in need of a change of environment.

How did you prepare for such an epic trek? 
I’d probably done about a dozen multi-day hikes before attempting the trail, but none over 65km! I knew my mind was already strong, but I spent eight months working with a physio to strengthen my core and gluts, weaknesses that made me prone to sore knees. I walked two hours a day for three months before departure on my daily commute to work and carried a fully loaded pack for the last month of it (no doubt to the amusement of the other corporate workers in the high rise building in Melbourne where I worked).

Lone ranger: crossing the
Richmond Ranges
Why solo? 
I actually started the trek with a girlfriend who pulled out on the second day [due to injury]. I didn't know if I could do the walk solo but I decided I'd just keep going, take it one day at a time and see how far I could get. 


Were there any little luxuries you couldn’t leave home without? 
Music, a massage bar and a diary. I had wondered before I left whether I should leave the tunes at home and just listen to the sounds of nature, but music has a great capacity to uplift and transport your mind to another place, which comes in handy when you're having a challenging day. I took a small chunk of Lush massage bar too. Massaging your legs and feet not only feels great, but helps your body recover after the constant daily pounding. And the diary was a must-have to record the journey I was on, both external and internal.

Tree time: the Raetea Forest 
What were your days like?
It's not an easy trail. It’s very physical at times, bush-bashing through overgrown forest, rock-hopping boulders, climbing over logs and falling down holes hidden by waist-high tussock. On average I walked about eight hours a day, six days a week. Some days were much longer and sometimes I didn’t get a break for nearly two weeks. 

I also hiked faster than I would on day hikes back home, conscious of the need to finish within five months, before winter set in. It was really a whirlwind of walking, eating, setting up camp, cooking, washing clothes. I would aim for one rest day a week during which I could have a proper shower, launder my clothes, resupply on food and share my journey and photos with the outside world.


Tackling scree: Near the Waiau Pass
Were you ever afraid? 
Not of people. I had one slightly creepy guy invite me to stay at his place during the first 100km of beach, but other than that I didn't see many people at all, just a few hard-core hikers. 

But I regularly felt completely intimidated by the weather and the terrain: the precipitous drop-offs to the side, the ridiculously steep 'trails' where you could easily fall backwards and tumble to the bottom. My scariest moment was getting caught in a sudden snowstorm on the last day of summer in the South Island. I was only half an hour from a hut, but my core temperature plummeted like a stone. And I nearly got blown off a ridge in the Tararua Range in the North Island. The wind sounded like a jet engine. You realise your insignificance over there.

What did you love about life on the trail?
The simplicity of daily life: walk, eat, sleep. Washing my body in a river, collecting drinking water from dripping moss, eating simple food, listening to rivers rushing or owls hooting from my tent at night. No makeup, no mirrors, no media, no advertising, one outfit, one bag of belongings. I’ve never been happier.

What did you miss, if anything? 
Nothing. I realised you actually need very little to be blissfully happy. Nature filled me up.

The end is nigh: Tussock grass
What else did you learn about yourself and life?
Oh gosh, where to start? I learned I am capable of much more than I realised. That most fears are largely imagined and often it’s the thought of something that gets in the way of life more than the thing itself. 

I learned to listen to my intuition and trust my judgement. Without the constant noise of modern life, I gained clarity of thought. I discovered who I really am, free of any outside influences such as society and media and I had a blank slate on which to rebuild myself. I realised how much unnecessary noise and drama humans create and decided to opt out of that in future. I realised that if you just try, things generally work out – just head in the direction you want to go and you will find a way.

Views: Fresh snow and Lake Tekapo
Did the trek make you want to walk more, or hang up your hiking boots? 
I finished the hike feeling bulletproof and super fit. I could easily have kept walking. In fact I did, down to Stewart Island [at the bottom of the South Island]. I actually felt quite traumatised when it was all over; I didn’t want to go back to ‘normal’ life and everything that went with it. I’d discovered a new world – a better one, to my mind – and no longer felt I belonged in modern society.

How did it change your life?
It’s been three years now since I finished the hike. After six months back at my old job I quit the corporate world, sold a lot of my belongings and started wandering with my backpack and a laptop, working on a book about my hiking journey. 

I keep my expenses down by living simply, volunteering in exchange for accommodation and writing articles for magazines. I’ve roamed in the Solomon Islands, Thailand, New Zealand and around Australia, even spent six weeks sailing up the Queensland coast. I buy very little these days besides the essentials - food, wine and travel - and though I don’t have a lot of spare cash I have freedom and that makes me feel rich. I live inspired, doing things I love and going wherever opportunity leads me. Life is good.



Laura's book, tentatively titled Soul Trekking, is due out later this year. You can read more about her love of simplicity, nature and walking at her website Soul Trekkers.


Saturday, 22 April 2017

The unbearable lightness of Morocco, unplugged

A short post today, and an ironic one: to share a link to my Morocco unplugged story (about a new "digital detox" trip I did earlier this year) while en route to an accidental digital detox on beautiful Lord Howe Island (well, there is WiFi at the small museum, when it's open, but not at Pinetrees Lodge, apparently by popular request.)

Djelleba phonetime, Meknes
The concept behind the Morocco trip, one of Intrepid Travel's three new "digital detox" adventures, was that everyone in our small group would sign a pledge to not use their smartphones or any other devices for nine days.

Living in northern NSW now, where some of my friends don't even use email let alone Facebook, I didn't find it too hard. In fact it was a relief to forget my life back home and immerse myself in Morocco. I wrote postcards, read a real book (instead of my Kindle), played cards, got used to not knowing the time or what was happening in the world and listened to our guide telling folk stories instead of disappearing into my headphones. It was a lighter way to travel, somehow.

A moment in the holy hill
town of Moulay Idriss
I think my four companions liked it too, though two 20-somethings admitted they use apps back home to manage their use of social media (one is called Forest: if you succumb to the call of the online world, a virtual tree dies).

"The only thing that makes life worth living is the possibility of experiencing now and then a perfect moment," wrote American writer Paul Bowles, Tangier's best known expat, who lived there for 52 years.

"And perhaps even more than that, it's having the ability to recall such moments in their totality, to contemplate them like jewels."

Others might disagree, but surely the only way to experience anything is to "look up" from our devices. In fact, remember Look Up, that spoken-word short film by Gary Turk? It's had more than 60 million views since it was uploaded to YouTube in 2014. If that's not ironic, I don't know what is.

As always, thanks for reading. Now let's all go outside, and look up at the sky.

Thursday, 6 April 2017

Earth Weekend: 13 natural things to do on Norfolk Island

This time last week, I was driving around Norfolk Island in a flapping tent. At least that's how it felt in my rental Mini Moke (for the uninitiated, that's a small jeep). I loved it.

I was there to find out about outdoorsy things to do on this small Australian island, but I didn't expect getting around would be one of them.

Norfolk Island pines
where they belong
I'd hoped to do Earth Hour there, even packed a beeswax candle. That didn't happen; there didn't seem to be any Earth Hour events on, so I joined a lantern-lit ghost tour of Kingston, the island's eerie convict settlement.

But I ended up having an Earth Weekend instead, because Norfolk Island is one of the most natural, and naturally beautiful, islands in the South Pacific.

How could you not love a place whose emblem, which flies proudly on its flag, is a tree? None other than the Norfolk Island pine, which is all over the island (the main township is even called Burnt Pine), except on the bits that are rolling green hills.

In fact from the air -- Norfolk is a two-hour flight from Sydney and Brisbane, an hour and a half from Auckland -- it looks like one big dairy farm in the middle of the sea.


Norfolk Island Tourism's
earthy media kit
Forget about the 100-mile diet. On Norfolk you can have a 100-metre diet. It's ridiculously easy to "eat local" there. 

All its fruit and vegetables are grown on the island, which is just 5km by 8km. There's locally caught fish, local beef and fresh milk of course, but also coffee, goat's cheese (from The Hilli Goat), even wine (from Two Chimneys winery). 

Everyone drinks rainwater (aka "cloud juice"), which comes straight out of the tap.

Best of all, the island is a nature-lover's playground. Here's my list of the top natural things to do on Norfolk Island:


Nature's pool at Emily Bay
1. Swim at Emily Bay. Unlike Lord Howe Island, which is also about two hours from the east coast of Australia, Norfolk doesn't have many beaches. But it makes up for that with Emily Bay, a perfect crescent of white sand that wraps itself around a bay of gin-clear water. There's even a floating pontoon you can swim out to, Mediterranean-style, and green grass shaded by towering pines to relax under.

2. Breathe fresh air - or buy some. If you're there on a Sunday, head to the craft market outside the Tourist Information Centre where you can buy a tiny corked bottle of fresh island air for a couple of bucks. Priceless.

3. Snorkel Slaughter Bay. It's hard to imagine a less inviting name for this low-tide snorkelling spot on the island's south coast, but this lagoon hemmed in by coral reef has a dazzling array of marine life. I snorkelled there one afternoon with Karlene Christian, a diver and Norfolk Islander (they don't call themselves Australians), who picked "sea grapes" that we ate in a salad of lime-cured kingfish on the beach afterwards. Best post-swim snack ever.

Norfolk's north coast "apostles"
seen from the walking track
4. Walk the coastal cliffs. On the north coast, about 20 minutes' flapping drive across the island, I spent a scenic couple of hours walking along a cliff-hugging track looking down on Twelve Apostle-like islets such as Bird Rock and a rock pool called The Chord and didn't see another soul - on a Sunday! (Only about 1600 people live on the island.)

There's also a half-day guided trek on Phillip Island, 6km off the south coast, said to be amazing, but the seas were too rough to get to the island when I was there.

5. Go surfing. Speaking of rough seas... Norfolk isn't an easy place to surf, there being no surf shops or surf schools. The trick is to find a local who can lend you a board and show you where to paddle out. I found two: Emily (who runs the Hilli Goat Farm) and Zach (a surf photographer), who took me surfing at Bumboras early one morning. The waves were wild, and the board not quite what I'm used to, but it was one of my favourite experiences of the trip, a glimpse of islander life.

Foraged food by the sea
6. Have a picnic. Driving around, you'll see roadside produce stalls, with honesty boxes (and bananas for 10c!). Or Island Nectar can put together a hamper of sustainable and traditional island foods (think smoked kingfish, goats cheese, guava paste) you can take to any of Norfolk's beauty spots, maybe Emily or Anson Bay or Rocky Point.

7. Go foraging. Food isn't just grown by human hands on Norfolk; it's growing wild by the road, in paddocks, beside streams. I spent a delightful couple of hours with chef-historian Rachel Nebauer-Borg picking guavas, wild spinach and watercress on one of her foraging tours.


Emily Bay by Adam Jauczius
8. See natural art. A small gallery on the main street opened last month: Norfolk Art, which showcases Adam Jauczius's beautiful paintings of Norfolk's natural side, its pine trees and beaches and coastal cliffs. You can even pick up a print or a few postcards, for souvenirs and to support a local artist.

9. Watch the sun set over the sea. When you live on the east coast of Australia (or anywhere), seeing the sun set over the sea is a treat. On Norfolk Island you can do that at several spots, but Puppies Point is my pick (see below), a grassy reserve under the pines where it's just you, the cows and the soaring seabirds.


Orange sky at night, tourist's delight
10. Buy a Boomerang Bag. Like other forward-thinking places around Australia, Norfolk Island has free reusable cloth bags for shoppers to use, to reduce plastic bag use. Buy one at the airport for a great sustainable souvenir.

(They're called Boomerang Bags because ideally you bring them back to the shop where you got them, on your next visit. It's a worldwide movement that started in Australia; Boomerang Bag HQ is at Burleigh Heads. See boomerangbags.org for more info.)


Barefoot tree-hugging
11. Hug a Norfolk Island pine tree. It's almost impossible to snap a photo on Norfolk Island without one of its endemic pine trees being in it. These trees have made themselves right at home up and down east coast Australia, but they all came from here. And how cool is this: it's an island tradition to plant 100 pine trees for every islander who lives to 100; there have been three so far, all women.

12. Look out. Norfolk has more than its fair share of lookouts. Two of the best are Mount Pitt, where you can get a 360-degree view of the island; and Captain Cook lookout (Cook was the first European to spot the island, in 1774) where you can sit at the cliff edge watching terns, boobies and tropicbirds ride the updrafts.

Mokes are always ready when you are
13. Rent a Moke. You need a car to get around Norfolk and car hire is often included in accommodation rates. Why not make it a Moke? They might not run on biodiesel but they're the epitome of simplicity: no locks, no electric windows (no windows!), no power steering. Just hop in and feel the wind in your hair.


Natural beauty is a wild hibiscus
And I haven't even mentioned swimming in sparkling natural rock pools, sea kayaking along the coast, twilight walking tours or star-gazing (excellent because there's little light pollution) -- none of which I got to do this time. Which is a good thing. Now I have another reason to go back.

Big thanks to Norfolk Island Tourism and Air New Zealand for a work trip that almost felt like a holiday.