We moved from the UK to Tasmania, Australia's only island state, on the last day of the old millennium. I became a magazine journalist, commercial photographer, and freelance writer promoting tourism for State agencies. I had some major successes; front page for The Australian of a State Funeral, over 100 major features for many glossy magazines including Australian Geographic with occasional front covers, definitive tourism guides, a coffee table book of tropical island resorts, lots of aerial photography, iconic pictures of Tasmania, and so on. This was a wonderful time of great variety and challenge where I was assured a front seat (literally and metaphorically) and privileged access that otherwise would have been impossible; and of course I enjoyed an intimate engagement with Tasmania, with its extraordinary wilderness and magnificent forests. But, I grew tired of the near unremitting cheerfulness of the required tone in the magazine work and so, fed up with prescribed photography, sold all my cameras and lenses and started a novel. I had heard an interview with an Australian scientist in which he addressed questions about Einstein's 'Relativity' that had troubled me ever since my degree in Logic with Physics, so this was a natural area of interest to explore. We returned to the UK, partly to be near my elderly mother, but also to show the kids 'Old Europe' and, amongst several other tours, I went on a 'roots' trip with my eldest daughter Kita, to discover the truth about my father. But that is another story.