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Topic: Australians abroad
Experiencing Vietnam, old school style

Experiencing Vietnam, old school style

So you’ve just launched into a travel story. An amazing tale of bravery, derring-do and batik shopping in the face of extreme food poisoning. And you’re just about to reach the climax when someone pipes up: ‘Oh, Baluchistan. I was there before it was trendy.’ Yes, it’s infuriating. No, I can’t help myself. Because (with […]

So long, and thanks for all the sour cream

So long, and thanks for all the sour cream

“You’ll get bored,” she’d said to me, with such certainty that I wondered if it might be true. ‘She’ was my boss, and they were her parting words as I walked out of my office, family photos from my desk and farewell card stashed in my bag, three years in a country I couldn’t even […]

Close encounters of the rural Polish kind

Close encounters of the rural Polish kind

“We could go to Wylatowo,” I say to Yvette. “What’s there?” she asks. “Alien crop circles, apparently,” I reply. I look at her, doubtful anyone will find this as interesting as I do. Yvette bounces up and down with excitement. I know why I am friends with this person, I think. Not for the first […]

Uncovering long buried things in a Polish cemetery

Uncovering long buried things in a Polish cemetery

If you come to visit me in Warsaw, it’s likely I’ll suggest visiting the Jewish cemetery in Bródno. And we’ll get on a tram and head to the entrance, on Sw. Wincentego Street. And there, you may start to wonder if I’ve got the right place. Isn’t that just an old, overgrown forest of silver […]

Find a chome amongst the goom trees in the Sahara

Find a chome amongst the goom trees in the Sahara

Sitting in the 4WD bashing our way through the Tunisian desert, I put my essentials in a purse: my phone, credit cards, keys. Which I bury deep in the bottom of my bag. For the next seven days I’ll be trekking through the Sahara with ten Poles. What is ‘essential’, I notice, is rather different here.

Avoiding the JAFA tag: tips for living in London

Avoiding the JAFA tag: tips for living in London

You can imagine my horror, then, when I arrived in London last year, bought myself a wine in the nearest pub, and was promptly labelled JAFA -- that’s right, Just Another F*cking Australian -- by the proper local geezer sitting next to me.