It’s a beautiful morning in Brisbane, and I’m writing this on my phone, instant coffee coursing through my veins, feet propped up on a janky lanai table. Here it is, or rather here I am, in real time. Premium content!

It’s fifteen minutes until lobby call, and re-purposing little quarter hour chunks of time away from aimless scrolling and in the service of self-reflection’s what being on tour’s all about.

The jet lag’s more-or-less subsided, and while my brain remains largely filled with jumbled, sleepy non sequiturs, sitting here and pecking away in my “do not disturb” fortress of solitude, mini-bar ransacked and every towel used, fills me with peaceful thoughts.

Mine’s an imperfect slice of the pie, but I’ll take it.