Women In Media SA, WIMSA - our story

The 2019 Women In Media Conference is over. One feels a little bit melancholy. There are some wonderful people on the state committees and one wishes one had had the chance to get to know some of them better. With the vitality and professionalism of our two national convenors, Cath Webber and Kathy McLeish. the states have been rallied so that we now are truly national. We are an officially independent national entity. There is also a sense communicated by some that South Australia is considered to be a minor place in the scheme of things. That has long been an eastern states perception.

Perhaps we need to shout louder.

Certainly we have been a successfully established WIM body for longer than many of the other states and we have not been slack in having events and covering the issues of the day - often ahead of the curve, as is our wont in South Australia.

Considering that we started out in substantial debt to MEAA for the expenses of bringing the Sydney presence to town for our launch, we have come far.

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Indeed, there is a certain pride in the way in which WIM has grown since those early days. Perhaps to the surprise of MEAA, we just forged forward and did our own thing.

It all began in 2014 when Angelique Ivanica, the union's branch secretary, was tasked with asking me, as a woman and as President of Journalists in SA, to step up and form a WIM committee.

COMMITTEE:

Arna Eyres-White, Louise Pascale, Amber Cordeaux, Collette Snowden, Jayne Stinson, Tory Shepherd and Dana Wortley MP….a top band of woman gathered. At first we tried to meet in cafes but they are too noisy. My home, known as the SaMahal and later as “the Tardis” because it is bigger than it looks, became the monthly meeting place. Wine, cheeses and wursts on the 400 year old oak table became our tradition, with rowdily collegiate and only loosely formal meetings. Over the years, our committee has changed shape. Louise took a sabbatical. Dana melted back into Parliament. Tory Shepherd had to leave when her celebrity demands overwhelmed her timetable. Jayne Stinson left to run, successfully, as a state politician. She is now shadow minister for the arts. Angelique retired when we left MEAA. Louise returned. PR goddess Karyn Foster joined the ranks. Former editor Megan Lloyd came aboard. Senior ‘Tiser journo Kara Jung followed, freelancer Kate Hannon also and most recently wine writer Katie Spain. Laila Ferrier is waiting in the wings and now Catherine Zengerer has moved over from Hobart where she was Convenor of WimTas. She is automatically a popular inclusion. We’re a big committee.

For the record, WIMSA EVENTS:

On February 18, 2015, we launched WIMSA with an address by Adelaide-born Walkley Awards superstar Adele Ferguson. This significant event drew an official Sydney WIM presence in the form of Tracey Spicer who was Sydney convenor. Seira Atkins of MEAA also came from Sydney to give the formal MEAA imprimateur. It was a huge and successful event.

We hit the ground running and attracted another big crowd to an armchair interview with Anne Summers in May of that year held in the Lyceum Club of SA. In July we celebrated our lineup of WIMSA Mentors with a networking event in a chic laneway bar. In December we held a ritzy event celebrating the Walkley Awards and new sponsorship by women winemakers. Channel 7 provided its board room and roof garden.

We opened 2016 with another Mentors networking event at the 2KW rooftop bar. Huge success. In May a Sliding Doors panel event with discussions on the transitions between journalism and PR packed a reborn east end pub to the rafters.

In 2017 we hit the #me2 and bullying issue for the first time when Tracey Spicer came over to speak on her book #goodgirlstrippedbare. It was a very popular event hosted at UniSA. We also had an Adelaide Fringe Festival event based on the show of a feminist comedian and her failures in media. She was a bit of a failure and it was our worst event. In June at a chic new apartment development foyer we held Fireworks, surviving trolls and paving your own way on the Internet. This was a panel event with journalists who have been stalked, hate mailed and trolled. It included an in-depth account of a columnist’s relationship with her troll. Lastly, the trendy East End Cellars wine bar hosted an extremely indulgent Christmas party. Much merry networking.

2018 became the year of the painful issue beginning with a state election. WIMSA hosted a complete lineup of all the political party leaders to speak on What’s In It For Women. Held in February at the Mercury Cinema, this gained major media coverage and also featured “democracy sausages”. When the Story Breaks - how trauma reverberates through the media. This was a panel session in the Hawke Centre of UniSA with journalists, psychologist and a woman completing a PhD on the subject. In October we held Kicking Goals, a panel session of and about Women in Sports coverage. It was hosted in the gym of a state football club.

2019 featured The #MeToo Backlash, a panel event featuring media women of all ages who have experienced sexual harassment in the workplace and also a lawyer who specialises in that issue. It was a champagne event hosted by a leading legal firm, Finlayson, in its top floor boardroom. It was a sell-out.

To celebrate 125 years of female suffrage in SA, the state which led the way for women, we have had to compete with many other groups and securing the right speakers on the right dates has resulted in seemingly endless deferrals. October 29 brings it all together in 5 by 5 which is a thrillingly diverse celebrity feminist panel event to be held at UniSA.

In no partical order, some of our posters:

Reflection: There were some good people working on WIM’s behalf in its birthing days with MEAA but there were sometimes crossed wires, delays, rules, booking issues and a feeling of powerlessness.

It has been an agreeable separation on both sides and WIM and MEAA remain warmly related and mutually supportive.

The energy and impetus of the two national convenors have rallied reborn WIM into a body of significant national status. It is a force with which to reckon. It cannot be ignored by proprietors or politicians. Dare I say that it is a new form of union, united women who can stand together and stand up for themselves and each other. We have only just begun. We have yet to flex muscle. But the power is growing. It really is very exciting. I am so glad to have been a part of its emergence - and will always tip my cap to Vickie Laurie who set the ball rolling in WA.

History Footnote: Adelaide journalist Michelle Daw created a pioneer WIM, too in the 1990s. It came to a rather embarrassing end following a great, big, triumphant networking party after which I think I was the only female journalist fronting up to work the next morning - only because I didn’t eat the chicken sandwiches.

Women in Media Conference 2019 - Day 2.

Another vivid sunrise over the Gold Coast sea. A quick swim in the shady pool. Back to Bond.

The conference begins with a panel session of Pacific Islanders: Lisa Williams of the Pacific Freedoms Forum; and Solomon Island twins, Regina and Georgiannna Lepping.

They are chaired by Kathy McLeish. Apparently this is “her” day to MC the conference. Our two leaders have shared the tasks.

The issues of reporting and, indeed, of sexism in the Pacific media world are clearly quite challenging. The women panellists explain the handicaps and how they try to overcome them, albeit the more backward technology with which they have to deal is another story. Before the conference has ended, WIM has announced it will offer technological support.

Then comes the special moment. Lisa asks if it would be alright if the three of them sang "a poorly-rehearsed traditional song of welcome". And so they do. It is just lovely, and it brings a tear to the eye of many a hardened journo.

Two brief addresses follow, Virginia Haussegger on gender bias in the media and lawyer Steve Morris on media legal issues, reiterating the need for journos to have access lawyers. Then a much-anticipated panel on social media in which Tracey Spicer talks to Bianca Dye, a very colourful radio personality, Jules Ingall on getting out there with Instagram and Ginger Gorman on her Troll Hunting book. There was a lot about vicious feedback online and it seemed assumed that this was a new phenomenon. Of course, WIMSA had dealt with the issue comprehensively at events in Adelaide and made it quite clear that so long as women have had their names and images in front of a reading public, they have been “trolled” or subjected to harassment, abuse and threats. In the old days, my days, the abuse came mainly via anonymous letters and phone calls. It was deeply intimidating and ugly and there was nothing more than rather perplexed token support, ’there, there”, from management. I recalled the psycho who identified himself as Lloyd and whose hand-scrawled letters told me that he knew where I lived and wherever I went and he was always there behind me. Look out. You never know when I’ll get you. He was the catalyst that had me do a kickboxing defence course. The paper said it could do nothing. The police said they could do nothing. It was a scary time. I later found out he was a de-institutionalised schizophrenic. In the decade that I wrote daily gossip columns, more political and provocative by far than the celebrity trivia one reads today, I was to receive a lot of anti-feminist hate spews. Hmm. We all have our stories. But, I did wish that the “social scene” panel had included at least one older subject to point out that trolling may be a new word but trolling journalists is an old game.

At coffee time I rally our WIMSA delegates - Louise Pascale, Arna, Steph Richards from InDaily who won the "Connector" free attendance prize and, surprise, surprise, former 'Tiser colleague and now editor of the Gold Coast Bulletin, Rachel Hancock. History photo duly taken.

After coffee we take to workshops. Today ours is on podcasting. I’ve been long interested in the rise and hype of podcasting. Caroline Graham of Bond Uni took the workshop and described in detail the experiences and on-the-ground learning involved in making the marvellous podcast Lost in Larrimah. It is a stunning work and she had some good stories to tell and technical tips. However, two things worry me. One is that podcasts are really just radio: docos, op-eds, or tutes. They are independent (or not) radio recordings accessed online. They are not some amazing new invention. Secondly, with immense irony considering the subject was aural, Caroline Graham has severe “vocal fry” with upward inflections and, of all things, has the sound amped up way too high. It is hard on the ears. I find I just have to tiptoe outside for a few minutes to give the old hearing some respite. I resolve to suggest voice training presentations as a subject for future WIM conferences.

Happily, a wonderful voice follows. Patricia Karvelas. ABC Radio RN Drive host and ABC TV political journo. From the first moment I saw her on telly, I pricked up my ears in joy and respect, I see her as the smartest journo on mainstream media today. She has a very well modulated voice, as well. So, I am a little surprised to hear her trying to justify it by saying that she eschewed the old traditional posh ABC presentation to be her "wog" self and speak as she spoke. I haven’t heard posh ABC for aeons. And Karvelas is bloody ace. She is also ace in the immense generosity of her presentation. She is being interviewed by the accomplished WIM Queenslander Cathie Schnitzerling to whom she made it clear that she is a very keen mentor and sharer. She also speaks of integrity and courage and authority and, in all, is one of the most valuable take-away knowledge facets of the conference. I hope the young journos soak in every wise word.

Lastly before lunch and break-up comes Professor Libby Saunders - and she brings the house down. Multitasking is bad for us. We should not do it. We must learn to say “no”. We are all agog. We are all multi-taskers. We recognise immediately what she is saying and find it shocking and liberating all at once. We want to spread the word of Libby Saunders. She is a jewel of bold, long-overdue commonsense authority.

And so to a formal sit-down lunch in the Princeton Room with beautifully set tables draped in WIM headline centrepieces. The wine flows. Alternative settings of chicken or risotto are served. The chicken is succulent. Perhaps not quite enough. But I’m dieting, anyway. I spy Patricia Karvelas at an adjoining table and do something I never ever do. I walk over and fawn shamelessly upon her. I don’t think she minds the flattery. She might even be purring.

Our WIM convenors Cathy and Kath work the room cheerfully and try to connect with everyone, Raffle tickets sell like hot cakes.

Then the final diversion, an onstage conversation between Anita Jacoby and seasoned, multi award-winning SBS host, Jenny Brockie.

It is meaty journo stuff. Caroline Jones makes a wrap-up speech and presents book voucher thank-yous to Dani Cronin and the two national convenors, the raffles are drawn, and it is goodbye speeches until the 2020 conference.

I steal a table runner and wrap it ostentatiously around my neck and we head on out towards buses waiting to take us to the Burleigh Heads SLC for farewell drinks.

Hard to find where we are supposed to be and we witness a very moving life-saver ritual on the way; a large circle of surfers in the water and lines of people standing silently to attention on the shore. It is a lost-at-sea ceremony. One of their people had died by drowning.

We find the deck destination and, after a bit of confusion, get drinks and mix a bit. Very fruity Yellowtail savvy. Hmm. Bruce turns up to collect me and soon Alex also arrives for Arna. We share a table with Lou and LJ. Photos are taken. The overall mood becomes warm and affectionate in a way it has not done throughout the conference. I talk with Tracey Spicer about her #metoo post traumatic experiences. She seems very spaced out and still not quite on deck. She introduces me to her mother-in-law who is also Cath Webber’s mother. There is a lot of Cath family present and it turns out that they have been a major force behind her in getting the conference in the streamlined shape she achieved, right down to purple fairy floss and cornettos.

There's a final photo call - all the Convenors from the different states and the two nationals. The national spread.

We make our farewells and head home for a real drink. Arna and Alex are to join us for dinner. Their treat. Indian, requests Alex. I find a likely nearby Indian with good reviews and make an online booking. We have sumptuous G&Ts in the apartment as the light goes from mauve to night over the sea and then head out into the Gold Coast scene to find the restaurant. Wow. It is buzzing and hopping. Restaurant row is busy. Oldies and youngies swarm around the place. Tots on mini scooters seem to be a fad. There is music all over the place and even a dance floor under a canopy.

And more people dance on a street corner to reggae buskers. Happy, happy everywhere. We’re happy, too. The restaurant is really unprepossessing, not very big and very busy. The staff is cheerful, welcoming and charming. We are allocated a table near the back. We order wine and I choose a selection of dishes which my instincts say may be good for us, signature dishes most of

them. A goat and minced lamb curry, prawns, chicken vindaloo, palak paneer, a salad, raita, rice and paratha for the non-Ketos. Oh my, oh my, oh my! The food is out of this world. Winner. We are even happier happy as we walk out into the night of lights and music and people. This time we stop at the public dance floor and spend some time watching. We lean on the rails around the elevated dance floor and soak it in. It is a magical thing to see people dancing, lovely dancers, lovely interactions, old and young, tattooed and conservative. We are enchanted and fascinated. Then the dancers are called off the floor to sit on chairs around the edge and a team of demonstration dancers appears and an expert performance takes place. Charming.

Replete with food and entertainment, we meander forth and part ways.

And there it is. The beaming, great blood moon out over the dark sea.

Aah.

The roar of the surf along that vast stretch of beach lulls us once again to good, dream-busy sleep in our lovely little 1703 apartment .

WIM Conference 2019 - Day 1

A flaming Gold Coast sunrise wakens us. Lovely.

Coffee, scrambled eggs, a quick swim in the shaded outdoor pool, a shower and off to Day 1 of the 2019 Women in Media Conference at Bond University.

I manage to extricate the car, Bruce programs Siri and we follow instructions through the Friday morning traffic. Bond

University is massive. It is super moderne, architecturally striking, highly manicured and rich in beautifully designed vistas, many with a lake view. There is a lot of walking on wide paths and lots of sculpture as well as trees and sweeping lawns.

I find the Basil Sellars Theatre, the foyer of which is a seething throng of stridently excited women. The din is dire. Why do so many women have to shriek when they laugh?

They are holding cups of coffee and have WIM bags over their shoulders and lanyards around their necks. I find a queue and register to claim my bag which is stashed

with goodies: a snazzy monogrammed water bottle, a phone charger, notepad and pen, lollies, and hand sanitizer.

I wander around outside looking at my fellow delegates. No familiar faces. Arna is not here. She texts “walking” and I suddenly feel terrible that we did not go and pick her up. I find seats at the rear of the theatre and text Arna.

I watch the delegates walking past down the theatre stairs and am astonished at the high-end footwear I am seeing. Lots of very pretty and well-presented young girls are sporting perilously high and glamorous shoes. Casual is not the look of the day.

The theatre is 5/8ths full. Between two and three hundred women, quite a few of them Bond Uni student volunteers dolled out in t-shirts emblazoned with the new WIM logo which is now being unveiled. Ta-da. We committees have all seen and voted on the new logo and were happily in favour of the one I now see all around us. I love it.

After Welcome to Country, our two national convenors Cath Webber and Kathy McLeish officially open up proceedings with lots a whooping joy and hype. Cath is a potently vivacious leader with a self-proclaimed reputation for bossiness. She whips up the enthusiasm. Kathy is a character of gentle competence, more understated and a perfect foil for Cath’s flamboyance.

OK…before we get going, let’s do a selfie, they cry. The audience crowds down to the front of the theatre. I’m at the back. Oh, well.

National patron Caroline Jones AO and co-patron, WA WIM pioneer Vickie Laurie offer welcome speeches and Bond Uni Vice Chancellor and President Professor Tim Brailsford follows suit. He tells us that Bond University is a private entity and also not-for-profit. It is WIM conference sponsor and the conference features many of its lecturers. And thus into the sessions at this sterling women’s event which carries the title "Equip. Elevate. Empower”.

The Age of Influence introduces Caroline Graham, a Walkley Award winner talking on influences on storytelling. For this, I wish I had sat closer since I can’t decipher the words on the complex diagrams she is displaying. She talks of the way in which we tell our stories, she talks of the new digital landscape as a wild west and the potential for colonising it. She talks of “imposter syndrome” - and we all now quietly shudder at the truth of it. I tweet what I can but I am having immense trouble thanks to the SMS treatment on my nails. My phone screen can’t feel my touch. It is frustrating and distracting. Of all times to be handicapped. How ridiculous.

Arna finally arrives, hot, puffed and in need of coffee. It was a 45-minute walk from her digs. She says she chose to do it, and I recall that, indeed, she does epic work walks in Adelaide, too.

Next session is a panel of “Wonder Women” chaired by Marina Go. A powerful lineup of Weekend Australian editor Michelle Gunn, Vogue supremo Edwina McCann, Mahlab founder Bobbi Mahlab and Karla Grant of Living Black. They are telling the tales of how they rose to their places in their careers, by chance or by design. Then Karla Grant speaks. She grew up in Adelaide and it was hard, she says. Adelaide was a hard place. And off she goes to talk of the racism people experience in Adelaide as if it is uniquely racist. She had an insufferable childhood and then, she says, she went to The Advertiser looking for a job and was told she was very pretty but would never make a journalist. Whaaat? My jaw is on the ground. I can’t believe anyone trashing Adelaide in such a public arena; I feel deeply offended. I put out a Tweet that she has slammed Adelaide and swiftly get a response looking for further quotes from a former colleague. Of course the paper would never publish Karla’s bitterness.

"Finding your Mojo" with Rob Layton picks us right up. Mojo’s new meaning is “Mobile Journalism”. I love the idea the journalism has new “mojo” as Mojo. Having been a part of the very first footprints of newspapers coming online and of the training of print journalists to work to camera and learn the potentials of what is now being called Mojo, I am excited by Rob’s presentation and the absolute commonsense of all journalists learning these skills as second nature. How invaluable it will be to journalists operating in far-flung places. How transformative it will be in the hands of capable, ethical professionals. Of course, in the wrong hands, it also has potential to propagate fake news and propaganda. Hmm.

Another panel follows. “Feel the fear - get prepared - and do it anyway!” What a powerhouse, positivity title. It involves some interesting women moderated by Emma Macdonald of Canberra WIM. Shelly Horton steals the show with her wit and vivacity. Everyone falls in love with her. She left the mainstream and set up her own business. But it is freelancer Yaara Bou Melhem who thrills. She is an understated speaker, quietly at the top of a courageous game. She has worked in war zones and says that fear sets in after the fearful event. Others may be crying PTSD but she is simply moving intelligently forward, perhaps the scariest thing being what will be the next story. She says she picks and chooses carefully these days. She is a filmmaker of some repute. Margot Anderson and Louise Davis complete the panel.

My usual steady stream of Tweets has been compromised by this fingernail business. I am being distracted from the content upon which I would like to comment by absurd perversity of my iPhone which does not respond to the touch of SMS nail. I have lost my fingers. Dammit. I have always been a contributive Tweeter. I need one of those soft-ended pens. What a lesson. Sigh.

Lunch is served in the Princeton Room with its superb vista over the university lake. Tables sparkle with wine glasses and centre towers of sweet delicacies. They feature black and white centre runners with newsprint motif, reflecting WIM reports in the mainstream media. Classy.

Rachel Berger, the comedian who has been instrumental in setting up WIM in Tasmania, takes to the stage and does a long and very amusing stand-up.

Then we repair to workshops.

By now, our fellow SA committee member, Louise Pascale, has arrived along with LJ Loch, with whom she runs Outspoken Women. We’ve also found the Adelaide journalist Steph Richards who won the Connector free trip to the conference. From inDaily, she is a fresh, bright young woman seemingly of easy disposition and self-confidence. She had quickly found her metier among the delegates and showed no need for our company. Annie Hastwell, similarly, had come from Adelaide - but we see little of her, despite hunting for her several times.

Both Arna and I have chosen Rob Layton’s presentation on smartphone pictures using computational photography. He’s a Bond lecturer and an underwater and surf photography specialist. He has a bit of movie star panache to him, exquisitely dressed in suit trousers, fitting waistcoat and open-neck shirt. He fits the bill of the stylishness we are noting in Bond University staff and students. I’m betting lots of students have crushes on him. He informs us of the best Apps for journalists: Halide, Focos, Spectre, Night Trail, what popup mikes work, how Lunar Fusion is good for editing. It pays to work with an iPhone, it seems. Androids are not as well served.

Then comes the most breathtaking session of the conference: "Trust and Truth" with Sandra Sully talking to News Corp’s star political reporter Annika Smethurst about her headline experience of being raided by the AFP. On stage with her are likeable Brisbane crime reporter Paula Doneman and media lawyer, Sophie Scott. All three are gripping and Sophie makes it abundantly clear that journalists should watch carefully what they put into print and how they say it, and always have legal advice. Annika speaks of the stark horror of finding the federal police on her doorstep. It was a carpet cleaner she was expecting when the doorbell rang. She warned about how much data one should and should not have on the mobile phone. This becomes more and more a point of vulnerability for journalists. And it was clear that she was soldiering on with professional courage and integrity despite the daunting shadow of potential jail time which hangs over her head. She is a class act and the hapless but vital core of our #journalismisnotacrime #pressfreedom movement. I think we are all grateful to her for appearing at the conference. Hopefully, our powerful solidarity is some comfort to her.

The next session is about finance and neither Arna nor I are still in the area of journalism in which such career advice is relevant. We tip-toe out.

Bruce collects us and Siri directs us, rather oddly, back to the Ultiqa and its challenging carpark. We have sunset G&Ts and dissect the conference thus far.

Move to wine while Bruce prepares a Bruce hotel apartment dinner; not his finest since he experimented with ready-made rub and a plastic oven bag, but it is a decent dinner with masses of gorgeous kale and a tomato bocconcini salad, followed by diet jelly and yoghurt. We loll about and talk into the night and then organise another Uber to get Arna safely home.

This little apartment is pleasing us no end. The roar of the sea is the most exquisite lullaby and the radiant reds of dawn are the most beautiful of all possible awakenings, albeit we have to lower the blinds when the sun takes to the sky.

I love this place.

Note: Goup Selfie WIM shot copied from WIM page.

Off to the Women In Media 2019 conference - from Adelaide with love

Virgin has made everything easy for our departure to Coolongatta.

Smiling assistants at the Adelaide Airport electronic checkins mean that there are no queues of touchscreen fumblers; a good omen for the trip to the 2019 Women In Media Conference on the Gold Coast.

I am one of the world’s worst flyers, so these things are significant. Like valium.

For some technical reason upon which the pilot does not expand, our flight is lower than usual, skimming the top of clouds and according a good view, especially when we

come to the Queensland bushfires.

They have been headline news for more than a week now. Wicked raging fires, deliberately lit but fuelled by drought and climate change.

Oh, my.

And there they are. Lots of them. The scale of the tragedy and the number of small fires as well as huffing huge ones is most distressing and one’s heart bleeds for the hapless wildlife, already stressed by drought.

We pick up a grey Mitsubishi Outlander from Budget, turn on Google Maps and drive what is a surprisingly long distance along busy broad roads lined by interesting tropical vegetation among modern suburbs and townships to Broadbeach where, with help from Expedia, I’ve booked us into the Ultiqa Air hotel apartments. Gorgeous, sleek

little self-contained and fully-equipped digs with the Pacific Ocean stretching to blue infinity outside our 17th floor windows. Yes. Happiness.

The hotel carpark is above the Oasis shopping centre next door and the receptionist warns us that it was a high level and a very curvy drive up. She understated. Curvy? It is one of the most

convoluted and challenging claustrophobic carparks of our experience with impatient locals tooting and speeding heedessly around the narrow hairpins. It seems to take forever as we gingerly find our way to the hotel's allocated places in a cement loft way up the top behind an electronic gate. But how to open it? We have swipe passes but there is no sign of a connector. We get out and explore the gate and the surrounding walls. Confounding. Do we turn around and go back? Ring the hotel? Then I spot it some distance behind us on a pillar. Grief! At last we’re in. We have to find spots marked with a yellow dot. Phew. Here’s one. Once the car is parked, we take a deep breath and swear never to take it out again. And down the ramp we toddle to the lift. It is shared with the Oasis shopping centre and has signs prohibiting taking shopping trolleys. The swipe passes access the lift momentum. Now which way? Do we go up to go down or is it down to go up? We go up and arrive at a long gleaming lobby on the hotel’s 4th floor. Then we have to find our way along passages to the actual hotel lifts and use the swipe passes to go up to our floor.

“Fffnthffnn” says the lift as it stops at 17. This is the first lift with a speech impediment we have encountered. Much hilarity. One is almost tempted to keep travelling just to hear her speak. Instead, we sort out our luggage, purr at our quarters, swoon some more at the view and head out for food.

Beside the hotel the Oasis Shopping Centre holds not only a large Woolworths and BWS booze shop but lots of classy boutiques, a post office, a medical centre, newsagent, souvenir shop, travel bureau, ice cream stand, etc. Um. Woolworths has some novel signage.

An exit arcade leads one to a mall outside which is a solid row of verandahed restaurants. Take your pick. Any nationality you like. They’re fairly empty. It is late for lunch. We choose Nanh Thai and sit down to a long overdue meal. We’re eating Keto, no sugar/no carbs, so we order beef salad and green chicken curry, no rice. It is wildly spicy and lovely and charges us up to go shopping for provisions - gin and wine top of the list. And thus, stocked, I message my valued fellow Women In Media SA (WIMSA) committee member, Arna Eyers-White, who has also invested in attending this historic conference. We liaise an evening get-together before I head out to look at the beach.

Oh, the beach. Golden sand and firm for walking near the water. We shuck off the cobwebs of travel and stride it out. Lots of interesting things for newcomers. Not just lifesaver stations but jellyfish. Lots. Never seen their like.

We plan early G&Ts and, traumatised by the carpark adventures, I don't offer to pick Arna up in the car. Mistake. She is staying at an Air B&B at Burleigh Waters and it later eventuates that she has a devil of a time finding transport.

When she does arrive by bus and after hours of frustration, I don’t know when I’ve ever seen anyone in more need of a G&T. A few drinks later, we meander down to that paradise of handy restaurants below. They are busy now.

We pick Mario’s Italian and are seated deep inside where we are fussed over by a sweet young Kiwi waitress and have a pleasant, unhurried meal and lots more wine. Bruce has a mountain of tiny octopi in red sauce. I have a delicate veal masala dish with prawns over almost raw green beans. Arna has a veal variation. We totter back to the apartment for a final wine and I put Arna into a homegoing Uber since she has not yet organised the joy of Uber for herself. We go to sleep with the door open, lulled by the magnificent roar of the sea.

With its miles of open length and constant rolling layers of waves, it is a mighty resonant presence.

Thanks, WIM.