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The Dark Side of Voluntourism
Before our bags were packed our egos were boosted. Our air was shrouded in arrogance. Friends, family and strangers fuelled our vanity: what we were doing was "inspirational" and "selfless". The trip began to sound groundbreaking, like we were superheroes, and I bought it. I bought it until I stepped off the bus. We arrive…
Why We Need to Get Our Tits Out
There were boobs. So many boobs. Saggy, perky, big and small, in a myriad of shapes, sizes and colours, but with plenty of tanned skin; fitting for the beaches of Barcelona, Spain. I was a tad shocked, but immediately impressed by the lack of giving a fuck about your body. Young women chatted as they…
The Taxi Driver of Podgorica
Touch down in Podgorica Airport. The chill of Eastern European air encourages the hairs on my arm to stand in formation. Small pools of sweat slowly form underneath my black polar-fleece turtleneck after lugging my suitcase across the European continent. We’ve flown from Zurich to Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro, and the sleek Swiss charm…
Reluctantly Dancing on Space Cakes
"The game is called Presidents," one of the French girls is saying, gesturing excitedly the way people explaining card games do, her words coming to me through a haze of smoke. "And the aim of the game is..." But I can't catch what she's saying. Right now, I'm the dumbest, slowest version of myself, my…
A Universal Language
Stickiness glues every inch of my clothes to me. Blaring sun blinds me from all directions. Wine fumes leave no room for fresh air on this street. A bead of sweat slides down my face to land on my upper lip. It tastes slightly of stale wine. I turn a corner and can finally see…
Lessons from Japanese Love Dolls
Hi, I’m interested in your collection. *Delete Delete Delete*  Hello, I would like to come and see your dolls. *Delete Delete Delete*  Maybe I should write this in Japanese. Wait, who the fuck is this email even going to. Ok, ok, let’s just Google translate a few ideas. English to Japanese has me feeling…

Astray is run by a team of writers who mostly live, work and play in nipaluna / Hobart. With reverence, we acknowledge the Tasmanian Aboriginal people as the traditional and ongoing custodians of trouwunna / lutruwita / Tasmania: land that was stolen and never ceded. We pay our respects to Elders past, present and emerging.