As tempting as it is to wear dayGlo clown shoes, one must, never.

Ever.

DayGlo clown shoes?

So, there's no denying the awesomeness of being a freelance writer.

There are ups and downs.

From time to time, on my travels, I've needed to make a run for it to get 'that' shot.

The Canon EOS 7D and lens were fine ... my dignity less so

But one should always be mindful of the (very) expensive camera equipment we employ to get the money shot.

Point in case, an assignment in Hawke's Bay where I took a nasty spill while carrying a very expensive camera and lens. Fortunately I possessed the sense of mind to flip onto my back before hitting the turf to provide plenty of cushioning before striking ground zero.

No cameras or lenses were injured in the pursuit of this end.

Just my dignity.

That took a battering and was lovingly captured by a fellow reporter.

I don't much like water.

This is not me. I was not nearly as elegant.

It's more that I don't like being fully immersed in wetness ...

Eating spiders is pretty much the grossest thing this side of Alaskan stinkheads.

I'm wearing black 'cos my taste buds are about to die

THE tuk-tuk driver fails to mention the complimentary leg wax as we haggle over price.

Where do I start?

Nothing a schmeer of creamcheese can't remedy

I was in Melbourne writing a city guide.

This particular night I was going to a local hot spot to check out a burlesque show.

If someone tries to flog you a yodelling pickle, don't fight it.

I should have bought it ...

ACCORDING to the 80s camp anthem from the musical Chess, “One Night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster.”
Or not.

I’d never drawn a tampon before.

The calm before the storm

But now, here, drenched to the bone and desperate, in a Vietnamese chemist shop, I realized that my rendering of one held an uncanny resemblance to a mouse without legs.

On a day trip to Nikko, we reach the zenith of Japanese politeness.
The journey involves four trains and a bus and a public transport meltdown . . . almost.

It's all fun and games 'til someone gets the jelly on

The short version is don't eat jellyfish ... or maybe I just experienced a decidedly unsettling variety.

This was one of those special moments where you would rather disappear up your own behind, rather than face the reality that you have been a magnificent arse-hat and done something spectacularly stupid.

One of the kind gentlemen who came to my rescue

I was in northern Hawke's Bay photographing driftwood for a story I was writing. After trudging for kilometres up and down the beach I decided it would be far easier if I just drove along the beach.

And this is what happened.

Enough said.

So, I was killing time on the train editing my latest story and as I often do I was chewing on my pen.

Don't chew pens

There's really nothing to add to this post.

Needless to say, an ink cartridge full of black ink exploding in my face did not find its way on to the list of attractions and activities I was writing for my 'Insiders Guide to Sydney'.

I had to walk through Sydney CBD like this in peak hour.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.

How awesome is this Llama?

Best? Who doesn’t love a weekend getaway to Byron Bay to write about food and wine and Scotch. Wise? Because I had finally discovered whisky and felt all mature and clever, sipping away like a grown-up. Foolish? Because I grossly misjudged its potency and after several glasses decided to shimmy the farmstay's fence and ride their Llama.
 

As with so many things in life, it seemed a good idea at the time… ignoring the signs and feeding the wildlife at Lake Burley Griffin in Canberra.

Do not be fooled

But hindsight is a wonderful thing. No sooner had I flicked the aspic off the pate than a swarm of geese attacked.