This Forest View is of Papua New Guinea, a country where I spent 10 years in the 1970s and 1980s. In those days, immediately after PNG became independent of colonial power Australia, the country was a wonderland for expatriates (ex-pats) – with equitable tropical climate, seasons wet or dry, but always tolerably hot.

The ‘ex-pats’ jobs were to localise, training local people to take over their job, which had difficulties as the local people were from a pre-industrial society. Part of an expat’s job was to bring local people up to modern technology.

There was time for social and sporting life, and for long walks across the country, along the Kokoda Trail that the Japanese used to invade from the north during the second world war in what was an Australian colony, before they were repulsed by Australian and American soldiers.

You could fly out over the central mountain range to Kokoda, and walk back. It was a 5 day walk, staying in thatched huts thoughtfully made available for crazy foreign walkers, in villages accessible only on foot or by helicopter, sharing food with the local villagers at a barbecue called a ‘mu mu’.

A parachute expert offered me a parachute experience. There were perfunctory training sessions, and then out to Port Moresby international airport for my first parachute jump. The plane was Cessna 172, smaller inside than most cars. It was left hand drive, with the pilot on left, myself on the right, and the instructor and another novice at the back. I was on a static line, which opened the parachute automatically, without any intervention by the possibly confused jumper. The door had been removed, so I stepped out, put my left foot on the aircraft wheel, holding the wing of the aircraft, awaiting the nod of the instructor.

The nod came, 2,500 feet in the air, so I pushed off, and – suddenly – I was floating gently downwards – terror to tranquility. Using a lever on my shoulder I could change direction to enjoy the varied scenery of this interesting country. As I gently approached the ground, I was concerned at a herd of cattle directly beneath me, looking upwards with mild interest but with no intention of moving. I had no idea that that there were cattle in PNG. It seemed that I was landing on the only cattle herd in the country. At the last minute these stubborn animals reluctantly shuffled away, to leave me with a clear and safe landing.