Discovering the Beauty and History of Faro, Portugal

On the beautiful Atlantic Ocean coast sits the small town of Faro; a town of contrasts and the best piri piri chicken in Algarve

Where possible. I always prefer train travel when exploring Europe. I’ve done the hire car thing a few times but find it stressful; trying to park, paying for parking and the whole ‘driving on the wrong side of the road’ business. I love a slow-travel experience, the downtime for writing and reading, and just watching the landscape speed past. Olive trees, grape vines, and Tassie blue gums swishing past in a swirl of muted greens. Hay stacks, cows and sunshine! All while sipping a cold Estrella and gnawing on some jamon and kicking back. It’s the summer daydreams are made of.

On a recent trip to Spain and Portugal, I set the itinerary to the train timetable and chose stopovers according to their ease of access to train stations, connections, and points of interest. Being our first trip to Portugal, we planned to visit the major cities of Porto and Lisboa, but as I’m ever the bird nerd and nature-nut, I also wanted to hang with the birds and lose myself in wilderness.

For the Algarve part of our trip, we chose Faro. Firstly because it was a single two-hour train journey from Lisboa. Two hours being the optimum time for train relaxation and people watching. Faro, or Cidade de Faro is the southern most city and capital of the district of Faro. It forms part of the Algarve region and from my research had some interesting historical points.

The area was known as Ossonoba in the 4th Century BC and it was the most important urban centre of southern Portugal; a commercial port for agricultural products, fish, and minerals. Later came the Romans, then the Byzantines, and then the Visigoths, before the area was conquered by the Arabic-speaking Muslims known as Moors in 713.

From the third century onwards and during the Visigothic period, it was the site of an Episcopal see, the Ancient Diocese of Ossonoba (306-688). The Byzantine built the towers of the city walls during the Byzantine period. Following 500 years of Moorish rule the Moors were defeated and expelled in 1249 by the forces of the Portuguese King Afonso III. The rest they say, is history and a very rich one it is!

It’s also right on the shores of nature-lovers Parque Natural da Ria Formosa. The Ria Formosa (Beautiful Estuary) is an estuary park of natural canals, islands, marsh lands and sandy beaches. The park extends 60 km along the coast. It’s home to a diverse range of flora and fauna, including hundreds of species of birds, marine mammals and shellfish.

My first impression of Faro the town on the short taxi trip from the train station to our accommodation? I had an instant and overwhelming urge to get back on the train and continue to the more popular tourist destination of Lagos. I had my phone out searching for train fares to Lagos before I had even given Faro half a chance.  Which is not like me at all to have such a visceral reaction to a place.

Like many towns and cities in Portugal old buildings in Faro are in a state of decay and because Faro is a small town/city it was shocking that such a large proportion were in ruins and not just one or two buildings in a street. Entire streets of buildings had been consumed by graffiti and were turning to rubble; centuries old and now irreparable. Quite beautiful in a warzone kind of way.

When I spoke to one of the locals about this later, he said despite there being an accommodation crisis in Portugal, houses fall into disrepair when the older generations pass, and their children and grandchildren don’t have the money or the will to restore or maintain the ancient buildings. Some of them are also owned by the state who also have no intention to restore them. Portugal has some grand architecture and it’s sad to see it so bereft.

Once my partner and I settled into our gorgeous accommodation, Lemon Tree Stay, a cosy bed and breakfast surrounded by tumbling down structures on all sides, we went to explore. The old town is fortressed by the obligatory ancient stone fortress walls and paved with beautiful mosaics. The paved streets took us away from the decay of the abandoned buildings and I could see Faro had another side. A side where wealthy American and European tourists could dine out and shop at high-end shops. Such contrast.

What we discovered over the days we spent in Faro was a town of beauty, history and contrasts catering to a range of tourism styles from the tourist seeking Michelin star restaurants and oysters by the sea, to the tourist seeking small bars and churrascarias (local grill restaurants) and a more authentic experience where locals hang out. It was in the back streets that we eventually discovered the most amazing piri piri chicken. The old buildings and churches including the macabre Capela dos Ossos (Bones Chapel) are worth a look. Most restaurants in this part of the town cater to seafood lovers.  

For our first meal, my partner and I found a local bar where we ordered a plate of mussels, cheese and olives. The Casa da Ginja Bar in Faro is the place to try the local cherry liquor, Ginja, a sweet drop served in a small dark chocolate cup to be eaten after you have drained it. So we decided it was mandatory to have one to start with and then one to finish. It certainly put a warm glow on my initial impression of the town.

Following our feast and warmed by the Ginja I canceled the hastily booked train tickets to Lagos, and we decided to give the town a chance and explore as far and as wide as we could.  We were not disappointed.

I knew the Ria Formosa Natural Park was right on our doorstop so I booked an eco-tour on a solar powered boat the next day to go birdwatching and get out to the beach which is not immediately accessible to Faro – there was some legwork and a boat ride required to get there. The morning of our boat trip we woke to drizzling rain, not ideal for birdwatching or beach combing, but I was excited to get into nature after spending the last eight days in the big cities of Porto and Lisbon. So, we packed some delicious tuna empanadas from the local supermarket, the obligatory tarts and some drinks for our four hour adventure.

Faro is the site of one of the largest international airports in Portugal so it was not absolutely peaceful out on the water with a constant stream of planes taking off and landing right overhead. I got the feeling our guide was not a fan of the airport traffic but he was being very diplomatic about it. Consequently we got some pretty crazy views of the big metal birds. A great spot for plane spotters! 

We were lucky to be only two of three passengers on our eco boat. Us two and a lovely German tourist in Faro for a long weekend. Our knowledgeable guide, a lovely local man who had a passion for birds and the region, kitted us out in life jackets and gave us a set of binoculars before firing up the silent motor. We noted the cloud cover hadn’t cleared, but adventure was afoot and the weather waits for no one! 

We didn’t have to glide too far before our guide pointed out our first bird, a white heron striding across the flats followed by a gull or two. We zoomed in close to the muddy islands where fiddler crabs waved their white claws at the boat almost like they expected to be rescued. Our guide informed us that locals harvest the claws from these crabs but not to worry because they regenerate! I wondered why the crabs haven’t learned to stop waving their tasty claws around. The Ria Formosa is a salt marsh affected by extreme tides. The hardy salt-tolerant Sarcocornia perennis disappears under water at high tide and emerges again into a soft island-like landscape.

Oyster buoys were scattered throughout the area, but our guide informed us that Portuguese don’t eat oysters as they can’t afford them and the ones we could see were grown by the French for French restaurants and general consumption. “And why are they grown in Portugal and not France?” He asked us. I jokingly replied “because Portuguese water is better” and he nodded his head sagely. But of course.

The birds appeared from all angles now. We saw a pair of Shell Ducks with 12 ducklings struggling against the swiftly turning tide; a black beaked gull (our guide was super excited about this one) and some swooping little terns catching fish. As we reached the quiet beach with golden sand and dunes covered in grasses and plants, our guide said he would leave us here for 50 minutes so we could explore and hopefully see nesting terns. He warned us to stay well back from nesting birds. The water was cold as we stepped off and despite my resolve to swim in the vast North Atlantic Ocean, I settled for cool toes and the soothing feel of course sand beneath my feet.

As a beach lover, this part of the trip really floated my boat. I am always happy with the wind in my hair and the sand underfoot. We found the nesting terns and viewed them from a distance as they wheeled and swooped. I stopped and took photos of the unusual dune plants before we turned to make our way back to the boat. Just before we got back to our craft, I sighted a small Kentish plover on the dunes and quickly snapped some shots. Our guide who had stayed back to have his lunch was impressed that we had found another species without his local knowledge.

The return trip was very different. By this stage, the tide had turned and all the green ‘islands’ we wove through on our way out had disappeared under water. So too the unsightly plastic oyster buoys. The current pulled us back to shore as our guide continued to point out species of birds. He informed us we wouldn’t be able to disembark in the same spot we boarded because the bridge we came under was now too low for our boat to pass. So we headed back to a jetty on the outside of the mariner.  

Before we disembarked, our guide informed us that despite the cloud cover, we had exceeded expectations and had a very good day of bird spotting with 16 species seen in all. I was happy with the morning’s bird sightings because as all birdwatchers know, sometimes you see many birds, sometimes you see none. My only regret was not seeing the flamingos that live a little further around the coast. It looks like I may just have to return.

We spent the rest of the day exploring the parts of Faro we had not yet explored. We found a big park with some exhibitionist peacocks all vying for some disinterested female peahen’s attention. We were impressed though. We also visited the local library where famous Faro poet, António Ramos Rosa (1924 – 2013) is featured in a small exhibition of his works and a mural of his face. He was very much a revolutionary who was once arrested for his beliefs and the part he played in the forming of the movement Movimento de Unidade Democrática.

Later that evening we went off in search of piri piri chicken, a dish that tourism guides had informed us was a speciality in this region. We left the paved streets of the ‘old town’ and set forth into the back streets to find a grill restaurant. Turns out we didn’t have to stray far and our noses were correct in picking up the delicious smell of grilled chicken at the popular Churrasqueira O Recife. We had a meal like no other – two generous serves of spicy chicken with fresh salad and fries, all washed down with a huge mug of beer. The constant stream of people including the local cops who came to pick up takeaway and dine at the grill, along with the local cats and pigeons kept us entertained.

When we left Faro the following morning to go Entroncamento via Lisbon, before we headed back over the border into Spain, we were sad to leave because despite first impressions this town had grown on us and I will ever remember it as Faro-dise! 

Lighthouse Kid – Lisa Ikin

Living on the lighthouses was sort of like that TV show, ‘Round the Twist’ in more ways than you think!

Forty South Tasmania

When I finished my 3-day Three Capes Track hiking experience earlier this year I realised after pitching to many publications that I probably needed to tell this story in the land it was set. So the lovely people at Forty South Magazine, a magazine I have long admired and read, took me up on my offer of tourism travel blog with a side of memoir. Enjoy 🙂

I have scanned the magazine as best I could.

Melbourne for a Moment

I haven’t visited Melbourne since before covid. Last week I spent three nights in Melbourne town. This is just one of those three days.

I woke to daylight at 6:48 am but realised it’s 3:48 Perth time and probably the usual time I wake and can’t get back to sleep anyway! Can’t sleep anymore but know from the gritty feeling behind my lids that I have a sleep deficit.

I raise the hotel room curtain to grey skies and unruly corvids prowling window ledges eight stories up. Below is a playground, but not far below – a childcare centre, a school? Five stories up – fake lawn, a sand pit and a bitumen bike track for toddlers. Rooftop recreation in the CBD.

People stir in the building adjacent – accommodation of some sort, old school box airconditioning jammed into window frames. A building that defies logic looms above – S Shaped glass construction. People on their way to work/breakfast stroll the street below.

We sit above the tops of London Plane Trees stretching to reach the light between narrow passages in this concrete jungle. The ubiquitous pigeons swoop and land, experts in city navigation and finding scraps.

I head out for a walk, leaving my partner softly snoring. A sign shouts ‘Best Steak Sandwich in Melbourne’ and workers in high-vis sip coffee from takeaway cups and scoff toasties chatting about Netflix and the night before.

Clique nightclub is still open and it’s now 7:30 am. Punters tumble out into the bright light drunken and dazed.

The bouncer gives me a resigned look as he clips the red velvet rope back into place after searching someone who wants to enter. Concealed weapons? I love that a red velvet rope has so much power.

The streets are mostly empty but for some joggers and young families with early rising children. Rowers in an eight glide across the Yarra leaving swirls where their oars have swept through the water. Street sweepers sweep streets after last night’s Christmas crowd at the Crown. Rough sleepers still asleep on benches and the hard ground.

The 24/7 gym on the river front looks sleepy – no one working out this morning. Birds flit in and around urban parks and gardens seeking insects and croissant crumbs in equal measure. The sun catches windows and highlights street signs as the city wakes. Has it even been to sleep?

Later…

Family get together – early Christmas lunch/birthday celebrations. A Christmas spread washed down with prosecco and homemade cakes. Eat fit to bursting and relax on recliners catching up with my expanded family, while the Bengal cat darts between furnishings avoiding the sticky hands of a 4 year old.

Later still…

Plans to head into the night and find some music. Live music, beers and dancing is on the agenda. An espresso martini is agreed upon as a necessary plan of action to combat the food coma.

A long tram ride through affluent Melbourne suburbia into the city for a quick change in our Stanley Kubrick inspired hotel – red corridors and doors seemingly streaked with blood. On closer examination I think it is supposed to be theatre curtains – badly drawn in both senses of the word.

Train to Brunswick following hasty espresso martini in the hotel lobby. The Union Hotel is an old-school inner city pub that still has live music – free entry. People spill onto the street and the waft of beer and hot chips escapes from the door. Dark inside even though it’s still daylight (saving) outside. We find a large square table in the lounge.

Checkerboard Lounge is setting up on the small stage, drum kit, Hammond Organ and steel guitar. Bass is yet to arrive. We order our first round of pots of beer, cold and frothy. A bowl of chips and zucchini fritters – though god knows we don’t need food!

The band sound checks, clattering drums and guitar riffs, silencing the 80s soundtrack playing in the background. ‘Twang’ – take that Hall and Oats, ‘Thump thump crash!’ no more Abba and sickly sweet nostalgia.

The chips arrive and despite a full stomach I can’t resist a taste – just the right salty oily taste.

My sister declares them the BEST she’s ever had, but maybe it’s like that declaration I heard a long time ago about live music, that at any given time any band can be the best band in the world?

Checkerboard Lounge start their set, our toes tap under the table until one of us (my sister) breaks away. “I’m going in” she declares as she grabs her beer and disappears into the lounge. We all follow. Dancing is necessary with the drummer who doubles as the singer whips the crowd into a frenzy. The espresso martini kicks in and three beers later they are playing their last song.

It’s only 10:30. Are we up for more adventure? Yes, why not? There’s a bar up Sydney Road, Bar Oussou that plays world music. We jump in the car and our trusty skipper gets us right outside. It’s impossible to enter the bar without dancing – a nine piece band is crowded onto the narrow stage elbow to elbow.

They thump and whoop the crowd into some body shaking moves. Before we know it it’s almost midnight and the band says they have two songs left. With each song lasting 15 minutes that’s another 30 minutes of booty shaking and our feet are feeling the pinch. Sweat pools and punters spill out onto the footpath where they continue their moves under the street lights. A couple rumba cheek to cheek while others smoke cigarettes.

The music stops and starts and then stops and we stumble to the car with ears ringing and smiles from ear to ear. Back at the Stanley Kubrick Hotel we fall into bed for our last night of sleep in Melbourne town.

The Great Library Crawl – Part 2

As I continue my great library crawl I visit suburban libraries in vastly different places – from Morley to Peppermint Grove. I even find the library in Parliament House, and one named after one of WA’s fave rocker’s mothers!

Library #5 to #8 in my Great Library Crawl begins in Peppermint Grove.

Peppermint Grove Library

Peppermint Grove, where no one has to put out their bins (so I am told) is one of Perth’s well-to-do suburbs. Even well-to-do suburbs have libraries and anyone can visit them. Does this make libraries the great equalisers?

Anyway, the Peppermint Grove Library, or ‘The Grove’ was very much like any library and had everything a library visitor could wish for – spacious and welcoming with a bustling kids zone and a brilliant collection of travel mags for me to browse through and come up with another pitch.

The cafe wafted caffeine my way but I was already sated so I didn’t try their wares. A library cafe is such a great addition to a library – Book cafe on steriods!

I do have a memory of Peppermint Grove Library from my teaching years. I attended an award presentation when one of my students was presented with a literary award.

Morley Public Library

A trip to one of my least favourite places, the indoor shopping centre at Morley Galleria (fondly renamed ‘gonorrhea’ by my teens) had me fleeing for a haven of peace and quiet. In a nondescript building within walking distance of Galleria is the Morley Public Library.

A brilliant mural makes this 80s brick bunker with no windows, somewhat funky. The library delivered, with many quiet nooks and computer spaces and of course a great collection of books!

Ruth Faulkner Library & Museum – Belmont

Ok so this library is pretty specky! Ruth Faulkner is Dave Faulkner’s (of Hoodoo Guru fame) mother and the museum has some of Perth’s best rock n roll memorabilia. Of course there’s Hoodoo Gurus displays along with other well known (to Perth locals) band merch. An upright piano sits invitingly asking to be played and music snippets take you back to the good ol’ days of live music in P Town.

Ruth Falkner Library itself has this state of the art book return system that looks like it has been designed by Rube Goldberg . Talk about machines taking over the world!

And yes, it has books and mags and even a section where you can purchase items. Ticks all the boxes.

Parliament House Library – Perth

My great library crawl has taken me places I wouldn’t normally go to seek peace and quiet. The Parliament House Library, or ‘The Parliamentary Library’ was not on my list but when I chanced upon it following a work lunch in the Parliament House dining room (yes, I know!) I had to make mention.

I was not allowed to take pics but let me tell you it was very grand. All the books neatly lined up with matching covers and the most comprehensive collection of newspapers I have ever come across.

We also met and chatted with some Hansard reporters who were inbetween jobs. They were wandering around with a notepad counting swans! Yes, you heard right! The WA symbol, the black swan, is everywhere once you start looking. I am unsure of the final result, but I counted at least 30 on my way out. When you know you know!

To be continued…

I have slowed down somewhat on my library crawl because I now have my home restored – but there are still some beauties to come, a country town library and one of Perth’s jewels in the crown. Fear not, the crawl will continue albeit in a slower fashion.

All in a Day #19 – Bali in a Weekend

Three and half hours gets you to Bali from Perth. Why not go for a weekend?

Day One

As we wind through narrow streets and torrential Bali rain, we dodge scooter drivers with no rear lights, helmets or shits given. Water covers the narrow treelined roads, almost jumping out to catch our car. Our intrepid driver grips the wheel as he honks the horn gently at each corner to warn of our approach.

An hour and a half from the craziness of Bali and the International Airport we arrive at our destination, Campuhan Sebatu Resort and our Balinese host who has waited up for our arrival. I hand our relieved driver an extra 100000 Rupiah knowing he still has to drive back!

Our accomodation is lush and I slip immediately into our private plunge pool before drying off and climbing into crisp white sheets beneath the shroud of a white muslin mosquito net and the whirring sounds of the forest.

Day two

Roosters, birds and forest sounds awaken me and I know that no matter how sleep deprived I might be, the view needs to be viewed and damn I am not wrong! Soft light reveals jungle as far as the eye can see (which is not super far with my bleary eyes!) The roof of the building in front of ours has a proud statue of a rooster and the pool reflects frangipanni trees so clearly it’s hard to distinguish reflection and reality.

The water in our pool is a cool green and we have the obligatory pissing boy on the corner, waiting for the fountain to be switched on so he can piss into our pool. The sounds are times ten louder outside the room – roosters, cicadas, frogs and birds loud and encompassing. I have indeed landed in paradise!

We have a day of wandering to water falls down narrow country roads flanked by rice fields and jungle. Two Balinese with woven carry baskets balanced on their heads stroll effortlessly before us, their low murmurs floating back to us. Chickens, athletic looking Balinese chickens, with long legs and no fluff forage roadside. A proud cockeral is locked in a small wire enclosure declaring his distaste for being locked up. A fighting cock perhaps?

Bali dogs never restrained and incredibly streetwise trot around with tails in the air. They don’t care for people. Two dogs see us off as we pass their property and check out two perfectly restored split-screen combis. I walk without looking back, unleashed dogs freak me out – twice bitten, always shy!

The waterfalls are not far down the steep road. 60000 Rupiah to enter Ulu Petanu. We can hear the water thundering from the road. Below the falls are hundreds of colourful carp swimming lazily with mouths agape and tails swishing. The ground is muddy and mud squeezes through our toes and hiking sandles.

The main waterfall is where everyone stops and strips down to their swimmers for Instagram pics – most don’t venture any further up the jungle path. We leave them all behind to find ourselves alone at the next small fall where we hold onto a rope and cross the river to see if we can find the cave that is apparently close by. No luck.

When we get back to the main fall the crowds have increased and the queue to get your insta pic is long. There are entire tours with the title ‘Instagram Tours of Bali’ it really is quite amusing.

We decide to head back to paradise. Wait, what – I think we are already there! Later that afternoon we meet up with my great friend and ex-teaching partner in crime, Jim, at the Bali Green School. Our trip back down the mountain now revealed in daylight what we couldn’t see the night before. We got the grand tour. Incredible bamboo structures, classrooms with no walls (hello open planning!) No airconditioning aside from fans and the jungle.

Animals with a chance of snakes including a mini herd of cows, pigs, rabbits, a pack of Bali dogs and a jungle playground with no restrictions, where the children run wild with no shoes! Every teachers ‘duty of care’ nightmare! They even have their own ambulance (I wonder why?)

Snakes are frequently spotted and removed during the school day. At the very bottom of the grounds is a mud pit where the kids play and learn. That afternoon’s lesson had been testing floating craft and the class went home covered in mud.

The tour over, we hand back our bamboo passes and wander across the road to a cocktail bar frequented by teachers enjoying Friday drinks. The cocktails are flowing and live music pumping. Two margaritas and some loose arrangements to meet up at Bambu Indah in Ubud later, we grab a Gojek driver and head back up the mountains. Bambu Indah is designed by the same people who designed the Green School so we were expecting loads of Bamboo!

So we get to the entrance of Bambu Indah which is sort of nondescript but we had googled the property beforehand so knew what to expect. The entrance, once we had signed a waiver (yes, a waiver) was this long stone tunnel so we headed for the light! Our host simply pointed us down the tunnel and disappeared so when we arrive at the crossroads it was a ‘choose your own adventure’ type experience.

We chose a fork and ended up in this amazing bar high above the rice fields and palm tree tops. We informed the waiter we were headed for the restaurant but she ushered us to some stools and took drink orders, trying to ply us with satays. We once again said ‘no, it’s ok we are going to the restaurant but we will wait for our friend’ (Jim)

Half an hour later we noted that some people were being ushered into a bamboo lift and disappearing down below. So we wondered if we were in the right spot. We took matters into our hands and asked if we could go down in the lift. ‘yes of course!’ Oh, OK we just had to ask? We had been sitting watching the sun go down (which was incredible!) while waiting patiently to be invited!

Down we go in this rickety bamboo structure carved into the cliff only to emerge into another tunnel. It soon becomes apparent why we signed a waiver! Once again we were pointed in a general direction until we reached a fork in the path. A swinging bamboo bridge or a rocky climb? We chose the swinging bridge. We continued to select our own turns and passing very close to a rushing river before stumbling (literally) into the restaurant!

It was dark by this time and we laughed about being on a Lara Croft type adventure to get to dinner. When we arrive we are told we need a reservation and that they have no tables but we were given a spot on some steps with a pillow or two and a low table. Jim arrived about 20 minutes later after taking a wrong turn!

Had we arrived at the restaurant in the light we would have seen the beautiful fresh water pools and swinging cane chairs – It’s ok I had googled it so I knew exactly what I was supposed to be seeing!

The amusing thing was the whole time we were there a table set for three was untouched – I’m sure it was ours! Anyway, we ate from a buffet type menu where all the items on the menu were grown and foraged from the property – delicious but way more expensive that any meals we had during our stay.

Day three

A delicious Nasi Goreng breakfast on the terrace at our resort washed down with fresh pineapple juice and Balinese coffee is followed by another swim before calling up a Gojek driver for an excursion into Ubud.

We have massage and day spa on our mind so following a wander through the town we settle on a small massage spa up a very steep stairway. Shoes off before we head up to be pummeled and scrubbed to within an inch of our lives! Two hours later and still wiping the petals off from our flower bath we decide to go to lunch.

Sun Sun Warung had been recommended as the place to go for eats so we found a lovely spot overlooking the rooftops and ordered the blue rice Nasi Goreng and an Arak cocktail. All food was served in banana leaf containers and it was so delicious, spicy and aromatic, I will have dreams about it for a very long time!

A Balinese painter balances in front of us on a bamboo scaffold wearing jeans and a hoody with bare feet. We are sweating in our shorts! On top of this he is within falling distance of a tangled mass of powerlines. I can’t watch!

We head back for a quiet night with some snacks and plans to relax by and in our pool. Bliss.

Day four

I woke up before the sun and crept out to capture the sunrise over Mount Agung, Bali’s highest mountain and still active volcano – last erupting in 2019. Sunrise did not disappoint!

Our flight that day was at 2:00 pm but knowing how long it takes to get from one end of Bali to the other we booked Made, our lovely driver, for 9:30 am. A swim or two while packing followed by Me Goreng and fresh juice for breakfast is a lovely way to spend our last morning. I even slip in a couple more swims after breakfast and make sure I absorb the view completely!

Bali in a weekend! We certainly packed a lot in and it truely was worth such a short trip, after all everyday can be an adventure!

What’s the skinny?

A few airlines service the Perth Bali run – we flew Air Asia which is budget but got us there and back o time with no issue. 3.5 hours from Perth

Our accomodation was pretty cheap as we went out of school holidays – Campuh Sebatu Resort is stunning and off the beaten track. Breakfast was included – delicious!

Transport around Bali is pretty easy to come by – we used Gojek (Bali Uber) and our drivers were all very accomodating. We actually hooked up with a local driver and he became our go-to for transport.

All in a Day #4 A Day in The Life of a Freelancer

Finding time to blog in 2023 is not proving as easy as I thought! This is a day in the life…

February 2023

Making time to journal or document your life is tricky when life gets busy. Unfortunately, I was lulled into the post-summer holiday’s false sense of “I have all the time in the world” earlier this month, and now I don’t have time to scratch myself.

So here goes #4 – A typical freelance writing work day.

6:00 am – up with the birds

I wake with the sun and the sound of chattering lorikeets in the trees outside my bedroom window – it’s usually 6:00 am (or earlier). As I drag myself from bed I grab some items off the bedside table – phone, glasses, and watch, always with good intentions of going for a brisk walk, a paddle, or a pilates class. Sometimes not one of those options occurs. Scooping a pair of lycra leggings from the floordrobe, I hop across to the bathroom battling gravity and the slight vertigo of getting up too quickly.

A quick check of my notifications, hoping to intercept a fantastic job offer where I can write for an hour and get paid enough to get me through to next month. No, just the usual Substack updates from writers like me who write for money but like to write for no other reason than they like to write.

 There is the occasional LinkedIn notification pleading with me to go “pro” again, teasing me with “someone has viewed your profile.”   I know from past experience that the only people who view my profile are writers like myself who are curious about what I do.    Don’t get me wrong, I have great connections through LinkedIn, and most of them bear fruit. Not this morning, however.

Somewhere between pulling on my Asics and reaching for a water bottle, my notifications ping. Once again, I am swept up in checking the latest headlines and finishing the Wordle for the day. Today is going to be the day I get it in two! Yeah right. What sort of a word is “usage”?

6:15 am – bothering the wildlife

Out the front door and down the path to the park for exercise, deep thinking, and communing with nature. I also check on the wildlife around the lake. Unfortunately, botulism has reared its ugly head, and water birds are prone to this paralysing disease during the Summer months – fortunately, fluids and a stopover in the wildlife hospital can have them back on their feet.  So I am now the weirdo walking up to ducks and asking, “are you ok?’ before scaring them into entering the water. (If they can get up, they are usually fine).

After three laps of the lake and much scrutiny of feathered friends, I am ready to return for coffee, breakfast, and work. I always set myself a time to start and get ready for work like I would if I went to an office, without the crazy peak hour traffic, school drop-offs and corporate clothing (shorts and tshirt do perfectly thank you!) I do miss my morning drive with a podcast, though, so sometimes I put one while eating breakfast, for old-time’s sake.

8:30 am – work meeting (with myself)

If it’s Monday, I start with a work meeting – me, myself, and I. We draw up a list of outstanding things from the previous week and list all those items we need to do this week. I make sure we all get to have our say, and then we delegate tasks.   My blog is an item that gets carried over and over until now! Chasing up accounts is another – why can’t people pay their bills?  

8:45 am I open my computer, log in to Google and check my emails. I have requests for social media posts, a start-up’s web content, and a Capability Statement brief. Once I have worked out my priorities, I get started. Social media posts are usually pretty quick; I have those finished in an hour. Then, I put them aside for a final read later in the day. A bunch of web content for a start-up – 50% of my time is spent researching and working out what I am supposed to be writing about.

12:00 – 1:30 – break time

Lunchtime arrives (anytime between 11:30 and 1:30), and I stop. Sometimes I will get in the car, drive to the beach, and float in the ocean for 30 minutes (yes, I time myself); it’s cheaper than paying $150 to float in a tank with woo-woo music filling my ears.   Sometimes I jump on my ebike and go for a spin – cool breeze in my hair and all that. Sometimes I turn on the TV and watch a doco to switch off my writing brain. Nothing like the dulcet tones of David Attenborough to soothe the thought process. Of course, I also eat during this time!

1:30 pm – more work

Back to work – I always feel refreshed after my lunch break and I am ready to tackle the Capability Statement (yeah, I had to ask what one of those was, too!); it’s a trumped-up version of a profile.  I sweat my way through the statement and then have a reread of any work I have completed during the day. I send any finished work to clients with an internal sigh of relief and then commence to second guess my writing ability – imposter syndrome is real. 

4:00 pm – imposter syndrome kicks in

4:00pm rolls around, and I start thinking about finishing up. I go back and check what I have already sent once more and cringe inwardly as I pick up sentences that could sound better – or could they?  Finally, I let it go and leave the computer for another day.  I check the pilates app to see if I can squeeze in a class – BINGO; there is a space. 

5:00 pilates and chill

Heading back from pilates feeling stretched and aligned on my ebike, I do another lap of Hyde Park Lake and bother the ducks again. If I have my camera, I will stop and take some snaps. Like, I need any more bird photos on my computer! Sometimes I chance bumping into my family and stop for granddaughter cuddles and family gossip.

Home for chores – taking in the washing, emptying the dishwasher, feeding the bird, and checking on the axolotls’ tank. If my partner is home, he will probably cook dinner; if he is away, I have eggs on toast. Time for some TV and then bed, where I attempt to read another two pages of my current novel. It’s two steps forward, one step back, I’m afraid. I feel my new year’s resolution to read more books slipping through my fingers like sand at the beach at lunchtime. 

Most workdays go like this – except when I am teaching small people, but that’s a whole other story!!

What’s the skinny?

  • Freelance writing can be very rewarding.
  • Australian Writers Centre hold courses for freelance copywriters, feature writers and travel writing – I did my courses with AWC but I am not affiliated with them or being paid to promote their courses.
  • If you like the idea of being your own boss and working from home this could be the career for you.
  • There is a lot of self-motivation required and some days are slow.
  • People will pay you to write for them because not everyone can write.