This evening I walked beneath a row of bay trees in Alberobello, pausing to smell their sweet aroma. I lifted my feet to stand on tippy toes and tilted my face towards the sky. A new friend and unofficial local tour guide laughed at me, “ma cosa fai?”

Today I drank a dark Italian espresso, and I couldn’t help but to smile as the bitterness turned sour in my mouth as I walked back out onto Corso Buenos Aires. I eavesdropped on conversations, ate panzerotto fritto and got lost in sweet laneways somewhere between Duomo and le Colonne…

We drove up from Jurien Bay, stopping at Dongara for fuel, Geraldton for lunch, roadside for photos taken standing atop the roaring ute’s cab for a clearer view.

I find being in transit such a strange act – to start the day in one place and end it in another.

Flippered feet already hanging precariously over the edge, I leap down below and the saltwater hugs me like an old friend.

Here though, in Ubud and its surrounding villages, it’s crazy. Total madness, nearly all the time and to get those amazing shots, you really have to work. You have to walk with the viewfinder held to your eye, waiting for that perfect moment, hoping not to trip.

12 hours layover in Brisbane feat. a quick stop for coffee, a few lazy hours in the City Botanic Gardens with some friendly Water Dragons, and a few words jotted down in a perfectly boring inner-city food court.

2 days getting lost in Los Angeles.
5 days at the indescribable Yeah! Field Trip.
2 days getting distracted by our cameras on Highway 1.
2 days drinking coffee in San Francisco.

You have to come back to Australia in the summer. You wake up in the morning with nothing more than a white sheet to cover you and this feeling of warmth in your bones.