Describing my new life in Tasmania, after I had left Britain in the mid-1990s, I told friends I was “dancing on the edge of the world’’. I had borrowed the phrase from the Beat Poets who migrated to San Francisco from the East Coast of America in the 1950s, and it described perfectly a world so different from the one I had left behind – the hectic Fleet Street where I worked on the Independent newspaper. The less frenetic life in Tasmania gave me time to write a weekly column on bird-watching for my new employer, the Mercury in Hobart.
The more you know, the less you need
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