It’s been said before that no man is an Island. That may well be true, but I am for certain an Island man. That Island is Australia, and for better or worse  I’m bound to it. I’ve broken these bonds for not inconsiderable periods of time, longer than many, perhaps the majority. But these days Australia, and more specifically Sydney is where I call home, and I’m under house arrest. OK, let’s not be too dramatic. Australia is amongst the most visited places in the world, and with good reason. There’s much about this old place I still love. The buzzing multiculturalism  of the big cities and the old world Australiana of the small towns. The clean, cold water of the beaches and rivers and the crisp, parched countryside that lines the nation’s roadways. But being a small business owner gives you a certain kind of freedom whilst taking away several others. I’m my own boss and the boss of a few others, I can sleep late if I want to and finish early if I organise it. But take a holiday? Not likely. Travelling through much of my 20’s was a life changing experience. I lived overseas for 6 years and consider it a crowning achievement. I returned home a while back for a new grown up chapter, bought my first car, got hitched, started a business, that sort of thing. But the travel pangs remain. For the foreseeable future though, I’m staying put.

So here I am, combining a few passions. Movies, books, music, foreign culture and writing. The erstwhile tourist is perhaps a bit of a vanity project. It speaks to no particular demographic or fan base. It’s basically me geeking out and chronicling it for future reference. If I pick up a few followers along the way then all the better. So have a read, the place you call home might be up next!

Ricky Jones