The labels 'Cultural Revolution' and 'Great Leap Forward' seem to have been prematurely misused last century in China, as now the heated cultural and economic development of China is evidenced by smoke. Smoke... from industry consuming raw materials at an unparalled rate, dusty Beijing construction sites in frenzied preparation for their Olympics, exhaust fumes from the chaos of traffic on resurfaced but unmarked motorways (a taxi that I was travelling in one night was hit by a bus full of soldiers), and out of Beijing, a choking haze that rolls into the countryside - dimming a solitary early morning walk along the Great Wall. Even south to the exotic colonial city of Shanghai, a roof top bar overlooking its financial skyline seared with flames, burning those too close to the bar and lighting fiery cocktails long into the night.

It was only a brief taste of China, but it was hot.

Meanwhile the East China Sea separates hostilities between China and Japan, bitterness that seems enflamed by Japanese Prime Minister Koizumi's recent annual visit to the Yasukumi War Memorial in Tokyo - an uneasy tension between an election promise to respect Japan's war dead, but also (in the eyes of many Asian neighbours) an act of glorification of numerous war criminals. Arriving late on a Sunday night in Tokyo there were further disconcerting rumblings, as my lodgings shook steadily for some seconds during a low level earthquake - which I gather is a fortnightly occurrence.

Blazing west across the island of Honshu from Tokyo's tremors, the Japanese high-speed trains lead to the scene of one of mankind's most ferocious fireballs - Hiroshima. The Peace Memorial Park provides a harrowing reminder of the destruction unleashed at 8.15am on 6 August 1945 and since the war ended, whenever a nuclear test is conducted, the mayor of Hiroshima sends a letter to the country responsible - both of complaint at the detonation, and hope, that it may be the last. Hiroshima itself is now a vibrant, modern city of beautiful waterways and cafes, while in the park, paper cranes remain folded at the Children's Memorial and the ghostly shell of the A Bomb Dome remains the backdrop for group photos of ebullient Japanese school children.

The southern island of Kyushu is historically linked with the expression 'Kamikaze' (Divine Wind), as fortuitous typhoons repeatedly destroyed invading Mongol armies near the town of Fukuoka in the late 13th century (more effective than the Great Wall proved to be in China, mind you). In more recent times, Fukuoka is also regarded as the origin for some of Japan's most beautiful women (generally sporting Ashgrove Boots for their own raids) who happily mix with U.S servicemen from Okinawa and the odd Australian tourist - in seamy bars with English names such as 'The Happy Cock.' Speaking of poultry, the fires continued to rage in Asia as I left Tokyo behind, with millions of birds being burned in response to the growing human death rate from Avian Flu. I'd suggest however that at least some cooking is preferable, after a meal in Osaka consisted of raw chicken, beef and possibly horse...

So out of the Asian fires (and even frying pans), I will be back to the flame trees of Canberra for the summer months (when the Nation's Capital is known for the burning rubber of Summer Nats), as I restock the war chest and hopefully head to Vancouver in time for the Canadian springtime. Always inspired by a lyric, I recall that Jeff Buckley wrote the song 'Vancouver' before he died, which began: "Lady, all the troubles are my fright, I disgust you. Feel the power, you cut the truth into you. Why? Do you think I'd hidden out? On this rely - I could kiss you, with lines of escape in my mouth."

But before that next escape to North America next year, this week I enjoyed that great pleasure of flying in over Bondi on a sunny November morning with the Flying Kangaroo on my tail after ten months away. The in-flight entertainment included the recent Australian film 'Little Fish' which closed with Cold Chisel's 'Flame Trees'… words that will stand as my farewell from travel tales for the time being, and a return home...

But Ah! Who needs that sentimental bullshit anyway,
Takes more than just a memory to make me cry;
I'm happy just to sit here, round a table with old friends,
And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies...