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Writer's pictureQuimby Masters

Peter's Subsequent Travels

Updated: Apr 24, 2022

Peter's first trip abroad began a life-long love of travel and adventure. Any travel journal he kept of his subsequent trips has been lost to time; I've recreated his travels the best I can through postcards and memories of stories he shared; but I welcome any and all help in recreating this period of his life. If you traveled with him, or if he shared his stories with you, please contact me.



Peter in Nepal. This is my favorite picture of him.


Peter returned home to Kerang; but he was anxious to leave again. This time, he wanted to explore Asia. China was just opening the doors to travelers. He and his sister Deb were some of the first to explore the country.


Peter and Deb spent a lot of time traveling through China. They explored large portions of the country together. Peter had especially fond memories of the dramatic landscape of rocky crags. While I'm not sure especially what part he was referencing, I believe it was Zhangjiajie. He told me that the Chinese believed it was the most beautiful place in the world, and when I saw pictures, I had to agree.


Deb remembers:


Peter often said, 'We're not tourists, we're travelers,' and in his mind there was a big difference. Travelers wanted to really see the country, see the people, learn from them, and he spent a lot of his life traveling and trying to see as much of the world as possible.

In April 1989 Peter and I went on a big trip. It was to be for 1-2 years. We set off through Indonesia, through China, with plans to go to Beijing and then take the trans-Siberian railway to Helsinki. It was just me and Peter traveling and trying to see everything, and strangely we never fought.

Traveling through China was adventurous even for Peter's standards. It had only just opened up, nobody spoke English, the Chinese were not used to foreigners and used to call us 'foreign devils' and touched our hair and arms. I remember the first time we changed money on the black market. I was nervous going down this laneway with a shady looking man who was changing, 'Change the money.' Peter was beside me though, so I knew it was going to be alright.

Peter and I did a lot of things on this trip which others might have thought as questionable or dangerous, but that was the point of traveling: to see the people and find the truth with your own eyes.

In truth Peter was fearless. He didn't take risks; he was considerate and measured in all he did; but he went where lesser mortals feared to go. Sometimes I think this is because he grew up thinking he didn't have much time: As a child he was told he wouldn't live to see 30, so he must have felt that he needed to cram as much as possible into the years he had.


They traveled through China by train and by bus, finally making their way to Beijing in the opening days of June. By then there was a student protest at Tiananmen Square, but because Peter and Deb had been traveling for so long, they didn't know it was going on. They rolled into a city that was on edge, with tanks starting to gather around the student protestors.

They were in Beijing when the inevitable crackdown occurred.

Years later, I told Peter my memories of watching it all unfold on TV - how, as an excited 12 year old, I thought it was the start of something big; how it seemed impossible that the government would slaughter its own people. Peter smiled, that beautiful, sad, knowing smile that always made me feel like the sun was shining just for me, and said that, on the ground, it was very different: They knew that it would end in tragedy. By "they" he didn't only mean himself, and Deb, and the other Westerners there, but the students themselves. The students, who gathered in tents and stood their ground against an authoritarian government, were under no illusions that it would end peacefully, that the government would acquiesce to their demands. They gathered anyway, determined to have their say, knowing that their cause was lost.

The night before the tanks rolled in, Peter visited the students. He didn't talk much about that; just that he was there, that there was a sense in the air that something significant was going to happen. By the time the tanks rolled in, and martial law was declared, he and Deb were on the other side of Beijing, trapped and unable to make it to the airport.

This is my memory of what Peter told me about what happened next. I hope that his family and friends will chime in with their own memories, so that we will have a more complete version of those events:

Peter called the Embassy seeking help. He was told, "We wouldn't even let you in out of the rain." They called their mother, who was working the phones, furiously trying to arrange for a rescue flight. Nobody in government wanted to help; as far as they were concerned, backpackers were on their own.

Not knowing what else to do, they decided to go to the airport. But there was a problem: Beijing was under martial law. It was illegal for pretty much anyone to be out on the street. Finally, they found the owner of a van who was willing to take them. There was a group of them in the hostel all trying to make it to the airport. There wasn't enough room for everyone, so they split up. Peter sent Deb ahead while he stayed behind with some others.

As I recall he told me they passed the time playing hacky-sack.

When they got to the airport, nobody wanted to pay the van driver to go back for the rest of the group. Deb had very little money on her. Peter told me she had to beg people for money to pay the van driver, so that he'd go back for Peter and the others. Eventually she gathered enough money and the van driver went back to pick up the others.

Peter was never one to exaggerate; but he told me the drive through Beijing was scary, although he said he mostly tried to stay down and out of sight. But they could hear shots being fired. They knew that some very bad things were happening.

Peter's mother had arranged a flight. She told me that she called the Foreign Minister, and when she mentioned Peter needed help, he instantly wanted to help, because his son knew Peter from his time at Melbourne High and they were good friends. When I asked Peter about this he laughed. The son of the Foreign Minster had indeed gone to Melbourne High with Peter, but Peter doubted very much he even knew who he was. Still, something worked; a plane was arranged to evacuate the Australians out of Beijing.

Deb told me each person on the flight from Beijing to Hong Kong had to pay $250 for the privilege of being evacuated out of a veritable war zone. Peter told me that their travel insurance refused to cover it. Their travel insurance covered insurrection, but not civil war, and so the travel insurance company merely classified the massacre as civil war instead of insurrection, so that it would not have to pay for the evacuation flight.

A quick inflation calculator shows that in 2020 dollars, the rescue flight cost $542.

From Hong Kong Deb and Peter made their way to London, where they were met by a distant cousin, who took them in for a few days to recuperate. Ruth remembers them as flying to his home in Spain, but Deb says they went straight to London to work.

It's evident they did travel around a little bit, though. In a postcard postmarked 7/8/1989, Deb wrote:



Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

Greetings from Paris. Peter and I saw an opera in Rome. See how cultured we are becoming. Unfortunately it was in Italian but fortunately we had an English translation book with all the words in English. It was Verdi's Aida and it was really good. At one stage horses and chariots came on stage. The costumes were really colorful and mostly gold and green. It is set in Egypt so there were a lot of soldiers, high priests, dancing girls, etc. There was a fair bit of dancing and the opera singers had really good voices. I think Mum would really have loved it. It cost us $20 each. There were (illegible - the ink has faded considerably) which really added to the atmosphere.

We have been in Paris and have seen quite a bit. (Illegible.) Notre Dam which was good. Saw a choir one night. We went to a 19th century museum and had a guided tour. So we now know a bit more about Monet, Renoir, van Gough, etc. Guided tours are sometimes free when supplied by the museum etc. and are well worth taking. The art museum tour was not free but we did not know until 1/2 way through and they didn't ask for tickets so we didn't pay. We went to Versailles yesterday to see Louis XIII to VIX palace and Marie Antoinette. It was really good. The gardens were amazing full of flowers, stables, and fountains. Bye. Love, Debbie.


I really wish Peter had sent a postcard at the same time. By the time I knew him, he had very little interest in operas (or any theatre, for that matter) or art museums. On our family trips, I could usually drag him along to cultural or historical museums, but he was never interested in art museums.

Peter was also not very fond of Paris. He thought it was overpriced and pretentious - oddly enough, the same way I feel about London! He visited a few times, and sometimes stayed with friends who lived there. I know one of his French friends was Delphine - I'm not sure if he stayed with her in Paris, but he was quite fond of him, and suggested Delphine as a name for our second child, if we'd had a daughter. Peter's favourite story about Paris was when he was walking with his French friends behind an elderly American couple. The woman grasped her husband's arm and said, "You can smell the romance!" His French friend sniffed the air and replied quietly to Peter, "I'm pretty sure that's dog shit."

I believe it was on this trip that Peter also visited Ireland. I found the following postcard from him to his father:



Dear Dad,

I saw this postcard while hitching on a particularly slow day in Western Ireland. At the moment we're in Belfast. It's pretty quiet, apart from the soldiers in armoured cars patrolling up and down. We leave for Dublin tomorrow. Today we called you. Somehow we'd got the time differences wrong. The last week or so of trying to call you to find out about Jem's baby is now over, Deb can stop worrying about "Avril." Love, Peter.

The "Avril" reference is about Jem's daughter Kirsty, who was very nearly named Avril. Clearly, her siblings did not approve!

Peter told me that in Northern Ireland, they somehow ended up spending the night in the home of an IRA operative. As I recall Peter woke up the next morning as a brick was thrown through the window. The guy they were staying with explained it away and said, "Oh, I probably should've told you, I'm with the IRA." Peter thought, Yeah, you probably should've told me. They didn't stay a second night.

Peter spent a lot of time hitch-hiking around Europe (and North America, and some Pacific islands . . .) He was all about travelling cheap. He was fearless; but he wasn't a risk taker. He was always sensible and pragmatic. He also saw the good in everyone. Sometimes people would disappoint him; but he would move on, his faith in humanity still intact.

I know Peter was working in a pub in November of 1989, when the Berlin Wall came down. Several of his friends decided to travel to Berlin to experience history in the making. Peter, still wary from his experience in Beijing, decided to stay in London instead - he was afraid East Germany or the Soviet Union would crack down on the students. He missed out on that particular piece of history. I think he regretted it; but I think he was also surprised that the Berlin Wall came down so peacefully, after what had happened in Tiananmen Square just a few months earlier.

At some point though Peter did go to Berlin. He talked about catching a ride at the border with East Germany. That is where all the backpackers would wait; and Germans who had permission to travel to Berlin would pick them up, and make the long drive across East Germany. Apparently the highway was heavily guarded, and cars weren't allowed to stop. This was, obviously, before the fall of the Berlin Wall and before the reunification of Germany.

I know Peter spent his 23rd birthday in Jerusalem. I believe Deb and Peter went to Israel in December of that year, because Peter talked about trying to spend Christmas in Bethlehem. They weren't allowed in. He told me that the Israeli government, at least back then, always came up with an excuse to keep tourists out of Bethlehem at Christmas time, to keep the Palestinians from profiting from the tourist market at what would have been the most lucrative time of the year.

About that trip, Deb wrote,

In Israel Peter and I snuck into a Palestinian camp. We did interviews and filmed footage of people who had family members killed by exploding rounds. The Palestinians offered to have their children throw rocks at the Israeli soldiers and get shot so we could film them and send it to Amnesty. This was a line we couldn't cross, but was typical of the type of person he was.

Peter was tear gassed in the Occupied Territories; it might have been in Bethlehem, although I'm not sure. He also had all of his footage seized by the Israeli government.

But, he had a very good time in Jerusalem. I believe he stayed in Jerusalem for a month. There was a fair bit of partying. One time he got so drunk, he went to use the toilet and woke up several hours later, leaning against the wall with his pants around his ankles! He spoke fondly of the people who were in the hostel while he was there; they had many fun adventures together, and made it hard for him to leave.

When he was in London, he worked in at least one pub, the Clarence. He sent a postcard to his mother in 1990 (the rest of the postmark is illegible) with London pubs on the front. On the back, they are listed as The Clarence, The Sherlock Holmes, and the Churchill Arms. He's underlined The Clarence and made a notation, "Different one!"



Dear Mum,

How are you recovering after the operation? I telephone on Mother's day but you were still in hospital. I'm in London again, I just got back from seeing some friends in Copenhagen, Denmark. I'm here for 9 more days, then I fly off to Bangkok on May 25th. I'll spend a few months travelling through Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia. Then I fly from Bali to Melbourne in September. Deb is still in Frankfurt. I'll see her for a few days then she's off to Sri Lanka (Ceylon) then back home. Bye for now. Love, Peter.


I believe these "friends" he mentions were the nudist family. He met a woman around his age who was also traveling, who invited him back to Copenhagen. There was no romantic interest on the part of either of them. But the following morning, when he went to the kitchen for breakfast, his friend, her mother, and her younger sister were all naked. His friend's father was wearing underwear, out of respect for their visitor. They explained to Peter that they were naturalists. According to Peter they were all very beautiful. He spent breakfast silently reminding himself, Look in their eyes . . . Look in their eyes . . .


By May 1990 Peter was in Koh Samui in Thailand:



Dear Mum, Dad, Chris and Deb,

Here I am in southern Thailand, writing from my desk in my aircon room, having just finished my complementary breakfast. It's very warm, 35 C, here but I'm not doing too much so it's okay.

I see on TV that there are problems in Bangkok, I'd know less about that than you! I "slept" at the airport then came down here the next morning, so no worries! I'll be in Bkk for one day on the 31st of June - it should've sorted itself out by then. Stay out of the mud. Love, P.


Peter always liked South-east Asia. I think he liked that it was such good value for money; Europe is expensive, but Asia is cheap. He didn't care much for the weather, though. He used to say, "There's a reason the tropics are so green" - because they're so hot and humid.

Peter especially enjoyed Thailand. He found it a very easy country for travelers. The food is good, cheap, and plentiful, and usually safe to eat. The standard of accommodation is quite high, comparatively. The people are very friendly. He didn't care much for Bangkok - he felt it was too large - but he loved the outlying areas, especially the beaches and islands.

He always spoke particularly fondly about Koh Pha Ngan island. He discovered it on his first trip to Thailand and stayed there for a month. At that time he met some people who had been there years before, and they told him it wasn't nearly as good as it used to be. He couldn't believe that anything could be better. Years later, he visited and found himself telling other travelers the same thing - that it used to be so much better!



12/6/1990

Dear Mum, Dad, Chris and Deb,

I'm in Thailand, on an island called Koh Pha Ngan in southern Thailand. I spent 3 days in Bangkok, then went to an island nearby and finally here. I'll probably stay for a few more weeks, it's too hot to move, except for the occasional meal!


A few weeks later he was still there:



21/6/1990

Dear Chris,

Still in Thailand, in fact I'll still on Koh Pha Ngan. The way of life here is quite seductive. Breakfast at 8 AM, then read, lunch at 1 PM, then talk. Volleyball at 5 PM then shows and dinner at 8 PM. It's a pretty full day really. The people are incredibly friendly, food is great, weather is 34 C every day. Take care, don't be too jealous! - Peter


The one story Peter always told about his time in Koh Pha Ngan involved a Westerner who, every night, ordered the crab. The restaurants, however, were dependent on what the fishermen caught, or what was brought over from the mainland, and apparently it wasn't crab season. Every night this particular backpacker would ask for crab, and every night the waiter would answer, "Crab, no hab." After a while other people started asking for crab too, just to frustrate the waiter.

By July Peter had moved on to Malaysia. While the next postcard he sent, on 3 July, had a scene from Koh Samui, it's postmarked from Pulau Pinang in Malaysia:




Dear Mum, Dad, Chris and Deb,

Yet another postcard from Samui Island in Thailand, definitely the last, I leave for Singapore tomorrow. I left Koh Pha Ngan yesterday, after a month there everyone on that section of the island knew my name so it was leave now or never. This postcard pretty much shows my stays in the area, I was at Boput Bay, then Pha Ngan - similar to Chaweng Beach, and now Lamai Beach. Take care all. Love, Peter.


Peter returned to Australia shortly thereafter. It was at Flinder's Street Station where he met his first love, Zarah. Zarah was a backpacker from Finland. She was looking for someone who could give her a haircut, and Peter said he would. He pulled out a pair of scissors and cut her hair, right in the middle of Flinder's Street Station. He asked where she was going, and when she said that she didn't really have any plans, he invited her to Kerang with him.

Zarah would play a major role in Peter's life for the next few years. When I first met Peter, they were broken up; but Peter still had her picture hanging on the wall of his dorm at the University of Oregon. He always spoke of her fondly. For the longest time, I was jealous of her! But gradually I came to understand that he was with me because he wanted to be with me - if he'd wanted to be with Zarah, he would have been with Zarah.

Still, there is a part of me that is jealous of her, because they had adventures together that the two of us will never have. But I am also grateful for her. I know that she was instrumental in making Peter the kind, generous person I fell in love with.

Zarah features prominently in his travels for the next few years, and I hope she will share some of those stories with us. I know they were some of Peter's favourite memories.

When Peter came back from Asia, he had some sort of parasitical worm in his leg. It was large enough that he could watch it as it crawled back and forth under the skin. He put off going to the doctor, though, so that he could spend time with Zarah. When he finally did go to the doctor, the doctor - who had studied tropical medicine - was more interested in taking pictures of it than in getting rid of it. A quick course of antiparasitical drugs cleared it up.

After a few months on the farm, Peter and Zarah headed west, and then north, to look for farmwork.

The first postcard was purchased in Sydney:



Dear Mum, Dad, Chris and Deb,

Couldn't get a direct bus to Brisbane, they were booked out for days. Instead I went to Sydney trying to get a bus from there. Booked out for 5 days solid! Luckily I got a cancellation after 2 hours of waiting. Arriving in Brisbane 2 days after leaving Deb's flat. Jsut now an Italian guy came along asking for someone to share his comby van to Cairns. Just splitting petrol costs so I'll be heading up there on Monday with Zarah to look for work. I probably won't get a chance to stop in on Nanny & Steve though. Good luck with HSC, VCE, whatever. Love, Peter.

The next postcard is postmarked from far north Queensland:



Dear Dad and Mum,

Happy birthdays! Sorry for not writing on the 16th [October - Ruth's birthday] but working out here you're doing well to know what day it is let alone the date. At the moment I'm picking melons - water, rock and honeydews. Much easier than capsicums and tomatoes; still hard work but not so hard or monotonous. Zarah and I will be here for another week or so then up to Tully, new Cairns. Still earning money but not as much as I'd like. Say hi to all and extras. Love, Peter.

Hi Ruth and Syd and of course brother Chris, We are doing just fine except we're missing lamington in our diet. Capscicums are my friends. See you! Love, Zarah

A postcard from Cairns:


Dear Mum, Dad, Chris and Deb,

We left Bowen a few days ago - it's good to be sleeping in a room where you can stand up, and switch on a light after dark. We even have a ceiling fan. At the moment we're in (near) the Atherton tablelands at Kurunda, about an hour west of Cairns. We're waiting to take the scenic train back down. Tomorrow we're going off camping on the coast in the Daintree Rainforest, then it's probably down to Bundaberg for a few week's work. Peter.

I'm gladly on holidays finally even work wasn't that bad and time just flew past. While Peter starts working again I'll go slowly along the coast to the south and west. I'll see you sometime at the end of this month. Hopefully there's some mail waiting for me. Please make sure there's at least a fruit cake in the freezer so I've something to look forward to beside all of you. Love, Zarah.

Peter told me about picking melons - how every now and then he'd "drop" one when he was thirsty. He liked watermelons; but not as much as me. I think he'd sort of gotten his fill while he was picking them, and it took a while for him to get the taste back for them.

He didn't tell me very much about this trip with Zarah. For the longest time though, he didn't want to go to Sydney with me, or to Cairns. I think he liked the idea of keeping them seperate, with his memories of Zarah.

By March 1991, Zarah was back in Finland, and Peter was off for his second attempt on the Trans Siberian.



Dear Dad, Mum and Chris,

Having got through my stopover in Kuala Lumpur, I'm in Hong Kong again! Not much has changed here, it's still hot and humid and expensive. I've bought (another) Trans-Siberian ticket, its' for June 7th, so I should be in Finland around June 17th or 18th. The problem may be getting out of Moscow or Leningrad (transport) but then again so long as no tanks come rolling in it would be a nice place to spend some time. I've a place in Moscow lined up to stay for about $10 (normally $100) so money won't be a worry. The ticket cost $300 Beijing to Moscow, I'll go to Canton, China tomorrow then spend 2 weeks getting to Beijing. Visas are all arranged. you have Zarah's address so get pen to paper - no John and Ivy tricks! Love, Peter.


In this postcard Peter alluded to a previous trip to Hong Kong. I believe that must have been when he was traveling through China with Deb.

I think it was on this trip that he took a third-class train ride for three days through China. He had intended to go second-class, but when he went to the ticket office to purchase his ticket, he was given the choice between first-class and third-class. This was a trick that was used to try to force foreigners to buy a more expensive ticket. Third-class was very primitive - bench seats along the sides of the train, with people crowded closely together. Peter refused on principle to buy a first-class ticket, so he bought a third-class ticket instead.

He said that when he and the person he was traveling with entered the cabin, everyone else gave them the stink-eye. They didn't want these two foreigners taking up their precious and very limited space. He settled in anyway. The bottom of the car was fill of rubbish, including quite a few bottles. The windows were open. He made a game - every time they passed a telephone or electricity pole, he'd throw a bottle through the open window to try to hit the pole. The Chinese people on the train became very interested in this game and sometimes joined in too.

As the days passed, the train became less full, as people got off at the stops along the way. After about two days, the conductor relented and said that Peter and his traveling companion could move to second-class. His companion took him up on the offer; but Peter was determined to complete the trip in third-class. By then, the other people on the train were quite used to him and welcoming of him.

Peter mentioned his distaste at the habit of carrying around a clear plastic bag, and spitting or blowing your nose into the bag. Almost everyone he met carried around a bag of their bodily fluid, which he found rather disgusting.

I'm not sure if it was on this trip to China or on his first visit with Deb where he inadvertently became a rickshaw driver. He'd hired the rickshaw to take him somewhere; but the driver was struggling with the hills. So Peter instructed him to pull over. The driver crawled into the basket in the back, and Peter bicycled to his destination, giving the driver a ride in his own rickshaw.

I was always in awe of Peter for having taken the trans-Siberian. He always told me it was boring. He said he passed the time reading; then when the train ran into a station he'd make a mad dash to find food. He traveled third-class, so basically it was a train compartment full of bunks - like a hostel on wheels.

I believe it was on the trans-Siberian where he had a funny encounter with two German speaking backpackers. If memory serves they were both from West Germany. Peter introduced them to each other and they were very happy to have someone from 'home' to speak with. They were carrying out the conversation in English until Peter said, "Hang on, don't you both speak German?" The realisation that they could speak their mother tongue was a welcome one and they laughed and immediately started speaking in German to each other.

After about a week Peter landed in Moscow. Later he would realise the monumental history of this moment - in a little over six months, the Soviet Union would cease to exist. He experienced Moscow in the dying days of Communism.

The Soviet government was rather paranoid, and so all of the official maps of Moscow were purposefully wrong. That was the first hurdle - finding your way around a city without a map! The second hurdle was that very few tourists were allowed in Moscow, and they were expected to shop at certain stores and eat in certain restaurants, which were several times more expensive than the places the locals frequented. Peter quickly discovered that some things - caviar, vodka - were very cheap, while others were exorbitantly expensive. I always teased Peter that he didn't remember much of Moscow because the vodka was so cheap! But in reality, he didn't eat much while he was there because the food was so expensive.

There was a McDonald's in Moscow at that time - it had been open for about six months. He was allowed to eat there, and the food was reasonably priced. But it was still a novelty. The lines were so long - Russians were used to lining up for hours and hours! - and Peter wasn't willing to do that.

One night, Peter went to the opera - Sleeping Beauty. The tickets were cheap; I believe he said they were about $10. (Cultural events in the Soviet Union tended to be cheap out of respect for Communist principles.) Around intermission it started to rain heavily. He realised this was his chance - the rain would have driven away the long lines of people outside of McDonald's. So he slipped out of the opera and went to McDonald's, where he finally enjoyed a decent(ish) meal.

That was the Peter I knew!

From Moscow I know he made his way to Finland and was reunited with Zarah. It would appear they spent some time hitch-hiking around Finland:



19/7/91

Dear Chris, Dad and Mum,

The hitch-hiking is going well, Zarah and I are now at Lake Inari - northern Finland. Tomorrow we should cross over into Norway. Camping in a new tent Zarah and her father just bought, we camp half of the time in the woods just out of town (for free) half in camp grounds ($10 each.) Food and travel is usually 2x Australian price, sometimes more. But with free camping, free travel (sometimes) then it's alright. There are actually reindeers on the roads and fish in the lakes! Keep up with the news, Zarah's expecting a card for her birthday.

Bye for now,

Peter




Dear Mum and Dad,

We're in Lappland (Northern Finland) now, camping in the great outdoors. The place is great but the mosquitos are incredibly (the postcard is torn at this spot) - ones crawl into [our tent] and take bites out of you! Woke up with bleeding sores the other morning. We're up above the arctic circle, equal to the left arm of Finland - Nordcapp soon.

[from Zarah]

Hi there, your son is doing fine apart from the mosquito bites he's getting. Zarah's getting some bites too! We'd planned on camping for 4 weeks but now 2 or 3 weeks is more likely. Take care, dry off those cows.

It may have been on this trip that Peter bought the reindeer pelt in our bedroom. I've always loved it, although it sheds horribly!

When we first met Peter spoke quite a bit about the Midnight Sun. He understood the science behind it perfectly; but still felt awe that the sun would stay up all night long. He really enjoyed that experience. I think he really enjoyed camping in Finland. He always said it was a beautiful part of the world.

From Finland Peter moved on to London to live and work. I think he chose London because it was close to Zarah. I know at one point they were very serious about each other. Peter was, at one point, offered a job in Australia and he told them that he wasn't sure if he'd be around, because he was considering moving to Finland to be with his girlfriend. For my sake I'm very happy that didn't happen.

I believe this is when Peter worked at the Peacock, in London's theatre district. It was a large pub that had a gay bar on the very top floor. Peter sometimes worked in the gay bar, and since this was a popular pub in London's theatre district, he pulled a pint for pretty much every actor working on the London stages back then.

I think this was the pub that had the manager who he wasn't very fond of - she was quite mean; but she commanded respect. I believe this was also the pub that he was asked to manage. Because Peter's paternal grandparents were both born in the UK, he should have been able to claim citizenship through them; but for some reason this wasn't allowed, and so he couldn't accept the job. Again, for my sake, I'm very happy that didn't happen.



31 October 1999

Dear Chris,

Thanks for the postcard. You sound as if you're in good spirits - shouldn't you be studying or something!

I'm still working at the Peacock; the times going by quickly and I'm gradually getting the bank balance up again. I'm trying to start an import/export company, though I'm not quite sure what I'll deal in - maybe Drys-A-Bone coats or Bali clothes!

Zarah was here a week or so ago - she says she'll be your clothes machine if you ever start "Wild Things" again.

Let me know how exams go.

Love,

Peter

The import-export business never made it off the ground; in fact Peter never mentioned it to me. I didn't know it even existed as an idea until I read this postcard.



5 November 1991

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

I'm well, still working at the Peacock, and trying to save up for winter.

I have a week off over Christmas which I'll spend in Paris or Amsterdam. So I've decided to hang around in London until late January.

I need Nanny's birth certificate, Dad's birth certificate, and mine too, as I'll get a working stamp in my passport by January. Could you also send me Torsten Clas's address (letter) and Vibeke (Denmark) too, I don't have either.

Love,

Peter



4 December 1991

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

How is life in the sun? It gets dark here at 4 PM now, even before that it's a dull grey! At least it's not too cold yet.

Everything is going well for me here, Christmas is on the way. This Saturday we're putting up decorations after work - Hazel is supplying us with pizzas and drinks. Next week Nicole may be coming over for a visit from Switzerland. The next week Zarah is coming over for 2 1/2 weeks. We'll go up to Scotland for Christmas - I have time off work.

Can you send over birth certificates ASAP as I have to arrange a work visa before I leave for Finland in February.

Bye for now,

Love,

Peter

Peter mentioned Nicole to me a few times. As I recall her father was a pilot for Lufthansa, so she was able to fly all over the world. He was very fond of her as a person although it was only ever a friendship. (Nicole, if you ever happen to find this website, please share your memories of Peter!)

The next postcard is postmarked Christmas day, from Edinburgh:



Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

Just a card to wish you a Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year. great news concerning Bob's downfall - long live Paul Bearer. At last it won't be long until Australia has a change of government.

Zarah and I are up in Scotland at the moment. we got a week off work so we came up here for 5 days. Today is Christmas day. It is cold, though not snowing. We searched everywhere for a traditional Christmas feast but everything was closed. We ended up having peanuts and coke for lunch, and takeaway pizza for dinner. At least we have a TV in our room at the bed & breakfast. I'm watching Crocodile Dundee 2, while Zarah knits me a pair of ski socks.

Back to work next Sunday!

Save me some pavlova, Zarah too.

Love,

Peter

The Bob referenced above is Bob Hawke. Peter was never a fan; he always thought he was a bit smarmy. Peter's politics were to the left of his parents', but he never really trusted politicians who relied on charm or likeability.

27 December 1991



Dear Deb,

Thanks for the Christmas card, and for the Aerogramme containing information about one of your patients (or parents) having a heart attack. It took me a day to get through to Mum, just to find Dad watching one day cricket. There I was planning on taking a plane home to help on the farm etc.

Anyway, Zarah and I made it up to Scotland for Christmas. We'd planned on a traditional feast, but instead had to make do with pizza and peanuts. Everything was closed for Christmas, everything except the occasional pub and Chinese restaurant. We were to have Chinese but after a 30 odd minute wait we decided on pizza and Crocodile Dundee 2 on TV.

[from Zarah] Hi Deb, Thanks for the Christmas card waiting for me at Pete's. I really like it up here in Scotland just that it's chilly-billy. Here is my address to school. So I'll be waiting for some more messages from you.

Zarah and Peter.



10 January 1992

Dear Chris, Mum and Dad,

Thanks for the letters and cards over Christmas. I'm back at work now, Zarah is back in Finland, and life is back to a routine.

I'm moving out of my room into the pub, it'll save me $120 a week, and I guess I'll be able to handle it for 5 weeks more.

In mid Feb I'm going up to Finland for a few weeks to learn to ski then I'll be back in London for a month to watch the World Series cricket. then I'll spend a month inter-railing around. The address you can get me at until August is

3rd floor

2 Bridge St

London SW 1

UK

I'll have to work again in may and June. Do you have Uncle Ray's address? He still hasn't got in touch or sent me the birth certificate. Anyway, good luck with Keating.

Love,

Peter


I'm pretty sure this same postcard was still on sale in London when we went there in 2003!



20 February 1992

Dear Chris, Mum and Dad,

Just a postcard to let you know I'm out of London (at last!) and I made it to snowy Finland.

I tried skiing last night, it was better than I'd thought although I'm a little sore today. I'm having as many saunas as I can while I'm here so I can get used to Kerang weather again. See you all in a few weeks.

Love,

Peter


His time with Zarah was short-lived; soon he was back in London. There is a sizeable gap until his next poscard:



14 May 1992

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

I'm sitll in London at the Peacock. Everything is going well so I've decided to extend my stay here until very early October. The time is flying by, and with the current exchange rate I'm saving a few Australian dollars. I may even get home almost level!

How is the calving etc. going? Any sign of Liz being in calf? My work mates from Melbourne and Albury send their love.

See you Christmas,

Peter.


I think it's sweet that Peter asked after a specific cow in this postcard. It's also very much in keeping with who Peter was as a person. He cared about all living things. He was gentle and kind.

He told me once that cows have long memories - that, if you hand-feed a cow, that cow will remember you, and if that cow subsequently has trouble, say, with calving, she will trust you enough to let you near her, and trust that you are there to help her. But even without that personal connection, animals seemed to sense that Peter was safe. That he wouldn't hurt them. Some people just have that gift. Peter did. People and animals trusted him, and he never betrayed that trust.


My understanding is that while Peter was working in London, he lived in Earl's Court, in what was practically a bedsit. He worked long hours at the pub, and didn't really care much what his living situation was like. His goal was to save money to travel. By June he was back in Finland with Zarah:



8 June 1992

Dear Mum, Dad, Chris, Deb and Jem,

Hi from Finland! Zarah and I leave for her 1 month trip around Eastern Europe today, so I thought I'd send you a card. I got to Amsterdam a week ago to find my friend from Amsterdam in Spain! So rather than spend a week in Holland alone I came up here on a Eurail instead. The weather is 25 degrees each day, great after Thailand's 36. Is it still raining there? Zarah says Hi.

Take care,

Love,

Peter


I have no record of Peter going to Thailand in between working in London and this postcard from Finland. Perhaps someone in his family can shed light on this; or perhaps Peter was referring to his earlier stop in Thailand.

I do remember that Peter told me he and Zarah used to hitch-hike around Europe together. He said their standard approach was for Zarah to stick out her thumb, and then when a car stopped, Peter would come out of his hiding place - that it was much easier for women to get rides from men, but it was hard for the driver to say no once they'd stopped!



**

Dear Chris,

Budapest is nice, although it seems very different to when we were here 5 1/2 years ago. We're camping, and it's warm (32 degrees.) A few people speak English, but mostly it's hand signals that gets us by. We will go to the Castle District today to see the parts that you and I went to. Things aren't so cheap now either, though not too bad. I hope everyone is well, and the houes is going okay. Love,

Peter


** I am really not sure if this postcard belongs here. The postmark is slightly faded but reads 92 11 3. But it seems unlikely that Budapest would be so warm in March. It would make more sense if this was from the trip he took in June and July with Zarah; and since I know they were traveling in this part of Europe at that time I've put it here. If anyone can clarify this for me I'd really appreciate it.



25 June 1992

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

Zarah and I got to Prague yesterday, just in time for the rain! Hopefully tomorrow is better weather. Prague itself is a beautiful city, although a bit Western in prices. Tomorrow we're off down a siliver mine nearby then to a church made of human bones. It's a funny world.

Love,

Peter and Z.


This would have been a very interesting time to travel through Central and Eastern Europe, as Communism had not long fallen. These cities and countries were transforming quickly as people embraced freedoms that had long been unavailable. Peter would have seen these differences particularly in countries like Hungary, which he'd visited when it was still under Communist rule.



16 July 1992

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

Got back to Finland with Zarah a few days ago. We'd spent 3 days in Switzerland, visited Nicole in Zurich, and stopped in at Lucerne. It's a beautiful country, although really expensive! I ended up using an extra day in my Railpass just for a 2 hour train ride. Don't worry, Mum, I got $600 worth of travel out of my $310 pass, nothing less than $45 a day! I'm off to Paris in a few days, then Barcelona. I hear it's really expensive so I may only stay for 2 or 3 days.

P.


Peter doesn't say this, but he probably used that 2 hour train ride to cross the border to find cheaper accommodation. Peter, who wasn't opposed to actually sleeping on trains to save a buck, would have worked out that it was better value to use the train pass and get cheaper accommodation elsewhere (probably Italy) than to rent a room in Switzerland.



27 July 1992

Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

Thanks for the letters via Amsterdam. I stopped by a few days ago on my way from Finland to Paris. I've ben staying here in Paris with friends for 3 days. I even saw EuroDisney on Saturday. I leave for Barcelona tonight. Hopefully it's not as expensive as I've heard!

Peter


Peter wasn't fond of Paris. He always thought it was dirty and overpriced, and had too many tourists. He had some good friends there though. It was probably during this trip when he and his friends were walking down the sidewalk and heard an older American woman exclaim, "Oh, can't you just smell the romance?" His friend sniffed the air and whispered his reply, "I'm pretty sure that's dog shit."

I have known a few Parisians in my time. The one thing they all seem to have in common is this love/hate relationship with their city. They are quick to demean it; but if you do the same, they are quick to defend it!

Peter traveled to Barcelona to see the Olympics. I believe he went to the handball there - it was probably the cheapest ticket. As I recall he camped in Barcelona because he couldn't find a cheap enough hostel. He had fond things to say about the city, though. He thought it was a beautiful place.

There is a rather significant gap now until the next postcard. Peter was probably just working. As I said the pub he worked at, the Peacock, was in the theatre district. He primarily worked downstairs, which was frequented by stagehands, lighting technicians, and other people who worked behind the scenes. One night one of the patrons was rather intoxicated and asked Peter if he wanted to work the spotlight for Madame Butterfly. Peter apparently did a passable job because his friend wasn't caught out offloading his job on to the publican. I think Peter saw a few shows from backstage. When we were together, he never had much of an interest in going to live theatre. I managed to drag him to a showing of Rent, before we were married; he went to see his brother in a local Ballarat production of Cabaret; and with the kids, I dragged him to Harry Potter and the Lost Child. But for the most part if I suggested theatre, he'd shake his head no.

Later that year, Peter left London to make his way back. This was when he trekked in Nepal. He must have also visited India on this trip. Peter hated India. It was hard for him to see the poverty. He also hated the casual sexual harassment. He recalled people leaning across the aisle of a train to ask, "How much for me to f*** that girl?" That girl happened to be his sister. He was disgusted by the way women were treated there.

On the other hand, he quite liked his time in Nepal. He loved the prices; he loved the people; he loved the scenery. I have some pictures from his trekking days there and I love to look at them. His face shows pure joy. That's how I like to remember him the best:



Dear Mum, Dad and Chris,

I'm now in Kathmandu, after a terrible 40 hour bus ride on bench seats in a crowded "super deluxe" bus with no suspension. We stopped for 3 meal breaks and I got 4 hours sleep so it wasn't that bad.

Kathmandu is great; the people are friendly, the city (300,000) interesting and mostly cheap. Roomos are $2-$3, food $1, jumpers (handknitted) $10. I'll probably be here for a week, then go on a trek for a week, then head back to India around the 20th of November. Cricket season is on there soon I hear, so I may get to see a game.

Love,

Peter

In the postcard he mentions trekking for a week; but I think it was actually three weeks. He did the Anapurna Trail. He told so many stories from this! He was prepared with a water filter; but some others on the trek relied on tablets that didn't filter all the water as well as they should have, and got violently ill. He would talk about seeing little bits of pink confetti in the water as they filled up their bottles, and not knowing what it was until they got to the next village up, where they realised it was toilet paper - people would squat over the river and do their business, wipe their bums, and dump the paper in the water too. The villages were spaced a day's walk apart, so that there was no rush - people would take their time and hike for 6 or 8 hours a day, from one village to the next, carrying their own pack. All except one American, who hired a sherpa. He would race ahead and get to the village hours before anyone else. One day, while he was bragging about this, he said, "I would've got here quicker but my sherpa couldn't get keep up!" Peter always thought he was an idiot, right up there with the guy he'd met in Egypt who made a point of telling everyone he was going to Egypt but refused to see the pyramids.

Peter loved the children he met along the way. In one of my favourite pictures he's posing with children in front of a Nepalese home.


Years later, when we went to Nepal together, and children gathered around him, he never ignored them or tried to brush them off. Instead he'd speak with them, tease them, make jokes with them. I remember he touched one on the head to scruff up his hair, and ended up getting a pretty bad skin rash from it! He would also hand out pieces of gum, pens, whatever he had on-hand. The kids would gobble it all up like it was a treasure, and Peter loved to make them smile.

I'm not sure if he returned to India after the trek or not. But I know Peter did not get home in time for Christmas. Christmas Day of 1992 he sent this postcard. While the picture on the front is from India, it has a stamp from Thailand:



25 December 1992

PAI Somewhere in North

Dear you all,

Hope you had a good Christmas. Ours wasn't bad but not as cold as it would've been in Finland. We had heaps of nice gifts but even more bananas. Chris, I kind expeted to go to dances with you. But may be some other time! Zarah

We tried to find a restaurant with a roast dinner, but ended up having the usual rice dishes and banana fritters. At least we don't have to put up with the Christmas specials on TV, and the Boxing Day yacht racing to Hobart tomorrow. See you all in a week or so.

Love,

Peter


Peter never mentioned Zarah going on the trek with him; so I think she must have flown into Thailand later to meet up with him.

I'm amused by the comment about the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, as, later on in his life, Peter loved sailing and loved the idea of doing the Melbourne to Launceston yacht race that is ran at the same time! In fact he was trying to gain as many sailing qualifications as he could so that he could beg a space on the Melbourne to Launceston, or at least get a seat bringing a boat back from Launceston.

After this, he went back to uni. I don't have any records of him travelling in 1993 or 1994. If anyone has any information to the contrary, please do let me know, but I'm pretty sure he was spending that time at LaTrobe, working on his Economics degree. Some time in 1994, as I was finishing High School, going overseas for the first time, and dreaming of my future, he made a decision that would change both of our lives forever: He decided to study at the University of Oregon. It wasn't so much that he decided to study there, as it was a process of elimination: Someone else really wanted to go to the University of Washington and he didn't want to go to a University of California school. So, he ended up in Oregon, and suddenly I knew my future.

The very last postcard I have from Peter's collection is from then:



25 July 1995

Dear Mum and Dad,

There's not much happening over here at the moment. I'm working 6 days a week for Telecom, putting in the new phone lines, so I'm not doing much else. My boss is back from hoildays, so I'm no longer in charge at work. The 2 weeks went well, with no major problems, so Rich is letting me keep going with finding things for everyone to do, but now I on't have the hassles of not having anyone to ask when I have a problem. Next month I'm going off to Europe for 4 weeks, so I'll have to start planning for it pretty soon. The weeks ar really flying by this summer! I hope this are going well at home.

Love,

Peter

Of course, Peter didn't end up going to Europe that summer. Instead we took a trip to the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone. He postponed the trip to Europe until December, so that we could spend all of that beautiful, magical summer together.


Later on, we would have trips together - two round the world trips before we had children; and at least one trip overseas with the kids until the pandemic hit. I'll write about those too. But in the meantime, if anyone can add to what I know about his travels during this period of his life, please share it with me.

---------------

I've had to recreate the following time line using postcards and memories. If anyone has a more accurate timeline, please share it with me:


Late 1987 or early 1988 - Peter returns home from his first trip


1989 - Peter travels to China with his sister Deb. I know they were in Beijing in June 1989 because they were there during the Tiananmen Square Massacre. They were air-lifted out of China and made their way to London. Peter worked in a few pubs, traveling in his spare time.


1990 - I know Peter spent his 23rd birthday in Israel. He also spent some time in Thailand before going back to Australia. I believe this was when he met Zarah.


1991 - Peter traveled through Australia with Zarah before taking the trans-Siberian from Beijing to Moscow. He worked in London and traveled through Europe in his spare time.


1992 - Peter worked at the Peacock in London's theatre district, traveling through Europe with Zarah when he could.


By 1993 Peter was back in Australia, going to uni.



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