G'day! F*** you.

I must be careful about hand signals.  One of the first things I did on arriving in Istanbul was give a thumbs-up (one thumb, that is -- Aussie for "good") to the shuttle bus driver collecting me from the airport.  In Greece and some Middle East countries (between which two regions Turkey sits) it means "fuck you."  Istanbul is cosmopolitan enough for it to be safe, but I have to get out of the habit while I'm travelling.  The other Aussie favourite, the forefinger-and-thumb circle for OK, would call a Greek a poofter.

Turkish Airlines

Wow.  Turkish Airlines hands out ear plugs, eye masks and in-flight socks to the passengers.  Who does that anymore? Clearly nobody, as I just got excited over ear plugs, eye masks and in-flight socks.  Shame their seats are garish turquoise and they make their stewardesses wear frumpy tunics.

Half chaps and jodhpurs

Well, this is going to be interesting.

Just picked up some riding gear for the trip: a helmet (mandatory) and some half chaps—zippered gaitors that fit snug around the calves.  I told the bloke at the shop I was going on a two-week horse riding trek and am a complete beginner.  His face said it all: "You sucker city slicker.  You're in for a world of hurt."

I told the bloke I just wanted the cheapest.  This ride is getting more and more expensive (fellow city slickers, don't take up riding if you're saving for a house).  The organiser of the ride suggested bringing jodhpurs (tights for horseback, like bike pants), but I told the bloke at the shop I hoped to just get away with jeans.  "An hour in the saddle—fine," he said.  "All day riding for two weeks?  You're going to lose all the hairs on the inside of your legs, saddle sores, ingrown hairs... mate, you will be ready to trade your eye-teeth for jodhpurs."

Maybe he was motivated to make a sale, or maybe he just wanted to see me in tight pants (this is where I mention the bloke was gay), but I was convinced.  Or afraid.  Anyway, I bought the jodhpurs.

Quanti giorni manca?

II have been inspired to go to Italy.  It wasn't on my original itinerary, but from northern Greece to Puglia it's quite close.  Anyway, my itinerary was so focussed on Eastern Europe that I was needing some Romance.  Italy will do  nicely.  I've deliberately left my plans open, so maybe I'll drop Romania (which was in question anyway for time) and do southern Italy properly.  Why not?  Lecce.  Napoli.  And Pompeii!  It's an adventure.

First lesson

When I signed up for the horse riding trek, I told the organiser I was a beginner. Only later did he realise what I meant by that.

"Uh...  you better get some lessons," he said.

So, Sunday was my first ride. It was just around the ring, but the instructor said she was very impressed. Years of correct posture and yoga paid dividends and I was trotting comfortably in no time at all. Next week I'll get up to cantering, and in a few weeks' time I'm planning a weekend trail ride and camp.

But for now, I'm getting very well acquainted with some new muscles.

Relief

A few years ago I read about a charity organisation called Relief Riders, which transports medical supplies and expertise into rural areas of India on horseback.  It's funded as a horse riding trek for adventurous travellers looking for something different.  Paying guests volunteer to assist setting up the medical tents and register the villagers, and the medical supplies are subsidised by the cost of the tour.  I didn't have plans to visit India, but always thought if I did I would do the relief ride.

This year Relief Riders announced they will for the first time be riding in Turkey.  General medical care is much better in Turkey than it is in rural India but dental services are lacking.  The relief ride will provide dental treatment in villages in the dramatic region of Cappadocia where, as luck would have it, I was already heading.  Kismet?  So I've signed on.  The ride is from 17-30 June and visits the spectacular volcanic landscape of "fairy chimneys" (known in the US as hoodoos), tall spires of stone into which the Turkish locals fashioned houses from carved caves centuries ago.

I probably should mention that I don't know how to ride a horse.

Europe 2011

The Lead Line is stirring from slumber below deck as Europe returns on the horizon.

This year, beginning in mid-June, the feature country and starting point will be Turkey. After three weeks of horseback trekking, Roman ruins and dental surgery, I'll move onto finding Atlantis in the Greek islands, whitewater rafting in one of the world's deepest canyons in Montenegro, and discovering what there is to discover in Romania and Bulgaria.

Vivid

The Vivid Sydney Festival, a new annual event for the city, is a celebration of light and music that features a new guest curator every year.  Last year, the inaugural festival boasted godfather of ambient music Brian Eno; this year, it's husband and wife team, Lou Reed (what a step down) and Laurie Anderson.  Throughout the month of music performances and art installations, major buildings in the city are splashed with rotating shades and shapes of light, and the white sails of the iconic Opera House are used as a blank canvas for projecting storeys-tall images.

On Saturday, I took my camera to Campbell's Cove to shoot a free performance on the harbour called "Fire Water," a cross-cultural combination of Aboriginal smoke ceremony and Bollywood-inspired dance interpreting the wreck of the Sydney Cove.  In 1797, the merchant ship sailed from Calcutta and sank off the coast of Tasmania.  The performance culminated with the arrival in the cove of a ghostly tall ship so fully rigged with ethereal blue and magenta lights as to seem constructed of light itself.

Festivities continued around the corner in The Rocks, the old historical part of Sydney, with the open-air night markets.  Beneath the undulating tent peaks I strolled between stalls selling smooth wooden bowls of redgum and coolibah, hip fashion and jewellery from Paris, tapered candles in pinks and oranges, framed photographs and rich-smelling specialty chocolates.  At the end of the stalls, a flamenco performance broke out.

A troupe from the local dance school El Duende Flamenco, led by a handsome Chinese woman in a fuschia frock and overseen by a Spanish matron, tapped, clapped and twirled to live flamenco guitar.  Half a dozen women in full-length frilled dresses with fans and castanets spun, flickered and clacked.  A man in a round, broad-rimmed hat and cumberbund clicked his heels, and a little girl of nine or ten stole the show when she fanned her dress and pleated her fan in a flamboyant solo.

The explosion of colours in the dresses and the lights were a photographer's candy store.  Check out some of my shots.

Photos: Montenegro

Montenegro 2009

I was going to do these photos in order, but I got bored with Bruges so jumped straight to Montenegro.

Damn bug.

It is almost four months since I returned to Sydney.  In that time I haven't at all started to think about my next trip, which I expect will be in 2011.

The next trip always begins with a spark.  A shot in a film, or something I read in a book or see on television.  Suddenly, my interest is piqued in a place.

Today I saw, on TV, Petra, Jordan.  Zap.