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Activism, Wanking and Saving the World
Predicting the impending apocalypse is no longer just a game for those dogmatic Mayans. Random Instagram pages on a quest to expose 5G, the reptilian elite and adrenochrome-addicted pedophiles have also joined the party. And even more surprisingly, modern science has also decided to chime in with its very own version of a doomsday prediction.…
Lonely in a Sea of 8.9 Million
The groggy fog of your afternoon nap begins to dissipate. The thundery rumble of an ignored stomach calls you to action, and when the gnawing reaches fever pitch, you know it’s time to go. Of course, because you’re not a local, you don’t know where. The suggestions of a previous traveller, a close friend, ring…
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…
When We Were Six: An Ode to My Youth
I was six, and we were the sun and the moon, radiant and bright. Riv had inky black hair, eyes like wet mud smeared across gold and an olive complexion, stars sprinkled across her flesh in the form of freckles. I stood next to her, hair closer to white than blonde, porcelain skin and eyes…
Here Is Good
I stare out the plane window at the twinkling lights in the darkness below. That’s Japan down there. Hitting the ground feels like victory: a life’s dream of coming here fulfilled in the matter of seconds. With a big smile despite my tired eyes, I step out of the arrival gate and drink in the…
One Step at a Time: Trekking Kokoda at Age 15
Long days. Cold nights. Fatigue and loneliness. Standing in the harsh sun, I’m surrounded by walls of tall jungle. Staring ahead at a steep overgrown path that never seems to end, I hyperventilate. Time passes with each step. My breathing softens as we make it to the summit. I wonder whether I’d be better off…
Where Air is Water
I wish I had taken ballet as a kid. The pirouettes I force myself into, avoiding seemingly inevitable collisions with scooters and cars, on roads that have no sidewalks to speak of and drains wider than a cat is long, would make my grandmother proud. Add to that the scrapes on my hand and pride…
Travelling When Broken: A Memoir
I am sobbing as surreptitiously as I can in a scungy Indonesian bathroom, clutching two strawberry daiquiris bigger than my head. My cleavage is blistering beneath someone else’s Bintang and outside, Rihanna is shrieking at some fleshy Western youths to “WOOOOORK!” as they jump frantically under orange strobes. I want to stab myself in the…

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.