Learn how to pitch your travel writing and become a content creator who travels the world.
The Lap of Tassie, as we call it within the crew, follows two Aussie surf dads Dustin Hollick and Rhian Slapp, on a journey around Tasmania in 10 days with no cash, no car, no phone, and just 10 personal items each.
Waves of Grace is a powerful VR experience following the journey of an Ebola survivor in Liberia.
Women have been suppressed by the dominance of conditioned and learned masculinity for generations and now the minority is rising up out of its shackles to meet the imbalance face on and demand change. That paradigm shift is relevant, necessary, but not absolute.
“The ocean taught me that no matter how big your house, how big your ego, at the end of the day we have little control over life but we can choose how we respond to life’s many challenges.”
Covering themes so close to my heart, and offering very different experiences, the exhibition is an absolute must for anyone interested in Virtual Reality, immersive storytelling, design, art, documentary film and raising empathy through storytelling.
When I was a 'grommet', all I could think of was building a life based around surfing. I had a fleeting moment as a young teen surfer that I might strive to become a professional competitor, but truth be told I loved surfing mostly for the community, the travel, and that feeling of freedom that dancing on water permitted. Competing, sadly, gave me the shits (literally) and I simply could not stomach competition (pun intended).
Through my university years I surfed less and partied more. I dated a musician and our life was filled with live shows and loads of boozing. It was not until I moved to the coast of Japan, after a year in the mountains snowboarding, that I lived within walking distance from the surf and I possibly surfed harder and more frequently than ever. In my first trimester of pregnancy with Ryder, I jetted from Tokyo to Delhi, and spent almost a months surfing the west coast of India. Shortly after, my little bulging bump turned into a hindrance on a board, and I switched to an inflatable mat, getting in the water daily until the day of delivery. Post-baby, I surfed like a nut again, spending months in Australia with my cousin Serena, a surf coach and previously Australian champ, and also a new mum to baby Jet who was just two months older than Ryder.
Over the years that followed, I have learned that ocean and the joy it offers will always be a part of me, but that there is more to life than an unhealthy addiction to surfing. Travel and a love of the mountains has taken me off the beaten path more than once, particularly in the past two years as the kids and I have lived in locations far from the sea, such as Colombia's Bucaramanga, and Japan's Hakuba.
When I met Remy, it was as though we both felt the same about our love for surfing and our ease in adapting to varying landscapes and travel opportunities. In fact, in the first six months of living together in Australia, we surfed only once together. Our weekdays were filled with ocean swims and beach walks, but we had our heads buried in new pursuits - Virtual Reality development for me, and music for Remy. We thus did not hesitate to venture off on a surfboard-free road trip to far North Queensland, and then later a four-month epic across Asia and the Himalayas.
Fast forward a year, and we have both been missing the ocean. Jumping in for swims as much as we could during our weeks in Adelaide, when we arrived to Lennox Head to surprise the kids and re-organise our few belongings before Remy was to take off for a visa run to New Zealand (he left this morning) with plans to meet the kids and I in Canada by the end of the month, surfing was finally on the agenda.
We snuck our first little session in back at The Pass, in Byron Bay, with my cousin Serena and her kids. Then yesterday, with the winds offshore and eager for one last mini adventure before Remy hit the skies, we threw our boards in the car and took the ferry over to South Ballina to my favourite wave around this area (name omitted). As a true gentleman would do, Remy let me paddle out for a couple waves first. The water like a bath and crystal clear, I felt at home again on my board, although my shoulders and legs in their jelly state were yet to catch up. My first wave a wobbly disaster, by the second I recalled what it felt like to surf and I felt a deep sense of connection to riding waves that may never be lost despite how many months I spend away from the sea on my travels.
Remy was next, tag teaming daddy day care for the board and getting out there in board shorts to show me that this French surfer boy raised in Congo could still shred the lip, even tucking into a sneaky little closeout barrel and poking through the wave to claim a 'kinda' pit. After hours in the sun, with the kids screaming in joy as dolphins relentlessly bodysurfed the transparent waves, we packed up our gear and shuffled our sunburned pasty skin back to the car and home for one last family meal together for the month.
I feel like I went another layer deeper with Remy today, sharing this love of surfing that we have both grown up with but not yet had the opportunity to experience much together in our relationship.
As I kissed him goodbye this morning at Gold Coast Airport, my heart felt strong in our love and I bid him a great fucking trip.
See you in a few weeks babe. Ready for the next chapter.
Let's start with the cliche, 'home is where the heart is.' We made the journey back to Lennox Head, surprising the boys and then all their friends. Ryder nearly cried. Hunter almost peed his pants. Lennox is, after all, the longest place they've ever 'lived' despite the continuous moves and overseas travels. But what makes this place truly special is the group of friends the boys have made over the years, a group that I am certain will be in each others' lives no matter how far the distance, no matter how far each of them eventually roam.
The first day back I felt that familiar feeling of nostalgia. After six months away, it felt like we'd never left. The sultry air, the hypnotic sound of crashing waves, the birds at dawn that wake me for my sunrise walk to the point and early swim...By the second day, nostalgia had turned to a lump in my chest, a strange sensation that made me feel uneasy. For some reason that I am yet to fully understand, I have never felt completely 'at home' here in Lennox Head, and I began to question "why?" and try to uncover what might be wrong with me that I can not seem to just bunker down in one place. It only took a few moments to remind myself this line of questioning is indeed pure madness. I have learnt over the years of travel and through many experiences that being grounded in heart can allow you to feel at home all over the world.
With Remy's final days in Australia approaching - his visa is expiring this week and he's bound for New Zealand before we all meet in Montreal at the end of the month - we have been spending as much time visiting friends and catching rays at the beach as possible. The constant movement has been exhausting, so today we opted for a quiet visit out to local waterfalls with our dear friend Cade.
Cade is a beautiful young man with an old soul. Not only does he make the best chai in the world - this is no joke, we have crawled the globe searching for a better chai latte and we are yet to discover a better brew than his - but he is also one of the most grounded and inspiring individuals we have met along the path. A fellow traveller, both internally and externally, I could spend hours chatting with Cade and today we certainly did.
After a dip in the freshwater swimming hole, I felt completely energized, a stark contrast to the lethargy I felt after a morning in the sun at the beach. Last year upon return from huge travels overseas, I made a commitment to spend more time inland visiting waterfalls and connecting with the energy of the lush rainforest that surrounds us here in the Northern Rivers. These visits gave me an opportunity to hit refresh on Sundays, giving me a booster that would continue through for the rest of the week.
With Remy leaving for three weeks, our biggest separation since we met, I will be making regular waterfall visits a part of my weekly routine, knowing that how I fuel my body and mind is a matter of conscious choices that I am making every day, every hour, every minute, every breath.
It is this grounding of heart that gives me peace, and trust in the journey ahead.
First thing's first, I am committing to a solid effort to regularly blog from here on in.
So here's goes it. Rather than give a blow by blow update on the past six months of our Gypsy Journeys (go check out my YouTube channel and keep an eye out for more vids from our recent trip in Asia), let's just say for now that following our #crossingasia adventures, we landed back in Australia in early February and havebeen laying low in my hometown of Adelaide. By laying low I mean shaking our booties at Womadelaide and shooting some 360 video for my talented Aunty Evelyn Roth, reading a ton, indulging the festivities of the Fringe Festival, and frolicking in the dazzling Adelaide metro beaches.
Today, we packed up our Toyota Prius and once again hit the road. As of today, I am a homeless CEO, and I couldn't be happier. Our bigger goal is Montreal, Canada. Today is the first step in a short process to get us there. After 18months of learning and yearning in immersive media, I am slowly cooking up a dream start-up with Montreal-based creative super mama Paula Toledo. More to come on this, but in the meantime check out our instagram and twitter at @welltechinnov.
We kicked off the first of our two-day road trip from South Australia to New South Wales at 4am, with a solid 14hours of driving to land in Parkes for the night. Tomorrow we are off again at 4am, bound for Lennox Head, where we will be surprising the kids with a few weeks of catching up with friends whilst Remy gets kicked out of Oz (visa) to NZ and I begin logistical planning for Montreal.
Did I mention tomorrow we are off at 4am? I did, yep. Well, lucky for you, my droppy eyelids are begging me to log off, so I will spare you my shockingly crappy review of the Newell Highway Caravan Park - do not stay here, even in a cabin (we booked the family cabin for "2 adults and 2 kids" on booking dot com, then got pinged by the not-so-friendly Chinese owner for extra money for the kids)...
Bon nui (French spelling may not be on point).
We finally made it to Japan, touching down a couple weeks back just in time for my 35th birthday. In what was kind of an anti-climax to the #crossingasia voyage, we decided to fly to Japan from Chengdu, in China, instead of take the ferry from Shanghai to Osaka, because quite frankly we were running out of budget and the boat was significantly more expensive than flying.
As vegans, we were also starving in China, a country that is definitely not ready to adopt the concept of taking meat out of anything, let alone creating stand-alone vegetarian dishes or anything vegan. The decision to fly the last leg, after traveling almost the entire route across six countries overland (bar the India to Thailand flight - unavoidable) was completely sporadic. We were cold, almost broke, and hungry one afternoon in Chengdu after arriving by overnight train and a few scrolls of my Instagram feed's #japow hashtags, plus a quote from the ferry company (over $1000 for the four of us to travel 48hours from Shanghai to Osaka sleeping on the floor), was enough to have me searching, and booking, the flights.
To be honest, I wanted to get the boat, for half the price. But in life, sometimes we don't get what we want, we get what we need. Instead we high-tailed it to Japan, Remy and I spent two days in Tokyo together, without kids (who went to visit their father) for the first time in over three months, then we all took the bus to Hakuba and within days were shredding powder on the mountains and soaking in hot springs. The lesson: be strict, but flexible, in life, and thou shall be rewarded.
So this is just a quick post to say HI, we made it, and we are now busy editing all our vlogs from the trip and writing articles to post and share! The Freeride World Tour is also in Hakuba this week and I've been on the mountain doing some media work for Evergreen Outdoor Centre, excitedly soaking up the action from all the shredders in the village and keeping my eyes peeled for Travis Rice, who has received a Wild Card entry to the Main Event, which is currently on hold until the snow dumps next week.
Thanks for your patience with the Vlogs, they're coming, I promise.
The Pushkar Camel Fair had been on my 'to-do' list since I was the editor at Yahoo!7 Travel, when we'd create galleries and blogs about the world's craziest festivals. I'm not sure what attracted me the most at the time. Was it the cinematic elements of dressed up camels in the Rajasthani desert? Or was it the stories of gypsies gathering to trade their animals and enjoy the accompanying festivities? Probably both.
In the six years gone since those gallery-building days, I have turned vegan, and have a completely new outlook on dressing up animals for entertainment. Regardless, as fate would have it I found myself on a bus to Pushkar at the tail-end of the 'Mela', Remy and the kids, and my camera, in tow.
Held each November at the time of the Kartik Purnima full moon, Pushkar Camel Fair is quite the spectacle, attracting thousands of camels and their owners from all over the Indian desert region of Rajasthan, and visited by almost half a million people in just two weeks. Photographers and travel writers have long-documented this cinematic event, but I was intrigued to visit first-hand to witness both the carnival atmosphere and the camel vibes.
The fair is, admittedly, impressive. Seductive even. We arrive at dusk, and the light is a photographer's dream. As I rush around in the sand taking shots of the camels and their owners, I'm drawn to the community atmosphere oozing from the makeshift campsites of the traders. We are joined by a local Rajasthani musician whom we met in the market, who doubles as our guide and informant. He walks us through the hundreds of camels and humans and I'm in awe at the magnitude of this event.
On one side of the fairgrounds are food and trinket stalls; camel decorations hang from shop tents like tinsel from a Christmas tree. Flamboyantly decorated camels stand attached to ruby red wagons, aka camel taxis, waiting for the tourists (mostly domestic) to hop in for a ride around the desert. Camels have a unique personality that I can't quite grasp; solemn, perhaps, proud, perhaps, but I'm quite sure I didn't spot a happy camel among the throngs. I see one camel tied at the knees, screeching as its owners try to force it to the ground. Another is being dressed decorations through the nose, similarly resisting with all its vocal might. One more walks heavily through the sand transporting a 'healthy' family of Indians in the red taxi cab, the camel master whipping the animal's rear to keep her inline. The kids are perplexed; such a wonder to be surrounded by these mystical animals, but why do they look so sad? Empathy builds.
What we know about camels
"The earliest known camel, called Protylopus, lived in North America 40 to 50 million years ago (during the Eocene). It was about the size of a rabbit and lived in the open woodlands of what is now South Dakota. By 35 million years ago, the Poebrotherium was the size of a goat and had many more traits similar to camels and llamas. The hoofed Stenomylus, which walked on the tips of its toes, also existed around this time, and the long-necked Aepycamelus evolved in the Miocene.
The direct ancestor of all modern camels, Procamelus, existed in the upper Miocene and lower Pliocene. Around 3–5 million years ago, the North American Camelidae spread to South America as part of the Great American Interchange via the newly formed Isthmus of Panama, where they gave rise to guanacos and related animals, and to Asia via the Bering land bridge.
The last camel native to North America was Camelops hesternus, which vanished along with horses, short-faced bears, mammoths and mastodons, ground sloths, sabertooth cats, and many other megafauna, coinciding with the migration of humans from Asia.
Like the horse, before their extinction in their native land, camels spread across the Bering land bridge, moving the opposite direction from the Asian immigration to America, to survive in the Old World and eventually be domesticated and spread globally by humans. Most camels surviving today are domesticated. Along with many other megafauna in North America, the original wild camels were wiped out during the spread of Native Americans from Asia into North America, 12,000 to 10,000 years ago. Although feral populations exist in Australia, India and Kazakhstan, the only wild camels left are the wild Bactrian camels of the Gobi Desert." - Source: Wikipedia.
When should we transform tradition?
Years ago I joined my good friend and professional surfer Dave Rastovich to the south of Japan, filming for The Cove, a film that exposes the horrific annual dolphin drives and slaughters in Taiji, Wakayama. The night before our intended peaceful paddle-out ceremony to pay tribute to the dolphins who had lost their lives over the years in this eerie yet stunning bay, my ex-husband, Dave, Hannah Fraser and I found ourselves on a night-mission trip from Osaka to Taiji to meet with local fishermen and surfers to discuss the issue and potential solutions.
It has been clear to the dolphin hunters for many years now that the West does not support its capturing of dolphins for aquarium trade and the subsequent slaughter for meat that has now been well documented globally by the likes of Greenpeace and Sea Shepherd. And whilst Dave presented many alternatives for economic empowerment, including dolphin and whale watching, which would generate much more revenue for the fisherman and require far less physical output, the local consensus was made very clear: killing dolphins was their tradition and they weren't planning on stopping.
The irony of the Taiji saga is this: Japanese people don't eat dolphin. At least, not knowingly. Some eat whale as a delicacy, but those who consume dolphin are mostly unknown to the fact, with the meat sold under the term 'Whale Bacon', or being used for dog food and fertilizers. When The Cove was shown to Japanese citizens, many were shocked that the huntings were happening in Taiji at all and couldn't stomach the footage.
But despite the global attention that the film generated, the killings still continue, even under the watchful eye of the world. Tradition, for now, prevails.
So what fate lies in store for the camels of Rajasthan, with almost half a million festival-goers treading through the sands each year to get up close and personal with these intriguing creatures and their pom-pom adornments? Let's hope more love is offered their way and as with the slow demise of elephant riding in Thailand humans raise their awareness to appreciate these creatures without exploiting them .
What do you think? Should we transform tradition in respect for the animals? Have your say in the comments below.
Jaipur was our first destination of the 'Crossing Asia' adventure (with no planes, no plastics, and two kids!), and just a few days felt like a few weeks.
Arriving at midnight on Scoot Airlines from the Gold Coast via our layover in Singapore, I was not at all surprised to find our hotel transport was not there to greet us with a shady handmade sign bearing 'Angie Davis and Remy Richard' in smudgy black texta. Shame. Nevertheless, being my second trip to India, I had presumed this would be the case, and thus did not panic at all. Rather, it felt like the adventures were all beginning with the necessary 'happenings' (or 'not' happenings) that make India, well, that place you love and hate at every moment all at the same time.
Funnily enough the fixed-price registered taxi that we succumbed to directly out front of the airport exit doors offered us a cheaper price than the hotel had promised. Winning. We met our bobble-headed driver and were soon whisked away into Jaipur's rather fresh, orange-lit night air.
Ahh, India. It felt good to be back.
Compared to my first arrival in India eight years prior, when I was pregnant with Ryder (now sitting by my side with boggle eyes taking in this strange yet seductive place ), I had landed in Delhi, and started my trip scared shitless. This time around I felt seasoned. I knew how to do India. Come on, bring it.
Our hotel, unlike that last time in Delhi, was better than I had gauged from the booking.com photos when I had booked a few weeks earlier (I like to book a hotel for the first couple of days when arriving into a new city at night, period). It offered clean rooms, check, a rooftop restaurant, check, and toilet paper. Bonus! We liked to so much we extended our stay an extra night, staying three in total, and took to settling in to our new home, taking off for long days exploring the city.
Jaipur, in comparison to those years prior in Delhi, was, how can I put this, easy! Ok yes we were getting ripped off every time we breathed in a Tuk Tuk, and yes the streets were ear-piercingly noisy, dirty, and we counted more animals than we probably should have in the confinements of a major Indian city, but it was all so exhilarating and our movements all seemed to flow quite nicely. Heck, our Tuk Tuk driver (who we totally overpaid) even took us to a local textile factory where we saw men, yes men, stamping hand made fabrics with local dyes made from vegetables. For us vegans this was the jackpot!
Now if you've been following our journey on social media, you will 1. notice that this blog post is weeks behind the actual events (apologies, the WiFi access and time to sit and write has been, well, as thin as uncle Brenton's crew cut), and 2. that we are completing our trip using no plastic drink bottles. AKA, no PETs. Now this made for interesting hydration experiences in India. Think 40°C heat, warm tap water, and a UV filter that kills all the bad things, except, you guessed it, the taste.
Nevertheless I was proud of us for sticking to our plan from day one, hell if we had of caved on the first day I may as well have packed up and started flying all over the country (we are doing the trip with no planes, too), so I am happy we stuck to the plan.
You might also recall, if you're over the social airwaves, that I am attempting to daily VLOG, well as close to daily as possible, the entire journey. And lucky for you, the first two videos, shot in Jaipur, are edited and live on YouTube. Now if you'll forgive me I'd best be getting back to the five-week back log of edits so that I can keep slinging you some interesting content to view!
Follow the journey
Angie: @theaniccaway @angiedavisfilms
Joy, discomfort, fear and trust. Notes from the Himalayas.
Since arriving to India, beginning our four-month journey across Asia, I’ve felt fantastically in flow. Every day a wild adventure, full of action, education, inspiration and joy.
Two days ago we travelled 15hours with our driver Raj at night deep into the Himalayas, on potentially the most dangerous road on Earth. It was intense, but I felt no fear. Just frustration and pain, and a huge desire for comfort. Working through these intense emotions at 3am when every muscle of my body ached trying to hold my sick son in the back seat of a troopy whilst absolutely freezing my skinny little boobies off was challenging. Having both sons yell out ‘stop’ to the driver continuously along the way to vomit, was hard.
One of my great teachers, Guru Singh, says we can only grow from the space we have not previously occupied. He says: be comfortable in the uncomfortable. This is how we grow.
Tears filled my eyes at sunrise, as we passed the second-highest driveable pass in the world...I got my fucking period in a Himalayan Outdoor toilet with no paper, no water, and someone else’s giant shit looking at me from the squat bowl below. I thought I was done. But then I walked back to the makeshift tent where we’d stopped for chai and heat and saw my kids battling their altitude sickness with glassy eyes, and no whinging.
Those tough little ninjas made me pull my shit together. And a big cuddle from my love Remy - whenever one of us drops down, the other holds us up. We never crash at the same time. We’re good like that. The four of us. We’re a team. Each on our own individual journey, but each having the others’ backs. Our little internationally diverse family doing it our way.
Today, a simple thought caught some old rooted insecurities off guard, and instantly fear filled my mind, and subsequently my body. Fear about the future, questioning my self, my lover, money...what would come of all of this adventure?
Tears filled my eyes, and I felt ashamed. Ashamed that during the most intense, dangerous road trip of my life with my kids in tow I didn’t once feel fear, yet suddenly something so insignificant could set off a chain reaction of negative, self-sabotaging stories that could so quickly shift me out of my inner peace. I felt so ashamed I couldn’t communicate my feelings to Remy immediately, and watching his confusion was even more torturous. Communication is one of our greatest points together, and I was failing the team. More salt in the wound. Fear is a fucker like that.
He kissed my lips and sent me off to the shower, suggesting I finish off with ‘a coldie’; full power cold water for a minute or so. After the coldie I came back and clearly communicated my feelings. Instantly my fears were gone, as fast as they had arisen.
The answers to my questions were not answered. I don’t know what will come of all of this. I don’t know what will happen next, if money will come, if the kids can keep educating on the road, if I’ll write my book, if the other projects I want to work on will eventuate, if Remy and I will keep strengthening our love, if, if, if, if!
What I do know is that the ‘ifs’ will kill me.
Not trying, will trap me.
Not trusting, will break me.
Not loving, will destroy me.
In a couple days, we set off for Srinagar and Jammu, in Kashmir. The media says it’s unstable, the Australian government says do not travel there. The locals, of which we’ve met many here in Ladakh, say our route will be completely safe and the Kashmiris are welcoming travelers with open arms.
I don’t fear the journey.
It’s in the journey I feel most present.
It’s in the journey I overcome my self-sabotaging fears, and this is why I know deep down this path is the right one.
Trust in life, and life will flow through you abundantly.
That’s a simple little freedom.
Good night from the Himalayas xx
It all started with a plan to trek in Nepal to raise awareness for domestic violence survivors, and in a big way, experience the magic of the Himalayas with my kids as a voyage of healing for ourselves. But whilst in Nepal, it would be rude not to visit India, don't you think?
In the early days of dating my French boyfriend Remy, I had shared with him about the trek and he'd soon expressed interest in joining our adventures.
When tickets popped up for A$250 one way from the Gold Coast to Jaipur, it was set in stone. With four plane tickets booked, we would begin our journey in India, cross over into Nepal overland, and continue east across the largest continent on Earth, with no planes and no plastics, in an attempt to reduce our carbon footprint and just generally see more.
So here we are two days out from the beginning of our epic journey, #crossingasia from India to Japan, on a minimal budget, over a time frame of roughly four months and just a couple of rucksacks, a camera, a microphone, and a guitar. Oh, and two kids.
Until a week ago, we didn't even have backpacks, let alone good weatherproof gear - the kids and I had left all our snow wear in Japan awaiting the next season. And then there was the problem of clean drinking water and a pledge to not consume single-use plastics. How could we cross Asia - notorious for poor drinking water and choking with plastic waste - without consuming plastic PET bottles of water?
I reached out to Paddy Pallin and explained our cause, and the team loved the concept and offered a helping hand. So last weekend, Remy, the boys and I popped up to Brisbane, a mere three-hour drive from Byron Bay, to get fitted with new rucksacks for the trip, hydration packs for the kids, lifetime warranty socks to keep our sole transportation devices, our feet, warm and dry, and to pick up perhaps the coolest travel item I have ever owned, the SteriPen, a UV water filtration 'pen' that charges with a USB and over its lifetime saves the user from consuming 16,000 plastic bottles. Best yet, it has a lifetime warranty; if you reach the end of its 8,000 charge cycles, the company will replace your pen with a new one.
We Vlogged our journey up to Brisbane and a first-test of the SteriPen. Check it out below, and subscribe to my YouTube channel (and turn on notifications) to follow our journey as it unfolds in a couple of days.
Where do you go when all the beaches are blown out with putrid winds and the temperature hits 38 degrees Celsius? Inland. Last Sunday I dragged the tribe out of the cool comfort of our concrete floor rental studio for a three hour drive south in search of nature's best refresher, a waterfall.
The walk in was hot and full of flies but the falls and swimming hole were worth every minute. Now that the temperature is heating up dramatically, it's getting harder to find cold water to keep up our Wim Hof Method training, crucial for our goals to immerse in frozen lakes in bikinis and shorts in the Himalayas next month. Inland waterholes are always colder than the ocean or lakes near the sea, and these particular falls were incredibly refreshing and we all certainly felt recharged after a few hours playing in the pools.
Below is our VLOG from the day. If you want to see more of our journeys, go check out my YouTube channel and subscribe (with notifications on) to get the latest videos first.
It would mean the world to me if you would leave your feedback. What videos do you like best? What do you want to see more of? What topics other than travel would you like me to cover off in my Vlogs?
Thanks for the ongoing support.
5am Drive Remy to work
6am Yoga and Check emails
7am Cook vegan pancakes for the kids
8am Editing vlogs
9am Journey down to Broken Head Beach to join the Divine Goddess Yoga Products team on their campaign shoot, kids in tow (school holidays)
9-9:45am Shoot behind the scenes video footage for VLOG
10am Run off to pick Remy up from work (car sharing blues)
11am Start editing
12pm Start the rest of my work day
Mamas, struggling to find time? It's easy to fall into the cycle of excuses. Juggling shit can be hard, but we are truly capable of more than we realize.
Resilience is a double edged sword. It kept me in an abusive marriage for 10 years. Now it is the fuel I need to pack as much as I can into my days to achieve all I want, and can.
Life is not a rehearsal, it's happening now.
Be resourceful, start today, and start saying 'I can' instead of "I need more time."
Stay healthy, never compromise on health, but note that the fitter, stronger and healthier you become, the more energy you will have and energy = time.
Enjoy the Vlog!
Thank you Divine Goddess Yoga Products for inviting me to be a part of your campaign, the collection looks absolutely gorgeous.
Under promise, over deliver. A concept I've had to really learn over the years, where growing up my father always expected the best from me and heaven forbid I should fall short of perfect. It's a great practice though, to be sure of your promise, then deliver above that, and is relevant in all areas of life, from business to creative to relationships.
When Remy and I met, I was a single mum sole parent living in a tipi, with no possessions but a car, surfboard, books and a suitcase of clothes. I couldn't offer much materially, and raising two kids whilst running my own freelance creative business meant money wasn't quite abundant, but I do remember thinking (and I probably said it aloud): "I don't know where we're going together, and I have no expectations, but I promise you it won't be boring."
In four months we've lived together in my gypsy palace tipi, chased waterfalls, covered 8,000kms and 14 campsites in Far North Queensland, went to Sydney for a charity Gala with Tibetan and Japanese musicians, and in just over a month we start a four month journey #crossingasia between India and Japan, trekking the Himalayas, playing music with kids in rural schools, testing virtual reality, and trying to do it all without planes and plastic free. I'm not quite sure what's going to come from this trip, but intuition tells me it's going to be nothing short of boring.
I have been avoiding surfing like the plague. I am not kidding, it's actually got to the point where I don't think I can call myself a surfer anymore. Since I witnessed the shark attack and death of my friend Tadashi two years ago, I have struggled to get back into the daily flow of surfing. Excuses fill up easily, and I just have not managed to get back into the swing of things.
To be honest, it doesn't bother me much. I love surfing and it will always be in my life, I have simply lost the passion to surf everyday. I have yoga, creativity, and I still manage to jump in the ocean often, so I don't feel I am missing out.
I have pangs of guilt that I don't take my sons surfing anymore, as there was a time when I was religiously taking them to the beach every Saturday. Remy actually dragged me away from my laptop yesterday, and down to Broken Head, whilst I decided I would raise some low vibes and start whinging about the wind and the busy car park. It's funny how nature, and kids, can change your vibes in an instant - from one side to the other and reverse!
After lying on the beach for a while soaking up some sun - and secretly loving every minute of it - Ryder came and asked me if I would take him surfing. When your son asks you to take him surfing, you don't say no, ever. This is my 101 active mama rule and I stick to it. So, wind chop and all, out we waded into waist deep water and had an absolute ball.
I love creating content so much, and kick myself that I haven't been filming the past 10 years of my life, but it's never too late to share the journey and by committing to you guys to produce regular Vlogs and blogs, it actually inspires me to live more outside the box than ever!
So here is a little edit from our surf session, and a lovely reminder that sometimes the things you just don't want to do are what you need to do because you'll feel so much better after it. Surfing, yoga, meditation...just do it!
I have been editing our 360 vlogs from the Far North Queensland trip like a madwoman. It has been an exciting learning curve to be physically filming and editing in 360, and I am loving this medium for storytelling and teleportation.
On our recent visit to the north of Australia, we encountered some over-friendly kangaroos, with Ryder even having one jump straight over his head!
Check it all out in 360 video - move the cursor around to view the full sphere of footage, or if you are on mobile you can move your device around to take it all in. Don't forget to switch on HD, we shot these videos in 4K.
I have something to confess.
It’s hardly a secret for those of you following my social media, but if you’ve been living off the gram, you might have missed this one.
Ok here goes…
After four months living in tents, I caved, and on Saturday we were offered to move into a two-bedroom studio, and I accepted.
First reason, the rent was $8 more for a house than for an unpowered patch of grass, and since we returned from our trip north (360 travel videos coming soon) the caravan park had moved us from our large, shady spot opposite Lake Ainsworth, to an exposed, smaller site where we were getting smashed by rain, hail, wind, sun, and other humans.
Second reason, the food and kitchen boxes had started to do my head in. Perhaps it was simply that following our three-week trip north, where we pitched our tents in 14 different locations, I was exhausted and wanted to come home to a ‘holiday’, where cooking for my family (which I love doing) didn’t mean trudging around a caravan park with a gas stove, gas bottle, two kitchen boxes, especially in the pouring rain or brutal winds. For some reason, it all seemed so much easier until a week ago.
Third reason, with seven weeks to go before our epic #asiacrossing where we will cross seven countries from India to Japan over three plus months, I need to buckle down into my laptop and smash some work, edit videos and start Vlogging (YouTube channel launching in September!), and start selling off our accumulated ‘stuff’ (again) before we hit the skies.
So yeah, the timing was impeccable. I hadn’t even considered moving until that morning, and followed through with a spontaneous message to a friend whose empty studio Remy (my boyfriend) had been painting. We moved in the same day.
In a matter of days, with my Ninja blender plugged in to power finally, I had made batches of organic almond milk, bliss balls, salsa, macadamia butter, and daily smoothies, nurturing my family from the luxury of a small kitchen and feeling like a mum-boss. Not to mention how much work I’ve been getting done.
But, there are things I miss profoundly about living in a tipi, like waking up to jump in the cold lake, hearing the birds, and sleeping on the ground. In fact, since moving to a bed, like a ‘real’ one off the ground with a thick mattress, inside a bedroom with four walls and a roof, I have had the worst sleeps this year. Interesting right! Not to mention we go to bed much later, which is good on one hand – I’m being more productive – but on the other hand I feel my body is being stimulated by artificial lighting and thus making it harder for me to fall asleep.
The kids love having a TV, but at the same time they’re being boisterous around the house, jumping off furniture and they even tried to create a slide out of a didgeridoo. The difference is clear: when we lived at the caravan park, the tents were simply bedrooms, for sleeping, and the outdoors, nature, was their home. They played outside from sun up until sun down, minus the time they spend at school, but in a house the temptation to be inside, watching TV, and ultimately getting ‘bored’ easily makes for chaos.
I am so grateful for the four months we lived in tents. What I learned about simplicity, sustainability, and also about myself, could not have been taught to be without actually living the experience. There is no doubt in my mind that one day I will buy some land, build myself a little cabin with a sleeping deck surrounded by glass walls, a bed on the floor, and space for me to pitch a tipi whenever I want to be closer to nature. I’m consciously walking outside to stand in the grass barefoot, something we were doing throughout the day when we were camping but when you are in a house you can’t ‘earth’ as easily what with concrete, tiles, carpet and floorboards.
But one of the most important lessons, a recurring theme throughout these recent years of transformation, is to not get too attached to a place, for your life can change in a breath. We are making the most of the comforts of a house before we hit the unknown road, where we will venture to the depths of the Himalayas, working closely with the Australian Himalayan Foundation and women’s refuges like Her Farm Nepal, across India, Nepal and Bhutan, before heading East crossing into China, Mongolia, Korea and finally Japan, my kids’ second land of origin.
What follows that adventure we are yet to be sure, but one thing we do know is that the more we live outside the box, the more we grow, and the more we grow, the more we live our most authentic selves.
Check out the first in our 360 Vlogs from the Far North Queensland trip! What do you think?
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