It had long been one of my bucket-list items to trek Kokoda. Not just for the physical and mental challenge of it, not just because of the iconic place it will always have in Australian wartime history, but also  because my late father Alan spent over two years in New Guinea during World War II.

I’ve been fortunate that God has blessed me with reasonable health and fitness, but as I was approaching 63, I needed to get Kokoda done. So, with my 61-year-old mate Jim Armanasco, who was happy to  takeup the challenge as well, we trained for the trek. On 22 May this year, we flew from Perth to Port Moresby to meet our trekking leader Andrew Johnson (AJ) and four other fellow trekkers. We then  headed off to our rooms to rearrange our belongings into backpacks and enjoy sleeping in a real bed for the last time for eight nights. Continue Reading

For a long time now I have had a fascination with Antarctica. So much so that I did some research into working there. Not being much of a call for teachers down in Antarctica, I realised  the only way I was going to get there was as a tourist.

Most tourists visit Antarctica via the Antarctic Peninsula, a couple of days sail from Argentina – this was not the experience I wanted. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of the great  explorers of the Heroic Age; Scott, Shackleton and Mawson. If I was going to make the journey, I wanted to go below the Antarctic Circle and really experience the remoteness of this  southern world.

For me, the experience gained in travelling is something that needs to be shared, so I convinced my Dad to take this journey with me. Our journey began in New Zealand and then it took  us seven days by ship to reach the Ross Sea. The Ross Sea is south of Australia and New Zealand in East Antarctica. The reactions of people when you tell them you are going to  Antarctica vary greatly. Some say, “How exciting!” Others say, “Why? It’s so far away and there is nothing there!” Continue Reading

It might have been taken as a compliment: the minister for mining in Zambia offering me a job in government (never mind my training as a Speech  Pathologist) as I stood in a cemetery car park between two black land rovers with my friend and a multitude of government officials, wearing my  backpacking sandals and a skirt that didn’t meet the knee…

“Welcome to Zambia, TIA (this is Africa)” exclaimed my friend…. and so began my journey through South East Africa, Morocco, Southern Europe and across to Turkey.

When I was approached to write a brief article for Revive about my trip, I was told it didn’t have to be churchy or religious. ‘Good!’ I thought to myself, because the purpose of my trip  was a big holiday; a big self indulgent adventure! Continue Reading