Five months ago I had the idea for the Journal, and I am pleased with its progress. My plan for the first six months was to establish the website, publish 20 to 30 articles from a half a dozen people, establish a social media presence and set up a subscription model. These objectives have all been achieved. I offer my sincere thanks to those who have taken the time to write articles, share photos and offer advice along the way. I would like to particularly thank Dan Mitchell at CMBN who built much of the website (especially the invisible bits) and taught me everything I know about managing a site.
The next six months are about growing the site – tuning it for search engine optimisation, more social media presence, cross-referencing to other sites and digital channels. I will also start sending monthly newsletters. For me, it will be continued learning-by-doing. And I can’t do it alone. So please, spread the word, encourage people to subscribe. And keep writing – your articles and insights are the oxygen that the Journal breathes.
Below are a few of my favourite travel pics from 2025, and a tribute to a travelling companion – we all know someone like this.
Elegy to the Patron Saint of Village Idiots
He wanders from village to village with his stout stick and modest sack of possessions. Clowns and fools bow in reverence. His mangled utterances draw an instant crowd. Children follow him just to see what he will do next. So goes the legend.
But you know him. This is your friend who stumbles over a tree root and cracks his sunglasses. Who fills his water bottle from the bathroom tap despite repeated warnings not to do so, and requires frequent comfort breaks for the rest of the day. Who slides into the back seat of a taxi and, having rehearsed the intended phrase many times, asks the driver if his uncle has a whistling cow.
We have all travelled with this person and he makes the journey so much more enjoyable. (I say ‘he’ because it is invariably a male.) He makes all the faux pas so you can avoid them. He inadvertently diverts attention to himself during tense moments, thus providing relief to others. He is courageous in his attempts to learn the language but mispronounces words, delighting and amusing the locals. He can be dangerously clumsy. He talks a lot. But above all, he is wonderful company and he creates memories.
Steve is a former Army officer and technology manager, now semi-retired and living in Melbourne. He enjoys adventurous travel and believes that good stories should be shared. He founded the Dusty Boots Journal as a means to connect those with similar interests.