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A man riding a horse and a stretch limosine in New York City.
I Love New York
They say you become a New Yorker when you cry on the subway for the first time. Or when you get flashed on the subway for the first time. By both standards, I’ve been a New Yorker since 2010, and I’ve become a New Yorker many times over since then. Despite the tears and testicles,…
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…
This is Home — For Now
Fresh off the plane, a trail across the world left on the maps, I walk through the picturesque German town I have chosen as the location for my future stories. I'll walk these streets past bright coloured houses with wooden shutters as I fight to earn that expensive piece of paper in endless hours of…
When Itchy Feet Turn Cold
Uncomfortably curled up between two armrests, I hear the pilot announce that in just under seven hours, I’ll be landing back home. The weight of a month’s worth of travel weighs on my shoulders and eyelids, forcing me into a much-needed but interrupted sleep. Each time my eyes flutter open, I’m a few minutes closer…

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.