In 2003 we moved from London to Tamworth, rural New South Wales, to serve as parish priest to a church community in this slightly parochial backwater of Australia. When we landed at the small regional airport, my already culture-shocked daughter looked about, somewhat bewildered, and asked where all the people were. Say no more.
In my desperation to survive this antipodean outpost, a British friend gave me a copy of the paper he was reading at the time and so a lifeline was thrown. The Guardian Weekly has been my only paper since. I read it avidly and its purchase has become a high point in my week.
For three years while living in Jakarta it kept me engaged with life on the global superhighways. The fresh feel of the coverage never suffers from the laxity of second-hand news. There are people in the world with real problems and the Guardian has engaged their voices.
Since then, while working for the government back in Australia, the Weekly has time and again enabled me to look the well-read and informed individual in many a conversation. Over the past year this work has seen me away from home for 10 months, where the online edition of the Guardian has journeyed with me.
Once home I quickly revert to the paper edition; the crosswords need the tactile crinkle and crunch of a living paper.
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