I can't imagine life without the outdoors. It's outside I go running when life gets too hard and I get into my own head. I've been to some pretty spectacular places in my life, and am lucky to live in a country full of incredible nature, from the mountainous High Country in Victoria to desert places and ocean beaches. I've also been lucky enough to travel, and more and more I'm gravitating toward wild places, avoiding the cities that are overcrowded and hectic. In the wilds my breath slows and my nervous system becomes less frazzled.

But the landscapes I've chosen here are ones with good stories attach - a few places that had *big landscapes, but whose richness comes from natural beauty but also the histories and people that live there too.

Franklin Gordon Wild Rivers National Park, Tasmania

Did you know that in 1982, protests against the proposed Franklin Dam led to the formation of the Greens? Me neither, but it shows how passionate people were about the incredible natural environment in Tasmania, Australia - something we know is important to protect for it's biodiversity.

In the early 1970's, the Tassie government gave the Hydro Electric Commission permission to build dams which flooded natural basins like Lake Pedder and caused crazy amounts of damage to the natural environment and habitat loss - at least two inverterbrae species became extinct. Because there was so much protest against it, the government just removed it's protected status, which allowed the dam to go ahead.

Then, in the 80's, television news was full of shots of protestors passionately opposing the damming of the Franklin. THe HEC wanted to provide cheaper industry and more jobs, but that meant flooding this vast wilderness area. There was a lot of pressure on the state government (which were pretty much ignoring what the federal government wanted) by environmental groups like the Wilderness society. I recall, even when I was really young and couldn't give a shit about the news, feeling moved by 10,000 odd people marching on the streets of Hobart protesting against the proposed dam. Finally, the state Labor government added the Franklin to the Wild Rivers National park, protecting it from damming.

Say what you like about the Greenies or a Labor government, but they do fulfil an important role in protecting the wilderness. Currently the big concern is logging and mines.

We were allowed onto the Franklin via a track that we had to register to drive along, meeting the guy from Parks Tasmania to get the key and wash our vehicles down to prevent carrying fungus into this incredible world heritage area. We passed the helipad where the huge 'NO DAMS' sign was painted, still visible decades later. We hiked down an incredibly steep slope to finally see the Franklin below, and swim in it. I swear to God it was one of the most beautiful views I had ever seen. I cried when I saw it. These places are special and must be protected at all costs.

Mount Agung, Amed, Bali

'Can you outrun lava in a scooter' was the question on our lips for this one, as we watched Agung chuff and smoke and send columns of volcanic ash skyward, grounding flights and evacuating the people that lived in the path of the lava flow. It had happened decades before, killing many people, who didn't have the understanding or the forewarning to outrun it. I've included this volcano as it's a reminder how the earth beneath our feet isn't as stable as we imagine. We look out on these incredible vistas - mountains, plains, oceans - and forget how they were formed, and how easily the human civilisation that we hold dear can easily be washed away by varaiations of flood and fire.

How extraordinary it was to dive into the beautiful ocean at it's feet and see turtles, then come up for air and see the volcano belching.

Glastonbury Tor, Somerset, United Kingdom

When you live in the UK, you can't help but miss big vistas like Australia. Everything is smaller, unless you're out on the dales and moors. When I got homesick or depressed, I'd head straight to Glastonbury Tor, because I could go up and see all the way to the Bristol Channel and across the Somerset levels, often covered in mist so the tor (an old English word for mountain or high place) would appear an island. It's King Arthur country, a place infused with spirit.

But the first view of the tor is from the roadside and the car window, and to see the building on top always takes my breath away. 'There it is!' I breath, excited. It's one of the first places we go when we go 'home'. We park in a secret back entrance and walk through a lane, a stile and a grove of hawthorns before we join the main path and walk up to sit for hours and just breath in the view and the ancient beauty of the place.

Artefacts found here date to the Iron Age and Roman times - in fact, in this area you can find a lot of Roman pottery on the old roads and by ways, or a coin if you're lucky. In Saxon and early medieval times there was a monk's hermitage here or a church, and the head of a wheel cross was also found dating possibly to the 10th century.The old church was destroyed in a 1275 earthquake, and the existing heritage listed church tower was built in the 14th centry, though it's been restored and rebuilt many times.

Some days there'd be no one up there at all, save us wrapped in warm clothes, and some days, like midsummer's eve, it's alive with drumming and dancing.

The ordnance survey Somerset walking maps take you across the fields and woods and farms to end up at the Tor - it's visible from a long distance, a focal point of the landscape. During lockdown we spent a whole day walking here, with ginger nuts and crackers with Somerset cheese to fuel our journey, avoiding the gates that had pleading signs to avoid because of fears of COVID. It was a time where outdoor life was everything - it kept us sane in a world gone mad. The ancient vistas of the tor and the views from the top were humbling and put things into perspective.

Sapa, Vietnam

When in the north of Vietnam we did the UNESCO site of Halong Bay, and found it beautiful, but crowded, and thus left the coast for the mountains, which seemed more real to us. Indeed it was quieter and more peaceful. The thing to do was to hike with the hill tribes, stay in their houses, and experience their life. But of course, we don't do the things suggested.

At the markets we were followed by a tiny woman called Bao, who tried to sell me jewellery (I eventually succumbed, and still have the silver bracelet). She was from the H'Mong, the 'blue' tribe as opposed to the 'red', who most of the tourists went with. After much negotiation, we decided to brave going into the mountains with her family for two days.

The walk was hard and muddy, and a lot of the time I was assisted by two young woman who insisted on holding onto my elbows and I slipped and slid in my sandals, completely inappropriate for hiking. We passed shanty towns with roosters, ducks and chickens, young boys leading water buffalo along grassy verges, pumpkins growing on makeshift trellis, and more village life until at last we were in the middle of nowhere, miles from a proper road or any civilisation at all. They took us to their hut, which was on the other side of a track to their brother's hut, where we stayed in a loft with a floor of bamboo half rounds where a ladder had to be passed up by the people below as they used it for the mezzanine on the other side, where my son slept. Roosters crowed seemingly all night.

Food was basic - noodles and tofu in dirty bowls we eyed suspiciously. I asked for soap to wash our hands and they looked puzzled before finally bringing me a small pack of clothes washing powder. The water came off the mountain into a water tank. The floor of their kitchen was hard earth and an adjoining room without a door had a homemade bed in which an entire family slept. To say they were unprepared for western tourists was an understatement. They said they'd take us over the mountain the next day to a tribe they believed no western tourists had ever seen. We had no reason to doubt them, especially when we found out that this was the first time they had ever had tourists in their home*. In retrospect, it may not have been an idea to go with some random people we met at the market.

Needless to say, I got so sick during the night I couldn't go over the mountain and in fact I was so weak and ill I could barely walk the few hours back to a village where they found someone with motorbikes willing to drive us back to Sapa. I vomited my entire way out and it was a little scary.

However, it was one of the most raw, genuine and special experiences we had travelling and an incredible hike.

There's so many other places I could write about - the forest canopy walk in Teman Negara, Malaysia, the jungle walk and beaches of the Perentian islands, the river journey to Bagan from Mandalay in Myanmar, the Atlas Mountains in Morocco. But many of these are only in memory, the few photos I have lacking the energy and beauty that these places hold. Next year we'll be in Europe (with a side trip to Morocco) and I can't wait to capture some of the landscapes there. Rest assured, Hive folk, you'll be hearing about them!

This post was in response to @galenkp's challenge, which you can find here.

With Love,

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