Steeped in History

On July 19, 2026May 29, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

As the wheels of the QantasLink A220 kissed the tarmac of Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport, I could not help but feel that the week I spent in Tasmania was but a fleeting dream. Albeit, one marred by the fact we were in a holding pattern for upwards of thirty minutes due to unfavourable conditions. Yet even though it was primarily a transit day and my step count did not quite crack the ten thousand standard, there was still much for my family to see and do.

Our day started early as we packed and checked out from the hotel we were staying at. Though it was a little touch and go, with so many personalities to manage – especially my elderly Popo – we were on the road just before 10 AM. And though there was no one manning the reception desk, we were still able to return the key in the drop-off box.

Given that our flight back to Sydney was late in the afternoon, we were able to take our time on the drive to Launceston. Though there had been concerns the day before about spotfires due to the intense heat, by the time we set out, they were all being sufficiently managed. I saw neither flame nor flicker along our route. Nor were we diverted from the main highway.

Though there had been chance aplenty to have visited the townof Richmond earlier on the trip, my stepfather had been adamant we would only visit upon our return. A somewhat irksome request given the free time we had the day before. Nonetheless, there was no point in being needlessly contrary. I was to get my wish, regardless.

A historic Georgian town in the Coal River region, Richmond sits to the north east of Hobart. It is home to a scenic bridge and Australia’s oldest existing colonial gaol (pronounced like jail. It should be noted this is also slowly becoming the default spelling even here in Australia for the sake of simplicity).

More importantly, Richmond was alos home to Old Hobart Town. A specialist museum containing a historical model of what Hobart used to look like in centuries past while also featuring several fun figurines. These included a woman beating a snake, a boy falling from a tree, a hunter skinning a kangaroo and the ever elusive Tasmanian Tiger. But what I enjoyed most about the historical model was how easily it mapped onto the modern Hobart I had explored the day before as it was constructed from actual plans that were available.

From lashings and public hangings to merchants going about their day, each of the little people on display had their own story to tell. I definitely felt like I had stepped back through history and seeing the Hobart from yesteryear relative to the modern city I had come to know over the last few days.

Just down the street from Old Hobart Town was nestled Richmond Gaol. By the mid 1820s, Richmond was the third largest population centre in Tasmania and it soon became necessary for a local goal to be established to deal with those who committed offences while employed on public works or on surrounding rural properties.

When it opened its doors, W J Speed, an ex schoolmaster, became Richmond’s first gaoler. For approximately thirty years, it remained in service, with a steady stream of convicts entering its doors for a variety of offences. And while it was no Port Arthur, Richmond Gaol had it own vibrant history.

In 1853, transportation of convicts ceased and the gaol became a watch-house. In 1861, it came under control of the local municipal police. Use of the gaol continued to decline and it finally closed its doors in 1928. In 1971, it was registered as an historic site and has been privately leased since 1987.

On my self-guided tour of the gaol, I had a look at the many different cells and the individual stories of the inmates found within. I also enjoyed looking at artefacts from the time like the draught board and learning what the daily rations for each prisoner was.

Upon seeing my fill, I headed back out to rejoin the rest of my family, who had decided to forgo the trip into the gaol proper and had taken up residence at a local cafe. Once I’d caught up with them, we headed over to the Richmond Bridge – the oldest stone span bridge in the whole of Australia.

While all of these locations were all in close proximity, my family did shift our hire car further up the street to minimise how far we would need to push my Popo down the road in her wheelchair. Contributing, to my great dismay, to the lower number of steps taken throughout the day.

After we had seen our fill of Richmond, we headed straight for Launceston. Though I would have preferred for us to stop by Grindelwald (yes, there is a town in Tasmania called Grindelwald. I was surprised too), it was a little out of the way for the family. As such, we did not get to enjoy the Swiss-style village and its charming shopping arcade.

Instead, we waited for an inordinately long time at the airport in Launceston before we were finally allowed to check-in and go through security. By then, I’d made a decent dent through all the CaitVi fanfiction I was reading, as well as Hamnet, which I had on my ebook.

Though Tasmania is naught but an hour and a half from Sydney via plane, the six day family trip felt like a much needed adventure. After my mother and stepfather decided to reside in China for the last two years, it was good to venture out together with all four members of our household. While we did not quite escape the usual arguments and frustrations that comes from being all too familiar, it was still a nice change of pace.

And for someone (me) who hasn’t been to Tasmania, it was good to see the various locales of our southernmost state. Admittedly, it is still quintessentially Australian but there’s something about the cities that make them strikingly different to the likes of Sydney, Melbourne or even Brisbane. Everything, at least to me, feels more condensed. Nature sits right next to the bustling hubbub of the central business district.

Could it do with some more impressive shopping centres?

Perhaps.

But maybe the very fact Hobart and Launceston lack an impressively large Westfields is actually one of their many charms. And its their small local businesses that has won over the hearts and minds of those who live there and the tourists who come to visit.

That or it’s the seafood.

Throat of Hobart

On July 5, 2026May 16, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

As the sun crested the horizon, filtering through the slants of the blinds, I awoke to another day in the capital city of Tasmania. Without a list of locations to visit, our family decided for a lazier slower-paced adventure on our second last day. Our first stop? Mount Wellington.

According to Wikipedia and sources on the internet, Mount Wellington sits at an elevation of 1,271 metres. Occasionally, it will be covered by snow, even in summer, though when we ascended, this was not so. Albeit, it was still a good ten degrees lower than Hobart itself. More importantly, the windchill factor meant the outside temperature felt like it was plummeting fast. And I, in my infinite wisdom, had not brought along a jacket or windbreaker.

Originally named ‘Table Mountain’ it was renamed in 1832 in honour of the Duke of Wellington. Charles Darwin, father of evolution, also embarked on a climb in February 1836, and had remarked on the flora and fauna he found.

The road up to the summit was long and winding. Along the way, we stopped midway to look out over the sprawling harbour city before continuing back up. It was not until we reached the summit that I realised how underdressed I was. Still, I braved the winds, clambering up on rocks to snap as many of the natural scenery around me. While other tourists had chosen to balance on rather precarious rocks, I chose the more prudent and solid patches of ground. After all, it makes little sense to me to exchange my life for a passingly ‘decent’ photograph.

Beyond a strange tripod like structure that most everyone was flocking to, the one structure that caught my eye was the BAI Transmission tower. Made from concrete, it towers at about 130 metres. The construction of this tower was part of a movement towards statewide broadcasting.

With the wind chipping away at any resources of heat left in my body, I finally took shelter in the Pinnacle Observation Shelter. Though the day was slated to hit a high of 31 degrees Celsius, the mountain was far colder. Understandable given its height and the fact the summit of the mountain has a tundra climate. Before too long, I was joined by my family as we looked out over Hobart and took several shots of the city from our higher elevation.

Once we had explored every inch of the summit (bar the walking and fire trails), we headed back down. My hope, at the time, had been to visit the MONA. Even though it would not be open, I thought there might be an opportunity to see the outside facade so I could take a photo of the outside. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. We were stopped by a security guard redirecting any who ignored the ‘Closed’ sign atop the carpark entrance.

Lunch was at a small cafe near the MONA called 52 South. Reliant on the reviews on Google, I’d only skimmed the menu. It was not until we were wheeling Popo in on the wheelchair that I understood that while it was a cafe, it was also a Sri Lankan restaurant. This, however, did not serve as a deterrent (something most East Asians like my Popo might not have appreciated) and we ate our fill.

As the morning stretched into the afternoon, my stepfather and Popo were keen to return to the hotel. I, however, still wanted to explore the city proper. Thankfully, my stepfather was amenable to dropping my mother and I off. Hopping out, my mother and I hurried indoors to the closest shopping centre in the heart of Hobart.

The first was Centrepoint. A shopping mall with speciality retailers, it had a Dymocks that I quickly found myself browsing through. More importantly, it had public toilets my mother and I took advantage of. I was also curious about the Tassie Makers Market store but found nothing of interest on its shelves that would suit my souvenir needs. In fact, given Hobart is just another city in Australia, most of the souvenirs simply did not pass muster as being unique enough to warrant purchasing for my various friends.

Albeit, perhaps I ought to have taken a longer look at the gift shop in Port Arthur. Surely there might have been something I could have brought home to say I had been to the former penal colony.

From Centrepoint, my mother and I meandered towards the shopping arcade opposite: Cat & Fiddle. As we toured the shops, we slowly made our way to Elizabeth Street Mall. Once I’d sufficiently judged their rather lacklustre collection (though I did buy a Funko Pop of Senshi from Dungeon Meshi and agonised over whether or not to buy a few more packs of DIsney Lorcana (at time of writing this post in May, Wilds Unknown has just released and I managed to snag ALL the legendaries in just TWO booster boxes AND be blessed with Jack Jack. While it was not the Enchanted I wanted, nor the Iconic, the odds of pulling cards was significantly better than any previous set. Here’s hoping I get lucky again with Attack of the Vine).

Before heading back, my mother and I also took a detour to Area 52, a game store not too far from the shopping mall. Though my mum was less than impressed, I had wanted to see what merchandise they had on sale and was impressed by their wide selection of fantasy and science fiction novels to the board games on display. While I chose not to purchase MORE Disney Lorcana, I knew that if I were to ever revisit Hobart again, I knew exactly where I ought to head.

With the afternoon swiftly fading, my mother and I decided it was best to head back to our hotel. Instead of trying our luck with the public transport, we walked back (getting in valuable steps). Thankfully, much of the earlier heat had abated and it was a ismple trek down Sandy Bay Road to reach the hotel we had booked for our stay.

Thus ended our sojourn into the city. While I would have preferred a visit to the MONA or another museum close by, I still managed to satisfy my itch to explore the city.

Tomorrow, we would be heading back to Sydney. But first, we would need to drive all the way back to Launceston…

I’m An Internet Blogger, Get Me Out Of Here!

On June 12, 2026April 25, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Being a well-travelled veteran, I’m not overly wedded much to the idea of seeing absolutely everything on offer. For one, I have, what you might call, particular tastes. But the secondn reason is that I prefer making sure my relationships wiht others is placed above the need to be difficult. A wisdom I hoped to impart on my mother with rather middling success.

Granted, there is nothing wrong with seeing everything within a given area (if there is sufficient time and interest) but occasionally, one should do advance research before imposing their wants on an entire adventuring party. And this is where I felt my mother fell short when it came to our day trip to the Tasman peninsula where Port Arthur, renowned for being a penitentiary to early convicts in Van Dieman’s land along with the 1996 massacre, was located.

A UNESCO World Heritage historic site, Port Arthur is considered one of the best preserved convict settlements in Australia. Established in 1830 as a timber-getting camp, for three long years, convicts were expected to produce sawn logs for government proejcts. From 1833, it was used as a punishment station for repeat offenders from all the Australian colonies.

The system Port Arthur used was one modelled on discipline and punishment, religious and moral instruction, classifcation and separation, training and eudcation. This was evident in the grounds my family got to exploring. From the convict church to the farms and the various other buildings kept in good repair. In fact, by 1840, there were more than 2.000 individuals who lived at Port Arthur.

It closed finally in 1877 with many of its buildings dismanteld or destroyed. Others were sold and the area gradually became the centre of anew town named Carnarvon. Yet first-hand stories of convict life proved to be a major drawcard. By the 1920s, convict-period buildings had become museums, hotels and shops. The settlement was once again named Port Arthur and has become a key tourist destination for the whole of Tasmania.

And it was one of the main draws, at least to me, for taking a trip down to the southern state for a brief holiday in the last month of summer.

The visitor centre was an impressive modern entry into Port Arthur. After purchasing our tickets, we paid a visit to the gallery underneath where a scaled model was there for all to admire. I took particular interest in the exhibits featuring an apothecary set and the surgical equipment of the time. But the one my mother engaged with the most were the stories of the different convicts that had been incarcerated at Port Arthur – represented by a suit of playing cards. By the end, our family had four individual ones my mother chose to keep as a memento and souvenir of our visit.

Once we had seen our fill of the visitor centre, we headed out into the open air. As we would soon be enjoying a harbour cruise, our family decided to first pay a visit to the Government Gardens close by. While my mother struggled to push Popo along the curated pebble paths in her wheelchair, I headed up to Government Cottage and Convict Church. When we had seen our fill, my mother and stepfather decided to take a few snaps of the actual penitentiary building from a distance. We then headed to the harbour cruise jetty to await our thirty minute tour around the small harbour.

On the cruise, we learned of Point Puer (a word I had happened to learn not too long ago when I was watching a Healthy Gamer video from the one and only Dr K – yes, I know. I watch an eclectic number of video essays to while away the time grinding in video games), which was a sanctioned juvenile prison that was closed in the 1840s due to poor living conditions (all supplies needed to be brought over separately) and the fact fewer children were being transported. Those there were also beginning to age out or had already finished their sentences.

Our boat also paid a visit to the Isle of the Dead. A small island, it hosted a cemetery where almost all who died – prisoners and staff – were buried. The cemetery was closed following the closure of the Port Arthur penal settlement before being reacquired and managed by the Tasmanian government in the early 20th century. While a contingent of people were supposed to disembark on the Isle of the Dead, due to weather conditions, they were unable to do so.

Still, it was an extra fifteen or so minutes before we returned to the jetty. By then, I and the famiyl were quite hungry. As we made our way to the Asylum Cafe, we wended our way through the penitentiary, the remains of the law courts and the rebuilt police station. Of the Commandant’s House and Guard Tower, we had managed to see them out on the water and I, personally, did not feel compelled to go in for a closer look.

Our late lunch was a simple affair of overpriced sandwiches and salads. Still, we ate our fill and I also got to enjoy a hot chocolate to tide me over for the rest of the afternoon. From there, we visited the Separate Prison, the Farm Overseer’s Cottage and had a look at hte exterior of the Visiting Magistrate’s House, the Roman Catholic Chaplain’s house and the Junior Medical Officer’s House.

Before too long, we had toured the entirety of the Port Arthur grounds and had headed back to the car. While I would have liked this to be the end of our Tasman Peninsula adventure, we also stopped by the Tasman’s Arch and strolled along the Devil’s Kitchen Circuit. Along the way, we also passed by another lavendar farm (which my mother wanted to stop by for more vibrant lavender photos though it was not the season they would be in bloom) and the Tasmanian Devil Unzoo.

Admittedly, being from Australia and having seen Tasmanian Devils in a few other zoos ALL around Australia, I had not felt compelled to pay the Unzoo a visit. But my mother was adamant about having a look around and not missing what she had deeemed ‘important’ sites. While I cannot fault her enthusiasm, both my stepfather and Popo were less inclined to stop.

So, when me, my stepfather and Popo enjoyed the Tasman’s Arch and the walkable portion of the Devil’s Kitchen circuit, my mother took the hire car so she could take a photo of the lavender farm we had passed by. The Tasman’s Arch, it must be said, it a tall natural bridge along the sea cliffs. Though it used to be a blowhole, time had seen the cave roof erode, leaving only a land bridge over the top.

Once Popo, my stepfather and I had taken in everything there, we called my mother for a pick-up. For a good twenty or so minutes, we waited for her arrival. Settling my grandmother in the shade, I kept busy doomscrolling through Facebook and reading tidbits of the latest fanfiction that had caught my eye (still CaitVi) until my mother pulled into the carpark.

From there, it was an hour or so drive back to Hobart.

As the Lunar New Year was soon upon us, our family decided to celebrate by enjoying a fine and contemporary Japanese dining experience at Suminato. Though we had not made a reservation, we had arrived early enough in the evening to take a table. After a considerable meal, we left full and satisfied.

Before returning to our hotel, we also decided to drive by Hobart’s historical icon: Wrest Point Hotel Casino. As Popo and I waited in the car, my mother and stepfather headed out to snap quick photos of the building.

By the time we returned to our hotel, the hour was late. In the room I shared with Popo, I noted down the key parts of my travel, played an hour of Pokemon Legends: Z-A and settled in for the night.

We would soon be returning back home to Sydney the day after tomorrow.

Lob Shack, Baby, Lob Shack

On May 19, 2026April 3, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

When travelling, I’ve always felt hard done by transit days when I move from one city to the next. It always feels like I don’t get to as much exploring as I move from one quaint hotel to another in a teeming city of people. Not so this time in my February trip through Tasmania wherein we stopped by many a place to take in the sights and sounds of the small island state as we made our way from Launceston to Hobart.

The day started early. After breakfast, my family set about cleaning up the executive apartment we were staying in. We were not going to end up on the subreddit for horror hotel guests. No sirree. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know how people can allow themselves to live in such squalor. Mess is just not something I can handle.

Admittedly, we did cut it a little close to the check-out time as Popo took her time going through her daily ablutions. An unfortunate fact of life when you’re 87 going on 88, I suppose. The fact she was able to still tag along with us, albeit being pushed along in a wheelchair, was a testament to her hearty constitution.

Once we had stowed our luggage in our rental car, we hopped in for the drive down the coast. Our first stop was the Bicheno Blowhole. This is located at the Waubs Esplanade and is known for evening vists by fairy penguins. As we were here in the morning, we had to contend only with water erupting from the hole of a sea cave.

Could we have stopped by later in the day? Perhaps. But the drive down to Hobart was a gruelling journey and coming back up to Bicheno for a possible penguin sighting was not on our itinerary.

Admittedly, navigating the rock pools around the blowhole was a danger in and of itself. As my mother and stepfather ventured out to take photos, I brought Popo to a picnic table close to the carpark. There was no way she would be able to get any closer without risking a slip or a fall. While she was never too mobile, she had lost a lot of muscle during her long convalescence from her trip to Egypt and Turkey back in 2023.

Yet the blowhole at Bicheno was not our only stop. My mother, having completed some research online on places to visit in Tasmania, wanted us to enjoy lunch at the Lobster Shack. Though it is considered a casual wal-in cafe, the Lobster Shack is also known for serving the freshest premium Tasmanian seafood this side of the southern hemisphere. With a boat ramp just before it, we headed on in to try two whole lobsters (sold at market price, which was roughly AUD $80 each), some oysters along with a helping of chips and salad.

Though it was not quite lunch time, our early arrival meant we were able to get a table before a veritable horde descended to the lobster shack. And while not a connoisseur of seafood, I had to admit the people at Lobster Shack knew what they were doing. Especially with the amount of merchandise they also had on sale.

From Bechino, we headed further south towards Freycinet National Park. Occupying most of the Freycinet Peninsula on Tasmania’s east coast, the national park is known for its secluded bays and white sandy bays. As we drove in, we stopped by Honeymoon Bay (backtracking a litle to pick up a National Park pass) before heading to the main carpark leading up to the Wineglass Bay lookout. Thankfully, our stay wasn’t long before we were back on the road to the actual reason why we had opted to stop by Freycinet National Park in the first place.

With no visitor centre in sight, we settled Popo in the shade not too far from the carpark. As there was a significant climb ahead of us that was not wheelchair friendly, it was our only option. Letting her know we would be back within an hour or so, my mother, stepfather and I headed up to the lookout. And what a climb it was!

While sunny, there was a cool breeze as we clambered our way up. Still, I was a little overdressed and was forced to take off my jacket the further up we climbed. On the way, we passed by other intrepid adventurers including a family of four from Germany. Or so they sounded. In fact, there were quite a number of tourists. All who endured the gruelling climb just to see the wineglass shape of the bay (which, if we wanted to visit the beach was another two hour walk). At the very top, we took in the scene, snapped several photos before heading back down (which, if I’m being honest, is much easier for me than climbing up).

How best to describe the view? Though the people coming down as I was going up told me it was very much the forty minute or so slog, I do feel like I was sold on a lie. Still, the day was beautiful with its clear blue skies and the bay itself, with its white sand and blue water was a delight to take in as I caught my breath (and drank the last of my water). That said, I could not get down fast enough.

In record time, I was back at the carpark – though I did stop to snap photos of a wallaby a Japanese couple was trying to coax out from the underbrush and in clear defiance of the signs that said not to pet wild animals. From Wineglass Bay lookout, we stopped by Cape Tourville, which was a short easier walk around a lighthouse. The route was about twenty or so minutes and with its flat even surface, meant we could easily push Popo along in her wheelchair as we gawked and marvelled at nature’s majesty.

There was also another wallaby in the Cape Tourville carpark!

Once we had seen our fill, it was a two and a half hour drive to Hobart. We arrived there late in the afternoon, having stopped for some fuel before crossing the bridge into the city proper. By then, the reception had closed but we were still able to pick up our keycard from the Out-of-Hours machine. Once we had unpacked, my mother and I headed to the local Woolworths (a two minute walk from our hotel) to purchase a quick dinner and some ingredients for breakfast.

Sometimes, there is no substitute for the familiar. And given Tasmania is STILL Australia, some things simply do not change when you travel to a different state for a few days.

It was not long before I hit the sack. The next day had a lot of promise. And I was eager to see what it would bring.

Our next stop? Port Arthur…

Lavender Haze

On May 5, 2026March 31, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Single’s Awareness Day is often a day of mourning for this blogger. I am, after all, single. And, as the years have gone by, I have resigned myself to the fact I might never find my second half. This is, in spite of the fact, I am constantly reading a horrendous amount of smut on AO3 (please NEVER look at my tabs. Those are sacred!) and kicking my feet when a couple acts incredibly sweet in an actual published novel (though the genre cannot ever actually be romance. What romance that does exist must solely be a subplot in the grander scheme of saving the world).

Still! Valentine’s Day 2026 was not without its own surprises as my family and I enjoyed our last full day in Launceston. But while I was not able to attend a pre-release event for Disney Lorcana, we did nip down to the Harvest Market, which is located in the carpark of 71 Cimitier Street.

While my stepfather remained in the hire car, me, my mother and Popo disembarked to take a gander at what was on offer. Though not as large or as impressive as the The Rocks Markets that can be found in Sydney, the Harvest Festival did have its own share of interesting produce and food options. As our family had enjoyed a hearty breakfast before venturing out, I settled on grabbing a snack for the drive ahead. This included picking up a bubble waffle drizzled in Tasmanian honey and a small hot chocolate to keep me going.

Bound to her wheelchair, Popo simply enjoyed taking in the sights and sounds of a bustling marketplace. But while I did have her try some of my bubble waffle, she was more enthralled by people-watching as we waited for my mother to return with a batch of specialised eye drops from a nearby chemist.

From the Harvest Market in the city centre of Launceston, we headed to the Bridestowe Estate – one of the world’s finest lavender farms. Of course, given the fact it was February, the lavender was not quite as vibrantly spectacular as they would have been in December and January. Rather, most of it had dried out. Admittedly, there was still a dull haze in the air.

Both my stepfather and mother headed down the rows to take in the view and snap whatever quality photos they could given the season. Meanwhile, I kept my grandmother company before taking the time to peruse the items on sale – purchasing for myself a set of lavender scented soap. Once my mother returned, we bought some lavender infused ice cream to try out.

From Bridestowe, we returned to Launceston to pay a visit to a nature preserve set in the middle of a lagoon. Tamar Islands Wetlands Centre lies on the outskirts of Launceston and is abundant with plant and animal life. Though it was roughly lunch time, our family enjoyed a short traipse along the accessible boardwalk taking in the views of the tall native Tasmanian grasses. Along the way, we gawked at the gulls and swans in the distance. We even spotted a copperhead snake lying in wait though it was gone by the time we returned to the visitor centre.

The visitor centre itself was fairly small with a tiny exhibit on the wildlife of Tasmania. Though there were a number of pamphlets, it seemed like the Tamar Islands Wetlands were visited primarily by citizen scientists or birdwatchers. Tourists such as my family never stayed for long before losing interest.

By the time we returned to our car, it was mid-afternoon. Hungry, we stopped by Saigon Kitchen, a Vietnamese restaurant located on Brisbane Street. As the rest of my family enjoyed some hearty pho, I grabbed a banh mi instead. Mostly because it had been a good long while since I had one as my favourite local one closed several months back.

With our stomachs full, my mother and I traipsed over to the local pedestrain shopping mall. There, I checked out the local EB Games and debated the logistics of purchasing more Disney Lorcana cards or whether or not I ought to refrain (spoiler alert, I did not buy the Brave Little Prince Mickey playmet though I was tempted). As my mother ducked into the nearby Myers, I also stopped to have a look at a local bookstore: Quixotic Books. Though no one tilted against windmills while there, I took a gander at some of the secondhand books on display and their small section of fantasy novels.

Once I had satiated my curiosity (even though I did leave empty-handed), my mother and I returned to the restaurant to rejoin the rest of the family and head back to our accommodations.

After an arduous day out at Cradle Mountain the day before, all of us were agreed a quieter day of rest was needed to recover our spirits and prepare us for when we would be heading to Hobart the next day.

Could I have gone back to the city centre to partake in more Disney Lorcana? Perhaps. But the thought of heading back out after a big morning out felt like anathema to my state of mind. Besides, it was easier to watch the Winter Olympics on the TV and enjoy a sedate Saturday afternoon as I played more of Pokemon Legends: Z-A.

Yet as my mother and I lounged on the couch, we snuck in a movie – letting it take us on a journey to the fantastical imaginings of what it would be like to live in a world where dinosaurs had been let loose on the world in Jurassic World Rebirth (which, if I’m being honest, simply does not hold a candle to the very first Jurassic Park and fails to inject the sense of awe we all felt during that brachiosaurus scene even as it tries to emulate it to the best of its ability).

So ended our last day in Launceston. Next stop: Hobart!

How Far I’ll Go

On April 12, 2026February 20, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

An oft overlooked gem, Tasmania is often jokingly considered irrelevant to mainland Australians in favour of us taking over New Zealand. Yet with Valentine’s Day creeping up on the horizon (as well as the Lunar New Year), my family thought now was an excellent time to pay a visit to the southernmost state for some recreational family bonding.

Travelling with my grandmother (also known an Popo) can be difficult. With limited mobility, it is hard for her to walk. As such, we often bring a foldable wheelchair with us when we go anywhere local. On our trip to Tasmania? We brought it along, wheeling her to the door of the plane. Virgin Australian and Qantas were quite accommodating with our accessibility requests. Popo never had to wait long for our wheelchair to be brought over so she could be slowly wheeled out afterwards. The weight and relatively compact size of the wheelchair also meant we were able to easily pack it into the hired care along with all of our luggage.

It was mid-afternoon when we landed in Launceston. After we briefly stopped at our accommodation in Youngtown, my family set out for Cataract Gorge, which sits just to the west of the city centre.

According to the brochure, Cataract Gorge was created during an earthquake that occurred when Australia broke away from the continent of Gondwana. It is believed volcanic activity dammed the Tamar Valley, leading to the formation of a freshwater lake. This later eroded over the course of 10 million years with the river system carving out a new landscape. Cataract Gorge, itself, only emerged in the last 20,000 years when ice in Tasmania’s mountains finally melted.

Though there was still time for us to take the chairlift to the original Cliff Grounds Reserve, my family decided simply to take a simple walk around the Basin and over towards the great Alexandra Suspension Bridge. With Popo in a wheelchair, we weren’t entirely certain how it would be brought along with us.

As we slowly made our way around the track, I spotted a peacock craning its head past some rocks. As is my want, I quickly snapped a shot. Further up, a small gathering of people were crowded around an echidna digging for insects to eat. So, of course, I snapped a photo of that as well.

The other fauna I saw included a number of guinea fowl. While I would have liked to have caught one for dinner, my family decided it would be best to try something a little different. After our walk around the basin, we headed to Pachinko located in the city centre – a quaint Japanese restaurant with a slightly limited dinner menu that was, nevertheless, enjoyable.

Friday dawned bright and early for us as we were intent on heading up Cradle Mountain. Initially declared a scenic reserve in 1922, it was later designated a national park in 1947 – a vision borne from Austrian-born Gustav Weindorfer and his wife, Kate. Given that it is also an alpine region, the weather on the mountain can change rapidly and frequently. It is due to this very reason that some people have died while hiking the mountain or have gone missing (as in the case of Belgian woman, Celine Cremer).

From Launceston, we had to first stop by the small town of Sheffield. Yet, while Cradle Mountain was the main draw, Sheffield was also its own marvel with its variety of murals on display near the visitor centre and all across the main street. These were all vibrant, with many exploring intricate themes while others were a tad silly. The ones I liked best seemed to evoke a sense of adventure.

After grabbing a hot chocolate, we hopped back into the car for our way up to Cradle Mountain. At the visitor centre, we purchased a park pass and a shuttle ticket to get up to Dove Lake. Despite the inclimate weather, there were many visitors in attendance. As we waited in line, I heard snippets of Chinese, German and even Spanish!

Once at Dove Lake, we paid a visit to the Boat Shed, which lay on the shore. Given the chill wind, my family then retreated to the shelter of the shuttle stop to have a spot of lunch (and mostly to keep an eye on Popo as the walks around Dove Lake weren’t as conducive to wheelchairs as we had hoped) though I decided to take a gander at Glacier Rock.

It was not long before a shuttle came trundling up to the stop and our family hopped on to head back down to the carpark. After much hewing and hawing (my stepfather had wanted to visit Lake Saint Clair – unfortunately, it was another three hour drive around the mountain), we decided to return to Launceston via Devonport (a coastal city where the Spirt of Tasmania calls home).

Whilst I would have preferred staying a little longer at Cradle Mountain (mostly to pay a visit to Waldheim – the chalet built by the Austrians who would declare the mountain a national park), it was not to be.

Along the way to Devonport, we stopped by Waratah – snapping a shot of the waterfall located in the very heart of the town itself.

Devonport, itself, is the third-largest city of Tasmania. Focused more on key sites, we headed to the Mersey Bluff Lighthouse to take photos of the coastline before stopping by the local harbour where a Spirit of Tasmania (along with a Seaport ship) was docked.

While we initially flirted with the idea of grabbing dinner in Devonport, we decided to head back to Launceston instead. There, we tried out Luz Restaurant, which was located in what felt like a refurbished waiting room of an old manor or hotel (with the entrance serving as a fire door). While I was a little puzzled by its presentation, the food was delicious (if a little light in serving size for my stepfather’s tastes). Full, my family returned to the car while I vanished down a side street – paying a visit to Scenic Isle Gaming to purchase a pre-release box of Disney Lorcana Cards (Winterspell for those in the know). Which, of course, they did have. And for $30 cheaper than the usual local gaming store I do go to!

There was even a promo card attached to it (which they put in a plastic sleeve which had a picture of Raine from the Owl House. And now I’m wondering if Lorcana will ever adapt the characters FROM the Owl House into actual cards. They’ve already done the animated Lilo and Stitch and Ducktales. Why not Kim Possible and a slew of other iconic IP from my childhood?

Is my attachment a symptom of my Disney Adult-itis? Possibly. And yet the nostalgia is strong!

AND the next few sets will star PIXAR characters as well! Be still, my beating heart!

Thus ended my family’s first two days in the island state just across the Bass Strait. There would, of course, be more adventures ahead for us. After all, we had much more to see and do. And while we would miss a few iconic sights (like the town of GRINDLEWALD), I like to think we got to enjoy a balance of history and nature.

So, while we mainland Australians may joke about Tasmania never being one of us, there’s a lot more to it that meets the eye.

Veil Between (Part 1)

On February 26, 2026January 16, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

It is with great sadness I interrupt my five week streak of posts related to video games by providing a segment of the short story I completed just before the end of 2025. While I have finished another video game (Stellar Blade), I have not the capacity to write up a scathing impression of it as yet (given I’ve fallen ill and I did not want to inundate you, my dear reader, with yet more chatter of video games). Still, there is much to be said of it – much of it relevant to our current climes.

Speaking of which, at time of writing, it is but the middle of January and yet so much has already happened in 2026. Not much of it good. Yet the world turns and every day fades into the next.

There are times where I feel so powerless. I have neither wealth nor a huge platform to decry the heinous acts being committed. Worst of all, I have no private military do I command to cleanse the world anew. Or, perhaps, a little black notebook to insert names I find egregious in their abuse of power.

So I sit and contemplate the legacy of humanity and whether it has all been for naught.

But my blog, of course, is not meant to be a philosophical dissection of the human condition. Rather, it’s a place I like to think I’ve carved out in the internet to showcase the things I enjoy (and perhaps bring a modicum of joy to the lucky person who stumbles upon it – be it on Tumblr or on WordPress). So, without further ado, a snippet of my recent short story (which has already been published on Fictionpress and Wattpad) to keep you amused during these troubling times:

New Orleans. French Quarter. Bourbon Street.

In the light of day, the creole townhouses, with their steeply pitched roofs and stucco exterior, were a sight to behold. To my left they served as a front to various shops targeted for tourists. I’d already picked up a fleur-de-lis magnet as a commemorative souvenir.

On my right were a number of restaurants and bars. Already, some were beginning to open, offering curious onlookers a place to try the latest libations or to have their first taste of a Cajun delicacy. The thought, however, reminded me of how I’d spent most of the night before perched over a porcelain throne. My boyfriend had peered through the crack between the door and the wall with open concern. A first for Mike. Given his usual nonchalant attitude to most things in life.

Rude, I know. But having been with him for as long as I have, I feel like I have the right.

Still, how to best describe Mike?

The two of us had met in college during a chance encounter at a frat party hosted by his friend, Sammy. I’d wanted to push the boundaries of my comfort zone. But more than that, the thought of staying in my dormitory with a less than attentive roommate addicted to video games hadn’t appealed much to my sensibilities.

This was, after all, my chance to be more than the studious nerd I’d been in middle and high school. Of putting myself out there.

Mike, the life of the party, immediately caught my eye. And he, being the confident extrovert he was, had decided it was his duty ease me into life on campus. Things spiralled from the first red solo cup I had. Before I knew it, the two of us were making out on a bed.

The rest, as they say, was history.

Seven years on and we were in the birthplace of jazz. It had been Mike’s idea to come visit New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Having never been, but also wishing to indulge my curiosity, I’d readily agreed. After all, there was just so much culture in one small southern state.

And if anyone were to say otherwise, they’d be lying.

Yes, it’s true. The two of us did struggle a little with making our relationship work. We were from two completely different worlds. He was a student of the hedonistic arts, after all. Whereas I, on the other hand, was a student of history. Somehow, though, we managed to find common ground. Namely in the appreciation of nude Grecian statues.

“Jordan! There you are! Should have known you’d end up people watching again.” Mike’s loud voice rang out across the quiet, pulling me out of my reverie. I lowered my disposable Starbucks cup of coffee and offered him a strained smile.

“Mike.”

“Listen, I know it wasn’t the best look to head out before you were even awake but there’s something I’ve always wanted to do. And last night, something came up on my Insta feed. So, of course, I DM’d the organiser. Next thing I know, I was in an empty parking lot at five in the morning.”

I squeezed the sides of my temple. “Was it drugs?”

“What? No,” exclaimed Mike. “Why would you think that? Actually, never mind. Don’t answer that.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder and pulled something from the back pocket of his designer black jeans, flashing me what looked to be a woefully crumpled handcrafted invitation. “Look. We’ve now got a bonafide ticket for an actual séance! With ghosts and maybe a Ouija board thrown in.”

“You can’t be serious, Mike.”

“Oh, come on, Jordan. Are you telling me you’ve never once sat around with a few friends and tried out a Ouija board?”

I stared Mike dead in the eye. Something not too difficult to do given there was only an inch or two difference between us.

Michael Davis Hillier was a tall wiry man with a mop of unruly dark brown hair that somehow looked styled even though it wasn’t. A loose strand trailed down towards his jawline, accentuating his sun-kissed south European skin. He was wearing a fitted rainbow button-down shirt and a blue scarf thrown stylishly over one shoulder.

Mike, as always, oozed confidence.

In contrast, I had a more solid build than my boyfriend and was developing something of a stomach. Much to my chagrin. My style, to Mike’s displeasure, veered more towards comfort. I was wearing an open red plait shirt with a white tee beneath, denim shorts and a pair of loafers. My shoulder length hair was tightly braided and pulled back with a tie.

“Do I look like a teenage girl in a horror movie? I’m not fucking out of my mind. You don’t mess with that shit,” I said. “It’s bad juju.”

Mike let out a laugh, clapping a hand on my shoulder to steady himself. “Oh, come on. You’re not saying the rising star of the anthropology department believes in superstitions, do you?” When I did not respond, he pressed on. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal. If anything bad happens, we can go to the cathedral in Jackson Square. Maybe find a priest who can pray the bad juju away. How’s that sound? I mean, it’s not like it helped with the gay, but it might work this time round.”

“I hate you.”

“No,” said Mike, leaning in close. “You hate that you love me.”

I hummed under my breath, allowing myself to be pulled in. “Maybe.”

A grin broke across Mike’s lips. He closed the space between us and kissed me. Slow and deep. I couldn’t help but kiss him back with the same amount of verve, lost in the sensation.

Despite all the fights, Mike and I always came back to each other.

He pulled away first. “So, 9 PM? I’ll text you the details later,” he said, breath ghosting over my own.

“Do I really have to?”

“It’ll be fine, Jordan,” said Mike. “Why not, you know, just live a little. For me? Please?”

I looked up into his stormy grey eyes that changed to suit the weather. They were such a contrast to my own dark brown ones.

“Fine,” I conceded. “But only because you were polite. And also because I want to feel morally superior when, after everything is said and done, absolutely nothing happens and you get proven wrong for the umpteenth time. Like, come on, Mike. A séance? Ghosts? When do we think we’re living in? The late 1800s?”

“Funny you should mention that. One of your favourite authors was an ardent supporter of everything mystical. Including fairies.”

“You’re lying. Who?”

Mike danced away from me. It was only then I realised he’d taken my disposable Starbucks cup and finishing off the last dredges of my coffee. He made a show of it. Because, of course, he did.

“That’s my little secret.” He turned to leave, vanishing into the ever-growing crowds on Bourbon Street before I had the chance to chase after him. The last I saw of Mike were the flash of his fingers as he cheekily saluted his goodbye.

No doubt he was already trying to figure out how to hit the most bars before the event tonight. The real question was whether or not he’d have sobered up enough before the séance.

A thought I shoved to the back of my mind. It wasn’t my responsibility to keep one eye on him. I had my own plans. None of which included playing nursemaid to an irresponsible manchild. With a heavy sigh, I decamped from my quiet spot at the corner of a hotel and headed further down towards the Mississippi river.

My walking tour was scheduled to start in thirty minutes.

It was five minutes to nine when I arrived outside the intimidating colonial style house painted all in white. I double-checked the address Mike had sent me after I’d reminded him thirteen minutes after seven I still didn’t know where I was meant to go for the séance.

The house sat on the outskirts of the French Quarter, facing the river. Simple ionic columns adorned the front porch, framing the door painted a dark blue. Panelled windows, their shutters open, stared over a neatly trimmed symmetrical front yard with its waist high hedges. Two stone benches sat underneath.

The British colonial style was a symbol of a time long past where my ancestors were slaves working plantations. Much had changed since then but the chains of oppression could still be felt even in the present day. Prejudices, in spite of the distance, still had a way of hanging around. Perhaps that was the reason why I climbed the stairs with trepidation before knocking on the door.

A young girl, dressed in a white shirt, black vest and tie, opened the thick oak on my third knock. She held a clipboard in one hand. “Are you here to attend Madam Xanthe’s Miraculous Spectacle?” she asked, her voice heavy with scepticism as she eyed me up and down.

“Yes. Should be under Jordan. If not, it might be under Michael Hillier.”

The girl consulted her clipboard, her finger trailing down until it landed near the bottom. She pursed her lips. “Yes. I see it now.” She stepped to the side. “The others are waiting in the foyer. Madam Xanthe’s Miraculous Spectacle will begin within the next twenty minutes.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Oh, and before I let you go, can you tell me if Mike has arrived yet?”

Instead of answering, the girl stared up at me balefully. It was clear she wasn’t keen to be here. She motioned once more for me to enter.

The body language was clear.

“Guess not,” I muttered under my breath as I stepped through the threshold and past the girl.

God. What had Mike got us mixed in this time?

Inside the tastefully decorated foyer, with its checkerboard marble flooring sat two people. One was an older gentleman dressed in a tan three-piece suit. His salt-and-pepper hair carefully pushed back in an artfully messy style. Leaning over the low coffee table, he was shuffling a deck of cards. Occasionally, he would pull one out, stare at it with a frown before returning it to the pack before repeating the procedure once more.

Closer to the entrance, ensconced in an armchair, was a younger woman who appeared to be in her early 40s. She was dressed conservatively in a long skirt and a blouse with a large round frill buttoned all the way to the top. Her hair was a shock of white though a streak of dirty blonde snaked through. It was an odd choice but who was I to judge?

A large bag sat next to her where a thread of purple yarn led up to whatever knitting project she had in her hands. From my angle near the door, it looked to be a scarf of some sort. Or maybe it was a blanket. It certainly had the width for it.

She looked up as I approached, setting her knitting to one side. “You’re not a familiar face.” The strong Scottish brogue took me by surprise.

“Jordan,” I said, stretching out a hand.

“Patrice,” she answered, giving my hand a shake. “No offence, but you don’t look the type.”

I cocked my head to the side, puzzled. “The type to what?”

Patrice gestured to the foyer. “All this. Psychics and mediums. Too much of a head on your shoulders, you.”

“And you’d be right,” I answered with a heavy sigh as I took the armchair opposite her. “All this was my boyfriend’s idea. He’s always been more interested in these kinds of things. I’d have preferred staying in a hotel room watching a documentary.”

“Maybe he wants you to experience more of the world beyond the ivory tower.”

“Maybe. But—”

I was pulled up short by the entrance of Mike. He had changed into a flamboyant glittering silver shirt that revealed his smooth chest. Skintight slacks replaced his jeans. The dress shoes, he kept, though they’d been recently polished.

Mike scanned the foyer, lavishing in the attention as all heads turned to face him, before his gaze settled on me. “Jordan! There you are! Was afraid you’d have tried to escape or called in sick last minute.” He came up to me and enveloped me in a warm embrace. The stench of alcohol was heavy despite the cologne he’d sprayed.

I forced a smile to my lips. “Wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.”

“Before you tell me off again, I want you to know that Madam Xanthe is the real deal. No parlour tricks here.”

“You’re very confident,” I said. “How can you be so sure?”

Before Mike could answer, the elderly gentleman cut in. “Stories from previous clients. Reviews. Even live footage.” He turned to Mike. “It’s…Hillier, correct? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’m Copernicus.”

Surprise, recognition and then awe flashed across Mike’s face. He took Copernicus’ hand. “Hillier is my father. You can call me Mike. The pleasure, though, is all mine. I know we spoke of attending a séance together but I didn’t think you’d be here. Foolish, of me. Of course you’d attend in person. A chance to see across the veil? This is what we’ve dreamt about for years.”

“It is indeed. Though, had you not brought Madam Xanthe to my attention, we would not be meeting here like this.”

“And are you the client? The one seeking to commune with—”

Copernicus shook his head. “No. It seems our main guest of honour has yet to arrive.”

I watched the two of them banter, feeling out of my depth. It was like the two of them were speaking another language as they descended into conversation about something the two of them were both enraptured by.

In fact, I’d never seen Mike look so animated before. There was a feverish glint in his eye and a wide smile on his lips.

“—and this is my partner, Jordan.”

I blinked owlishly at the gloved hand proffered in my direction. “Hillier—no. Mike. He spoke of you often in our discussions,” said Copernicus. He nodded towards Mike. “You’re lucky to be with such an enterprising individual in the field of mediums and spirituality.”

Was it me or did Mike actually blush? I’d never seen him preen under someone else’s praise before. The sight made my stomach churn with something ugly I refused to acknowledge. He had never once looked at me like he did Copernicus.

With effort, I forced myself to smile as I shook the older gentleman’s hand.

“Copernicus, here, is one of the leading specialists in all things supernatural,” said Mike. “The two of us met in an online forum.”

I nodded my head. “And, um, is Copernicus your real name?”

“Well, he’s no Renaissance scholar,” admitted Mike. “Let’s just say ‘Copernicus’ is,” he snapped his fingers, trying to jog his thoughts, “an alias.”

“I see.” Silence rushed in to fill the gap. “And what’s yours? The penname you use, that is.”

Mike grinned at me in the way I knew meant trouble. “Doyle. But in the end, it was easier to use my real name.”

Of course.

He could never resist yet another dig at my expense. The very fact he chose Doyle was a means at getting back at me for whatever slight he thought I’d caused him.

“Oh, how delightful,” piped up Patrice. “Are we all part of the Peering into the Supernatural forum? I did think you looked awfully familiar, Doyle. Or do you prefer Mike?”

“It doesn’t really matter. Mike’s probably easier,” he replied. Then, almost as if it was an afterthought, he added, “Well, if you’re familiar with us then you have to be Boudicca. Although, I must say, you look a lot younger than the display picture you used.”

Patrice seemed delighted by the compliment. “It’s the make-up, sweetie. Takes off thirty years if you know how to apply it.”

“You don’t say?”

Before the two could continue, the girl who had greeted me at the door, stepped through. She did not look up from her clipboard. “Madam Xanthe’s Miraculous Spectacle is about to begin. Please follow me.” Without checking to see if we would obey her imperious command, the girl turned on her heel and marched through the door.

After exchanging a glance with all those in attendance, we scrambled after her; the sound of her heels on the marble floor the only indicator we were heading in the right direction.

The room she led us to was a dimly lit fire hazard. Hundreds upon hundreds of candles were strewn haphazardly in the small claustrophobic chamber. Some were held aloft in tall golden candelabras. Others had been placed in strategic positions around the room. All were different stages of their life. The dripping wax a sight to behold in and of itself.

But what upset me even more were how the room was decorated. The upholstery of the room could only be described as 1920s chic with its lavish and extravagant style. Heavy drapes covered the windows, blocking out even the electric light in the street outside. Ancient relics, kept safe in class cases, were tucked neatly to the side underneath various portraits of people long dead.

In the middle of the room sat a round table. Affixed to the centre was a Ouija board. Next to it was a crystal ball and a set of tarot cards in a nine-card spread. None of which had yet been flipped over.

Framed between two sticks of incense sat a dowdy woman wearing a dress my mother would have turned into curtains at the first chance. She had paired it with a gaudy gold belt around her waist. Her long curly brown hair was held back by a bejewelled head scarf.

Seated opposite her was a mousy woman dressed in a grey pencil skirt and a neat white blouse. She looked up as we entered. Her eyes narrowed. “I thought this was supposed to be a private session.”

“Crossing the veil is no easy feat. Assistance is always needed.”

The woman stood up. “I came to you in confidence. Not to be the butt of an elaborate prank.” She made towards the entrance foyer.

Madam Xanthe waved at the chair. “Adelaide—”

“It’s Adeline.”

“My apologies,” said Madam Xanthe. She gestured once more to the chair. “Adeline, please. Sit. I know the recent loss of your father has left you raw and that you seek answers. This séance, powered by those present, is your best hope.”

The words gave the woman – Adeline – pause. She worried the bottom lip with her teeth before letting out a breath and returning to her chair. “Fine.”

“Excellent.” The smile on Madam Xanthe’s face did not reach her eyes. She turned her attention to the girl. “Magdalene. Fetch the purified salt. I shall begin with the protection circles.”

Magdalene nodded, a less than enthusiastic expression on her face and vanished around the corner.

With her out of the room, Madam Xanthe motioned to the rest of us to sit down. After exchanging a glance with Mike, I took a seat to his left. Patrice plonked her knitting project next to the chair beside mine before bending over to talk to Adeline.

“It may not be my place to say this but time heals all wounds. You’ll get through this.”

Adeline offered the Scottish woman a wan smile but said nothing in return. She crossed her arms and turned to Madam Xanthe, as if waiting for the show to begin.

Like the fraud she was, Madam Xanthe made a show of her preparations. She muttered under her breath as she cast the purified salt in a circle, making sure to keep us all sequestered. Then she gazed into the crystal ball on her desk, humming in assent, seemingly pleased by what she saw.

If I were to be honest, she was sloppier than I expected.

But there was little I could do. After all, I’d made a promise to Mike. And true to my word, I was to see it through. Despite my misgivings.

Once everything was ready, Madam Xanthe instructed us all to hold each other’s hands. Mike’s hand was warm and clammy. A surefire sign he was nervous. In contrast, Patrice was dry as a bone. When I managed to crane my head over to take a peek at her, she seemed to be vibrating with excitement.

At least one of us was having fun.

“The spirits are capricious,” said Madam Xanthe, drawing our attention back to her. “They can be malevolent or helpful. Tonight, we reach across the veil and beseech their aid to call upon the ghost of Gerald William Faversham.”

“Is there anything we need to keep in mind?” asked Mike.

“Yes. Please keep hold of the hands of your neighbours as we begin the chant. And carefully enunciate as you repeat after me. It is imperative you say the words exactly as I do or else it won’t work.”

Copernicus raised a white eyebrow. “Who knew the spirits would be so exacting.”

“They aren’t,” answered Madam Xanthe with a tight smile. “I do all this to increase our chances of a positive outcome. You will appreciate that mediumship is not…a science. Nor is it replicable. What might work in one situation might not in another.”

“How terribly frustrating.”

Madam Xanthe inclined her head towards Patrice. “Still, I’ve come to find certain things help. And in this instance, I hope to use my ability to ease Adeline of the pain she carries within.” She looked around at each of us around the table. “Now, if there are no further questions, let us begin. Magdalene, please close the door and ensure we are not interrupted.”

List of Catchphrases

On January 12, 2026November 14, 2025 By kyndarisLeave a comment

In the week following PAXAus 2025 in Melbourne, SXSW descended on Sydney. With it came a Dungeons and Dragons live show at the International Convention Centre at the heart of Darling Harbour with THE Brennan Lee Mulligan (for those not in know, Brennan Lee Mulligan has a stellar reputation in the tabletop role-playing game scene) serving as Dungeon Master (otherwise known as the DM). How he managed to fit it between what he churns out for Dropout and Campaign IV of Critical Role, I’ll never know, but after seeing Critical Role live back in June 2025, I was not going to miss out on another wonderful show. Enter with me, dear reader, into the world of the Endless Dungeon.

Of course, attending such events on one’s lonesome can be intimidating. Thankfully, I knew the perfect candidate to attend with me.

Though Dikottir and I had been busy since February (with only a brief catchup at PAXAus 2025 where he saw me on the first day as we were heading in), I sent him a private message letting him know of the event. As a fan of Dimension 20 and an active subscriber of Dropout, I knew Dikottir would not miss the chance to see his hero live on stage.

The two of us met up in Darling Square, enjoying a quick meal from Spago and a scoop of Messina, before heading in to the ICC.

The Endless Dungeon, it must be said, is a teeming labyrinth of endless possibilities. Think of me, perhaps, like the dungeon in Dungeon Meshi with its own unique ecosystem including a sewerage ocean and creatures that have never seen the surface. Given its unique design, the dungeon is, itself, the perfect playground for one-shot adventures with all manner of players.

Thankfully, Australia had a number of comedians that were familiar enough with D&D to take to the stage: Jordan Raskopoulos, Tom Cardy, Demi Lardner and Zac Naoum.

While I knew of Tom Cardy (primarily for his YouTube shorts and videos, as well as the fact he was the host for Critical Role back in June), I also tangentially knew Jordan. The others, however, were a mystery though Dikottir was familiar with Demi’s work.

And if there was one word I’d use to describe the adventure on stage I’d have to go with THERAPY.

Why, I hear you ask?

Well, let’s just say Zac’s character was a failed CHOSEN one and Demi’s had a few issues with being sufficiently motivated to live life as a warlock that had a pact with infernal demons. Jordan’s wereshark pirate was still trying to process the death of their wife and Tom was desperately trying to convert the denizens of the Endless Dungeon to his faith about the fantastical sun (while also trying to get any possible followers into a pyramid scheme).

But though I’m loathe to admit it, I found the Endless Dungeon show more entertaining than the Critical Role live-play. This, of course, was primarily due to the fact Matthew Mercer and the rest of the voice acting cast were trying to tell a cohesive story that linked up to the adventures of the Mighty Nein and Bell’s Hells. Endless Dungeon, however, had no such limitations. It was essentially a comedy show dressed up as a D&D live-play with the comedians riffing off each other or bringing back gags to keep the laughs going. Whether it was between themselves or the audience.

Brennan, of course, was an excellent facilitator despite the various attempts from Demi and the others trying to derail the adventure. Always he would bring the party back together, reminding them of the story beats they had almost left on the wayside.

However, as a comedian himself, Brennan was also able to improv his own jokes and punchlines when needed. In fact, he had a few key moments that had the audience roaring in laughter. Especially when he climbed atop the table to pose like a conquering hero ready to dazzle us all with a one-liner.

Still, the synergy between the players and Brennan was electric. And despite the fact it was a worknight, I was able to forget about the hours that passed (until, at least, the intermission). By the second half, though, I was keeping an eye on the time and wondering how quickly it would be brought to an end. D&D being what it is, sometimes poor dice rolls can be disastrous for players. Thankfully, many of them were able to pick up on the hints Brennan left for them and the key villain was able to be vanquished right at 11PM.

Once it was over, Dikottir and I made our way to our respective transportations back home. For me, the trains. For him, the light rail.

Admittedly, I do think he enjoyed The Endless Dungeon much more than I did. Like Sorrengail, Dikottir tends to lean forward in his seat when it’s something they enjoy. Granted, though, the two of them are fairly tall so it might also be a way the two of them can sit more comfortably? As a relatively short person the struggles of being 170cm or higher remains a mystery to me. And I tend to sit back in my seat to allow my legs some room to stretch.

Overall, though, The Endless Dungeon was a great evening out. Would I have preferred it on a Friday night? Absolutely. But such an opportunity is few and far between for us nerds here in Australia.

I, for one, am quietly hoping for the return of Distant Worlds to return to our shores. In the meantime, I’ll take what I can.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even try my hand at writing up my own stand-up comedy set! Goodness knows several people in my life have said I’m funny (though I don’t really see it).

Admittedly, if it allows me to appear on stage with those I admire (from afar), why not?

After all, you only live once right? Why not take what chances you’re given and try something new? And given this post will be uploaded not too long after we ring in 2026, it seems like the perfect resolution to make now that I’ve some freedom.

That said, my love life is still a barren rock. While some of my work colleagues DID tease me and say our outing to The Endless Dungeon was a date, I like to think it was more an outing with a friend. We may still not be besties but at least we’re getting to know each other better? At least this is how this asexual is going to view it.

If anything does come of it, dear readers, you will be the first to know.

Choo! Choo!

On January 5, 2026November 8, 2025 By kyndarisLeave a comment

It was a cold and blustery Sunday morning when bleachpanda and I headed over to the distant suburb of Belgrave. Eschewing the third day of PAX, the two of us had arranged for a train ship out in the quiet Victorian suburbs and to enjoy some high tea once our little steam engine reached its stop at Lakeside. But first, there was the whole ordeal of getting there. Especially with the ongoing trackwork on the line.

Having researched all this beforehand, the two of us woke early. Thankfully, our hotel was close to a local bus station. The bus in question, the 907, took us to station unaffected by the closures. Mitcham is a small commuter railway station on the Belgrave and Lilydale lines.

When we arrived, our train was pulling into the station. Bleachpanda and I quickly descended the escalator and hopped on. From there, it was a another twenty odd minutes or so to the station at the end of the line (as it was an all-stops train and because Belgrave sits about 36km away from Melbourne’s CBD). Once we arrived, we wended our way through the back exit of the station, making sure to tap our Myki cards, as we followed the signs to the one and only Puffing Billy.

According to the pamphlet we were handed as we picked up our tickets, the Puffing Billy Railway was one of four narrow-gauge railway lines built in Victoria back in December 1900 to open up more remote areas. This track, originally spanning 29 kilometres, traced a scenic route from Upper Ferntree Gully to Gembrook (which was once a busy centre for the transportation of timber and farm produce).

During its nearly 125 year history, the railway was closed briefly in 1953 following a landslide and mounting financial losses at the time. Following its closure, though, the Puffing Billy Preservation Society was formed to keep the railway running and it reopened services in 1955 (with further work done in 1962, 1965, 1975 and 1998).

For bleachpanda and myself, we would be taking it only to Lakeside Station.

And what a ride it was!

With our feet dangling out the windows (although technically I was the only one out of the two of us who did it and even then, not for long), we watched the countryside flash past us. Munching on our snacks, we enjoyed a day out looking at nature. That said, it was a little nippy and the two of us, unfortunately, had not dressed as warmly as we should have.

Still, I have to admit, it was good to see train enthusiasts waving at us as we passed them by. There’s something uniquely human in that brief connection that filled me with a sense of wonder.

Once we arrived at Lakeside, we headed towards the the Visitor Centre where the cafe was located for our high tea lunch. Though the sandwiches were passable, I was a little confused at the selection of salami and prosciutto selections at the bottom. The scones, too, were a lot more filling than I expected. That said, they were tastier than the too sweet macarons.

After we finished filling our stomachs, bleachpanda and I took a stroll down past Lake Treganowan in Emerald Lake Park. To our dismay, it started to rain. Fortunately, the two of us had thought ahead (or I did because I was checking the daily forecast) and had brought umbrellas.

While I would have preferred a sunnier day, I suppose I should have been thankful it didn’t storm and turn our entire expedition out into some disaster. We even got to venture through an amateur art gallery filled with paintings of animals and iconic Australian scenery.

The train ride back on the Puffing Billy saw us sit facing the other side (which we missed out on the ride over to Lakeside). Snapping a few shots, I was lulled by the motion of the steam train and my natural circadian rhythm to nap for a few minutes as we returned to Belgrave and ‘civilised’ society.

After we pulled into the station, bleachpanda and I took a gander at some of the souvenirs. I picked up a fridge magnet while bleachpanda spent a pretty penny on a t-shirt for her niece. Then it was back to Belgrave train station. This time round we took the train all the way to Camberwell before taking a shuttle bus all the way to Parliament.

By then, it was nearing dinner so the two of us headed to Ikkoryu Fukuoka Ramen. And while the food was decent (though I did ask for normal noodles and feel like I got hard instead), I felt it was a little overpriced for what it was. Admittedly, it was also a Sunday (which would have added a hefty surcharge).

As bleachpanda and I sat and ate a nice warm soupy meal to combat the freezing temperature outside, I couldn’t help but take in the other patrons. A vast majority were PAX goers that had, presumably, enjoyed their Sunday in the Melbourne Exhibition and Convention Centre.

Stomachs full, bleachpanda and I braved the sudden storm blowing through Melbourne CBD in order to return to our hotel.

The trip to Melbourne had come to a close. While I would have liked it much better if bleachpanda had purchased me the steam paddleboat Lego set at the airport, I like to think it was a good trip. After all, she hadn’t threatened to murder me as much as she did when we were in Japan!

While I can’t say when my next trip will be, I am hoping for a nice extended holiday overseas. Maybe a country with rolling hills and nice cottages that appeal to my sensibilities.

Time will see if my dreams come to fruition.

2026 is a new year filled with all manner of possibilities. Here’s hoping I can find the one thing I’ve craved for as long as I’ve been alive.

2025: Stoking the Fires

On December 26, 2025December 25, 2025 By kyndarisLeave a comment

This year has seen many personal ups and downs. With its end, though, there has been some relief from the burdens I’ve carried as the sole carer for my elderly grandmother. And yet, I cannot say 2025 was a good year. The world continues to be thrown into chaos. Divisons between communities continue to deepen. And hate continues to pervade the headlines.

Let’s start from the beginning shall we?

Perhaps it was apt that 2025 started with an attack on New Orleans where a truck rammed down pedestrians on Bourbon Street. 15 people were killed and another 57 were injured. Fortunately, such worries were brushed aside following the funeral of Jimmy Carter (who had passed in 2024). And then, the unthinkable happened: Justin Trudeau resigned. He would be replaced by Mark Carney, a position he retained following a snap election later in the year.

To appease the new zeitgeist, Meta (parent company of Facebook and Instagram) decided to remove moderation of content on their platforms, as well as to push pages that were more political in nature (primarily conservative).

But all this was quashed by the brutal wildfire in Los Angeles (which, undoubtedly, was a Republican plot to destroy more parts of the Democratic stronghold. I jest, of course, but maybe there is some merit to it? I like to think so, anyway). Many homes, including those belonging to celebrities, were destroyed. The community, though, came together and looked to restore what had been lost.

January also saw the first of a ceasefire from Israel and Hamas. Further strikes would launch in March. There would be another ceasefire and then more conflict. Israel, as always, proving to be the instigator in many of the atrocities in Gaza. As the conflict heated up over the course of 2025, protests would be held to stop the fighting. However, like a cornered animal, Israel would continue to lash out – striking out at enemies in Iran, Syria and even a base in Qatar. It is not until late 2025 that a peace plan is signed though Israel would continue to launch several attacks on Palestinians in Gaza (and even send missiles towards Lebanon).

2025 also saw additional competitors to US generative AI modules, including the likes of DeepSeek (which was created using open-source and at much cheaper costs than US equivalents). While this shakes the market, AI technology would continue to dominate. As of time of writing up this post (Christmas Day), the bubble has yet to burst.

Late January would see Donald Trump ascend once more as the president of the United States of America. This is in spite of the fact he was impeached before AND was found guilty of several felonies. As one of his acts, Trump threatens tariffs for Mexico and Canada while also placing heavy tariffs on China. These would be delayed multiple times but he would later place a blanket 10% for all countries that would go into effect come August. Many other trading blocs impose reciprocal tariffs though there would also be several countries who would negotiate with the US to lessen the blow to their respective industries affected. Even Australia would throw its hat in the ring though the wins were few.

In other parts of the world, Sara Duterte, the vice-president of the Philippines would be impeached. Sweden suffered a mass shooting at a local school. In support of ousted president, Yoon Suk Yeol, there was the rise of the White Skull Squad in South Korea.

Back in the US, Elon Musk would be assigned to the Department of Government Efficiency (or DOGE for short). They would fire many federal workers only to rehire some of them. This was mostly due to the DOGE only having a shallow understanding of many important roles.

The US would also see the mass deportations of Venezuleans to an El Salvador prison despite no proof they were part of criminal gangs. However, it would not stop there. ICE would grab civilians off the streets if they believed the person was an unlawful non-citizen. Mass protests would ensue in several major cities. This, unfortunately, would lead to crackdowns from the Trump administration where the National Guard would be sent in (without the consent of the State governor).

As 2025 marched on, ex-Philippines president Duterte (father of Sara Duterte) would face trial at the International Criminal Court. The Sudanese army would seize the presidential palace in Khartoum following two years of civil war. In Turkiye, protests would erupt as a presidential challenger is detained.

There would also be smaller events including the leaking of US military plans to a journalist who was mistakenly added to a Signal group. Wildfires would ravage Korea and the Unification church in Japan was ordered to be dissolved. In Myanmar and Thailand, a earthquake would kill hundreds. Elsewhere in the world, Pakistan would repatriate approximately 80,000 Afghans who had fled to the country.

Early 2025, with DOGE still running rampant, also saw Tesla stocks fall drastically. Thousands would protest, causing damage to Tesla dealerships or attacking owners of the cars themselves.

In some mixed news, three direwolf pups would be brought back from extinction.

Alas, the world would continue to fall into disrepair. Following an appearance int he Vaitcan city on Easter Sunday, Pope Francis would pass away. In his stead, Pope Leo XIV would be elected. The first American to ever be elevated to such a role.

As we headed towards the middle of 2025, tensiosn would rise between Pakistan and India following a mass shooting in a popular tourist spot in Kashmir. Southern Iran would suffer a chemical explosion, and Spain and Portugal would endure a massive blackout. Back in the US, Trump would sign an executive order to cut funding to public news outlets (a win to many who have lost faith in traditional media though getting the news from social media is, in my mind, presumably worst).

In a complete upset (though it came as a relief to me), Labor wins the Australian election in May. Peter Dutton, Opposition leader, would lose his seat. Reshuffling afterwards, Sussan Ley would take the reins. They would also see a split from the Nationals though the Coalition would reform after a week. The People’s Action Party, another incumbent government, would also win its 14th consecutive election in Singapore.

As the year rolled on, India would strike nine sites in Pakistan. In retalitation, Pakistan would shoot down five Indian aircrafts. Back in the US, Trump would be offered a private plan by Qatar to replace Air Force One. Joe Biden would then be diagnosed with prostate cancer. And, in the state of New york, a Mexican ship would crash into the Brooklyn Bridge.

Prior to Ukraine-Russia peace talks, a massive drone attack is launched on a Russian military base. Ukraine would also hit the bridge between Russia and Crimea (mostly to establish some breathing space). Unfortunately, 2025 would see the tides turn and Russia would gain more ground. As of the writing of the post, no peace plan would be formally adopted.

With many elections across the world, there would be more disruptions: Karol Nawrocki would win the Poland presidential election and Lee Jae-Myung would snap up South Korea’s leading spot. In the Netherlands, the far-right leader would quit the rocky coalition and their government collapses.

Back in the US, the One Big Beautiful Bill passes in Congress. This sees a rift form between Trump and Elon Musk, with the tech billionaire forming a new political party in opposition. Whispers of Trump’s involvement with Epstein would then begin to swirl. Ultimately, the files (heavily redacted) would release in late December.

Summer in the northern hemisphere would bring more tragedy, including severe flooding in Texas, killing hundreds. New York would also endure a flooding and Europe would face ever more severe heatwaves.

Elsewhere, conflict would arise between Cambodia and Thailand.

And as Israel proves recalcitrant in its bombing of Gaza, many countries harden their stance against it and choose to recognise Palestine as an independent state. Including, of course, Australia.

As August rolls through, postal services to the US are halted due to tariffs on goods lower than specific threshold. For Australians looking to send packages over, shipping resumes at the end of September.

September also saw a huge military parade in China featuring the likes of Putin, Kim Jung Un and previous leader of the Victorian Labor Party: Daniel Andrews. In Indonesia, protests break out – mostly against rising injustice and corruption among the elite. Similarly, Nepal also sees violent protests led primarily by Gen Z. The Nepal PM resigns and the capital burns.

Though there are no violent protests, the Prime Minister of Japan resigns (Sanae Takaichi would then be elected as the new leader of the Liberal Democratic Party) and the French one loses a no-confidence vote.

Conflict continues to stoke the world as 2025 rolls towards the end. Poland is forced to shoot down drones purportedly from Russia. In the Philippines, protests continue regarding overt corruption. Electronic Arts (EA) is purchased for $55 billion by Saudi conglomerates and goes private. In the US, Trump claims there is a strong link to paracetamol (or, acetaminophen) and autism (spoiler alert: there isn’t. The real link is most likely between high fevers and their possible impact on developing foetuses).

And, for forty days, the US government would go into shutdown. This was primarily over the lack of subsidies for health care. Following a victory in the New York mayoral election (with Zohran Momdani), eight Democrats would vote in favour to pass the budget in the Republicans favour. Trump would later sign an executive order exempting food from tariffs as inflation on grocery bills begin to bite.

Across the world, though, there would be a student led coup in Madagascar. After the president flees, the military takes over. In France, burglars would steal the Napoleanic jewels from the Louvre.

To the devastation of many, the AWS cloud unit goes down, disurpting hundreds of other platforms and websites. This would happen again when Microsoft Azure goes down. A Cloudflare outage also crashes several sites.

In royal news, the Queen Mother of Thailand, Queen Sirikit passes away. Prince Andrew, following further accusations, is stripped of his titles and is asked to leave the Royal Lodge.

With 2025 nearing the end, both New Delhi and Islamabad suffered a bombing attack. A massive fire would break out in Hong Kong, killing up to 161 people. In Benin, there was a failed coup attempt. But it was the acquisiton of Warner Bros Discovery by Netflix that surprised many. Though the deal has yet to go through, many are fearful what this could mean for the movie industry.

Back in Australia, we saw under 16s banned from social media. And, in a shocking display of cold calculation, there was a mass shooting down at Bondi Beach during a Chanukah event by extremists.

Once again, seeing how the events of the world has shaken out over the course of the year has further outlined how hate and divison had shaped politics and the way many see the world. This has only been further stoked by populist leaders looking to win clout by sowing seeds of fear and taking advantage of the pain many people feel. While I would like to think 2026 would see a return to normalcy, I cannot help but feel like we’re on a speeding train, headed towards disaster. Distrust runs rampant and society is fracturing at the seams. Authoritarianism is on the rise, corruption is rife and many world leaders look first to themselves rather than the people they serve.

But though the outlook looks bad, there is still hope. After each tragedy, people come together in the best of ways. They donate. They check in. And they uplift.

I just wish we got to see the best of humanity more often. Yet selfless acts of kindness are few and far between. And despite my jaded and cynical outlook on life, I cannot help but look for the light. There is too much wrong with the world. Why cannot we, as a people, choose to leave it a better place than we found it?

The Writing Corner

Tag: personal blog