One Honeyment, one incredible adventure:
We timidly tasted food from Hawkers with questionable hygeine ratings in Singapore, only to discover these were like surfaces out of a Mr Muscle advert compared to places we would eat in Cambodia a week later.
We pretended to be Indiana Jones discovering lost temples and deserted forests, singing the theme tune all the way.
We walked on the moon and battled pesky flies, and stared out at incredible sunrises and starry night skies.
We saw the cricket world cup final, got confused at Ozzie Rules football, and taught Joe the appeals of netball.
We danced in the street, joined a BMF class, cycled a tandem, kayaked and surfed, did aerobics on a river bank and ran a half marathon through a kiwi sanctuary.
We traversed snow-topped mountains, giggled in the top bunk, and pushed trusty Barry up some very steep and windy hills.
We defended our national honour in a rubber dingy, took a chopper to explore a glacier, and entered croc-infested waters.
We swam with dazzling fish, followed turtles, watched chubby penguins, bathed baby elephants, fed kangaroos, played with dolphins, cuddled a koala and spotted a tiny, little (deadly) spider. We never did see a dingo.
We inhaled thundering waterfalls, traversed unexpected rivers, and sailed round one of the most beautiful places on earth.
We drank spectacular coffee, visited colourful markets, had pretentious picnics, rustic barbecues, and learnt to cook Vietnamese-style.
We battled epic storms, gusting winds and icy cold, while Harry and Barry kept us dry, and eight jumpers, two blankets and a glass of fine wine kept us warm.
We drank wine in the sunshine, got sweaty knees on hot hikes, and wore so much sun cream we came home with paler skin than we started with. But with big smiles and a mountain of happy memories.
When shall we do it again?