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A Gay Atheist Goes To Church
I’m an atheist. It’s never normally hard for me to admit that. But last time I settled myself in a city overseas, while looking for community, I found myself in a circle of Christian men that made me their prey. Personally, I’ve always found church a bit hard to swallow. Perhaps it is the remnants…
High Way to Hell
There is a fine line between discomfort and danger in the context of travel. Discomfort is that sexy stretching of one’s personal parameters in pursuit of a broader lens on life. Danger is being reckless, indulgent and getting too stoned on a night train in India. I can’t remember the exact moment my brain ascended…
Sin Palabras: Speechless in the Chilean Desert
Photo by Jens Johnsson Camping in the Atacama Desert with a group of Chilean hippies was always going to present something of a communication challenge. With my bare-bones Spanish, I had needed help just to translate the invitation. It offered a position volunteering at a weekend gathering of ceremony and traditional medicine called Vive Piuke Mapu, 150…
I Hitchhiked Around Albania
I sit in the back seat of an old Mercedes-Benz that smells like cheap tobacco and think about what I should say to the mystery man behind the wheel. Squished next to me and buried under our backpacks are Noam and Ziv, two Israeli girls I met in a hostel in Sarandë. Our driver and…
Here Is Good
I stare out the plane window at the twinkling lights in the darkness below. That’s Japan down there. Hitting the ground feels like victory: a life’s dream of coming here fulfilled in the matter of seconds. With a big smile despite my tired eyes, I step out of the arrival gate and drink in the…
Drunk on Homesickness
Seven months into a student exchange in Europe, and I’d only seen two Australians. One was guy who had little interest in reminiscing about our favourite meat pie flavours. “Mine’s bacon and cheese!” I offered. He said he didn’t care. The other was a girl whom, upon hearing her Sydney accent, I became so overwhelmed…

Astray is run by a team of writers who mostly live, work and play in lutruwita/Tasmania. With reverence, we acknowledge the Tasmanian Aboriginal people as the rightful custodians of the land, which was stolen and never ceded. We pay our respects to Elders past, present and emerging.