A walk to Mt Feathertop

By now there will be a chill in the air in northeast Victoria.  The people in the valleys of the Alps will be preparing for an influx of tourists who will head to the ski resorts of Mt Hotham and Falls Creek. Around easter usually marks this shift – people out doing their last lot of camping before packing tents away for the winter, wineries getting visited as tourists come to the area.Now is a good time to get some walks in – before the weather becomes unpredictable and the snow begins to lie.

I’m writing this in reflective mode – I’m based in Delhi here in India at the moment and the heat is coming.  For some reason, I’m thinking of Autumn, the northeast and Mt Feathertop.

The last time I was there was over twelve months ago now – a time that feels like yesterday.  I took the easy way (a drive up to Diamantina Hut where the car was left, then a walk out and back in the day).  But the best way up, to feel the contours of the Feathertop landscape, is from Harrietville – a two day, strenuous walk taking you up from the valley to Feathertop’s summit.

Here are a couple of images:

Brian Feathertop

On the high plains – along the way to Mt Feathertop

On the way to feathertop

Looking out over the Alps, on the way to Feathertop

 

The track to Mt Feathertop. Feathertop is obscured by the mist

 

A Yosemite time lapse

I thought I’d share this with you all – how nice to be able to spend ten months developing this.  And how good to be able to engage with those who are looking at it. Images and film to support sustainable futures…

The film makers have been doing quite a lot on Yosemite and I’ve uploaded other examples of their work.  They can be found at brianfurze.com.au or here and here.

Yosemite HD II from Project Yosemite on Vimeo.

 

A town where you can only walk, cycle or paddle. What’s not to love?

The Huffington Post travel section has recently had a small story about a town where you can only get around by walking, cycling or paddling.  It’s called Giethoorn, and it’s found around about 55 miles (88kms) northeast of Amsterdam.  Oh, and it sits in the middle of the Weeribben-Wieden National Park.  What’s not to love??

It sounds a really interesting place for a visit…

You can see the article and some images here.

 

Connecting to place: some LoST thoughts

As I write this, I’m sitting on the terrace of my apartment in New Delhi.  The weak winter sun is leaving the terrace now, and there is a noticeable chill in the air (though not as noticeable as it was a few weeks ago – soon the heat will be back). I’ve been thinking for some reason about one of my favourite landscapes -  a place of, at least to my mind, extraordinary beauty, people very committed to their area and rich biological diversity sitting side-by-side farming landscapes.

I’m in reflective mode and its taken a little time for me to understand why specifically this should be the case.  I think it’s the parrots, sitting in the trees just across from my terrace. It’s not the specific species, just the fact that there are parrots in the trees. This favourite landscape of mine has lot’s of parrots – they’re one of my first memories of it, back when I was a kid travelling around with my father who would visit for his work. And now, after more than 40 years and countless visits of my own, it is very deeply etched into my memories, my work, my life and my sense of identity.

The landscape I’m thinking about is one where I’ve camped, cycled, walked, canoed, photographed, worked with communities in planning sustainable futures, and all kinds of things.  I’ve been their on my own, with friends, with students, with colleagues, with family.

These connections are multi-layered. They are partly framed by my values and ethics (and in turn the landscape actually frames them), partly by memories of sights, sounds, meetings, discussions, sunrises, moon-rises, chill in the air in autumn, cold in the air in winter,  heat in the air in summer and who knows what else.

For me, LoST is ultimately about these multiple connections to landscapes and their people.  These don’t have to be (and don’t need to be) developed over X years of visiting – they can be developed through a slow trip through a landscape. What is important is we are open to these connections, these multiple points of being part of a landscape.  It is a state of mind, an ethical framework, and a value-base and they come together in a landscape.

How often do we hear people implore travellers to ‘keep their mind open’ for experiences.  But for me, the important thing is how we actually interpret and reflect on these experiences, not just ‘experience’ them. Without this reflection, we just superficially experience – we grab yet some more experiences and they become part of our travelling life.  But they don’t have the depth of connection and interpretation that is only possible as we move towards our own approach and interpretation of local, slow travel.

In a tiny corner of the landscape…

So as I sit here on the terrace, a little chillier now, the parrots represent my ‘now’, but they also represent my connection to a landscape on the other side of the world. We don’t have to be in the landscape to remember it, we just need to be able to feel its connections with us. And when we feel this, that landscape has become an important part of us, and we have actively engaged with it, in our own way. And it’s a nice feeling.