19 articles

Travel has a way of unravelling us. It stretches our boundaries and expands our horizons, but in the movement, we often lose the steady pulse of our daily rituals. After eight months on the road, I’ve realised that protecting your practice isn’t about rigid adherence to a schedule; it’s about finding the spaces that help you return to yourself—the ones that feel less like a workout and more like medicine.

This isn’t a fitness routine. It isn’t a fad diet, calorie counting, or a 30-day reset. It’s something quieter, deeper, and far more sustainable. It’s a relationship. A relationship with your body, built on understanding rather than control.

There are people in our lives who remind us to play; the ones who make you want to cartwheel on the beach, run along the sand, or balance, laughing, in a rock pool in warrior three. On my Koh Samui retreat, there was one such person: Bronte.

In the tapestry of our lives, certain individuals appear at pivotal moments, their presence seemingly orchestrated by forces beyond our comprehension. These encounters often feel serendipitous, yet within the framework of yogic philosophy, they are seen as manifestations of divine timing, guiding us toward growth and self-realisation.

In times past, people could retreat into caves or forests in search of clarity, stepping away from the noise until answers arrived in silence. Today, life feels far less simple. We are constantly pulled in different directions, with advice, expectations, and ideas about wellness and success coming at us from all sides. Each day presents countless small choices: what to eat, how to spend our time, who we spend it with, and even how we speak up for ourselves. Learning to say no with kindness and without guilt is not just about the big decisions; it’s about honouring these small choices, nurturing self-respect, and creating balance in everyday life.

Most people go to Thailand for the temples, the history, the food, the colour and chaos. There’s something for everyone, from family adventures to the wild nightlife of Patong. But for us, at least on this visit, it became something quite different.

Sri Lanka is often painted as a tropical dream, with endless beaches, warm smiles, and jungle adventures. But beyond the postcard moments lies a raw and untamed beauty that asks you to slow down, adapt, and embrace its imperfections. This isn’t a trip that always runs to plan, and that’s where the magic begins.

Sri Lanka’s magic isn’t found in a rush. It reveals itself slowly — in the curve of a coastal bay, the shadow of an elephant at dawn, and the mist that clings to tea hills. This route takes you from the island’s sunlit shores through its wild heartlands and into the green embrace of the hill country.

Kuala Lumpur, a city that served as a stopover en route to Sri Lanka, could be the gateway to something extraordinary. A city where colonial architecture meets sleek skyscrapers, where incense drifts through ancient temples just blocks away from air-conditioned malls, and where the rhythm of a Southeast Asian metropolis pulses beneath every step.

Yes, I’ve been to some incredible places over the last few months. But what I’ve realised is that when you don’t have a “home” to go back to, or more importantly, no clear end date, even the most remarkable experiences begin to feel… normal. And normal, when stretched too long, loses its magic.

Four months ago, I packed up my perfectly curated Melbourne life, placed it neatly into a 3x3 storage cage, and boarded a one-way flight. Since then, I’ve travelled through Bali, Vietnam, Cambodia, Kuala Lumpur, and Sri Lanka, with Thailand just around the corner.

There are places in the world that don’t just ask you to visit—they invite you to feel. Cambodia is one of those places. Thick with memory, gilded with devotion, and humming with life, it offers a kind of travel that moves beneath the surface. This isn’t a country for rushing through. It’s a country for pausing, listening, and letting the stories rise from the land itself.

A reflection on slowing down, shedding layers, and returning to self through travel. There’s this idea we’re sold, that travel should be a rush. To see the world is to move quickly from country to country, ticking off iconic sights and staying “on the go.” I thought that energy would sustain me.

There was a time when wellness travel felt like a luxury reserved for the few. A distant dream of remote retreats, all-inclusive spas, and Instagrammable jungle sanctuaries. But something has shifted. Wellness is no longer a destination; it’s a way of travelling, of seeing, of being. And now, it’s becoming more accessible, more intentional, and more beautifully human.

Ninh Binh is a quieter soul in northern Vietnam — a patchwork of rice fields, rivers, and limestone cliffs that echo the shape of Ha Long Bay, but on land. Known as the ancient capital of Hoa Lu, this region has an energy that invites slow travel and quiet awe.

There’s a certain beauty in packing not just clothes or chargers, but your rituals. A yoga mat, a journal, snacks that feel good, shoes that let you walk for miles — these are tools that shift travel from hectic to healing.

The truth about my last London visit is. It was a lot. London is the city which I visit the most frequently. London is a place that used to feel busy and full of good tourists; this time, I have to admit it felt stressful, overpopulated and chaotic for me. I still love the place but must adjust my expectations for my next visit. On my next trip, I would allow more days or reduce the number of things I wanted to do. When you cannot slow down the location, you must slow down how you experience it.

A time away from home is a precious thing, a time to reflect, recalibrate and live a little slower, maybe even in a more considered way. Living in a city such as Melbourne with the remnants of the last few years still so raw for many the idea of visiting a place so unique and protected from external influences as Daylesford is a treasured opportunity.

Live in Melbourne? Love Design? Need a break from city living? I think Ross Farm might be the place for your next getaway.