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Feature
Fucking My Oppressors
Here I am, on my knees for a white man. Throwback to 50 years ago, and the context of this statement would have meant I was about to be beheaded, or shot, or whatever else occurred during the Vietnam war. But it’s 2020, and as the world slowly comes to terms with the breadth of its…
5 minRead time
Current Affairs
Why Do We Scoff at Arts Degrees?
Last week, the government announced its plans to slash the costs of the uni degrees it deems most essential in our current economy – namely teaching, nursing, agriculture, science, mathematics and engineering. So far so good. Youth unemployment has skyrocketed to 16.1% because of the virus, and the government is going to increase the number…
7 minRead time
Story
The Last Cigarette
Nothing ever changes where I’m from. It’s small-town forgotten suburbia where fuck all happens and everything stays the same. No one knows where they’re going – we just know we want out. We claw at the lip of the sewer lid, only to fall back in, left to sizzle out in a cesspit like a…
7 minRead time
Bali Story
A Balinese Quest for Magic Mushrooms
When people say drugs are a gateway, their minds often jump straight to visions of calamity and misfortune. More often than not, drugs provide a gateway to the next adventure. An escapade you would never have possibly found yourself on, had it not been for the quest to alter your reality. In my case, on…
8 minRead time
Japan Story
Rush Hour Sucks Everywhere
In Tokyo, rush hour extends to 8pm. Not because of systemic inefficiency, but simply because lots of people work later than 6 o'clock. And I am one of those unlucky folk. When I was back home in Perth -- behind my steering wheel in bumper-to-bumper traffic, dreaming of life in Tokyo and cursing…
9 minRead time
Story
How to Travel and Tell No One What Happened
I’m on the streets of Paris. It’s July 14th, Bastille Day. It has been 230 years since the unsettled French populace murdered a bunch of bootlickers and displayed their blood-stained heads on metal spikes. Where the Bastille once stood is now a despondent construction site. Replacing the jeers of angry peasantry is the mechanical beeping…
7 minRead time
Feature
Prick Prick Boom
I was 12 or 13 years old when I had my left arm intentionally broken by racist, highly privileged white kids at the school I was going to. And by broken arm, I mean broken. I was in a cast for three months. Though I’d been bullied for years, at the time, I didn’t even…
10 minRead time

Astray is a storytelling project centred on travel, place, culture and identity.

We’re 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.