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Tag: travel

Regular readers will know that my relationship with my mother was fraught, to say the least. It was characterised by restriction and control and violence. And fear. An overwhelming fear that I was not safe, would never be safe. And that I was not enough. Would never be enough. Of course, this is was from the perspective of a child but some 50 years later, I still bear the scars — scars that still weep with blood and tears in the right situation, which — usually and invariably — involves a man because attachment.

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In my last post waaaaaaaay back at the beginning of November, I mentioned that I would be in Vietnam for at least three months, volunteering at KOTO, a social enterprises that trains poor and disadvantaged youth in hospitality. My reasons for being here have been well documented, but for those of you who want the Reader’s Digest version, it goes something like this: I visited Vietnam in 2010, and as part of the tour I was on, we ate lunch at KOTO. I was so impressed, that I vowed to come back one day and volunteer. That day is now. I

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Fuck It Right Off. After a year of wandering around in a work desert, with a brief respite in only one or two oases, I’m checking out. And by checking out, I mean checking in. For the last three months, I’ve been back in a marketing communications role. Finally, after close to nine months, I thought I’d found my home. That I could relax. Nothing could be further from the truth. After working my butt off for the last three months, putting my hand up to help out my immediate team (who by the way, are wonderful and I respect

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After being in India for a few days shy of a month, I am reminded again how travel is a metaphor for life. This trip was every bit as challenging and rewarding as I thought it would be. I came to India with an open mind. I expected nothing and was richly rewarded. I saw Bengal tigers and elephants on safari in the south of India, I witnessed the altruistic efficiency of a huge communal kitchen in the north, and I rubbed shoulders with locals on trains and tuk-tuks in both the north and south. I saw equal proportions of both

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The Diane Lee Project will be quiet for a couple of weeks because I will be in India. As always though, I’ll blogging over on my travel blog, the Travelling Homebody if you’d like to follow my escapades*. I’ll probably be posting pics to Instagram and tweeting too. Keep an eye out for a post on Valentine’s Day about the first book in the Love & Other Stuff series…! See you when I get back. * “Escapades” make me sound much more exciting than I actually am. I’m really quite the nanna when I’m away. Early to bed and early to

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This is the second part of My ten favourite purchases, which I started writing waaaaaaay back in the beginning of July. 6. My degrees In 1989, when I was 26, I left full-time employment and enrolled in an Arts degree at The University of Adelaide. Coincidentally, 1989 was when the Australian (Labor) Government decided (in its wisdom… not) to charge its students for attending university. I think I paid about $800 per semester per subject back then, but it’s risen quite steeply since, with the cost dictated by the degree being studied. Arts and teaching: not so much; medicine, law

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I’m a late starter. I’ve only just got a passport at the ripe old age of 46. I’ve always wanted to travel, but in my late teens and twenties I was too busy exploring my immediate world to worry about going further afield. It was the 80s, man, and there was so much fun to be had right on my doorstep! At 29, I had my daughter. And was a solo parent, so had to worry about keeping a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. Overseas travel was a pipe dream, not to mention impractical! So I

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