Day 3 - The Threshold at The Entrance 

This walk is about equal rights for gay and lesbian Australians but it's hard not to get caught up in the fairytale aspects of marriage that we have been sold through sitcoms, Royal telecasts and family milestones since we were old enough to crawl.

Some of these traditions started as symbols of male dominance but putting a ring on it, wearing white and donning veils has changed over time. 

While I can't imagine wearing a veil  on my big day, unless I have a pimple, I have always liked the tradition of carrying a loved one over the threshold. I blame too many Doris Day movies in my childhood (can you ever have too many?).

This one dates back to Roman times and taps into a number of creepy patriarchal themes as well as something to do with evil spirits but quite frankly I just like being carried.

That's why I am besotted with Adam's idea of the #yesvotechallenge where you can show your support for marriage equality by carrying someone you love over the threshold. 

Share your video and challenge friends to take part.

No ice is involved, or planking, but I suggest loving someone a little bit lighter than you are.

Day 2 - Terrigal via ferry from Palm Beach to Wagstaffe

Yesterday as Sydney's sky was emblazoned with the word 'no' Adam and I sought positivity on the road to Terrigal from Avalon.

On day two of our walk to Brisbane, as we adjusted to livings with sore muscles, heavy rucksacks and ugly, ugly walking shoes we decided to have an informal survey of marriage equality popularity.

If a car beeped in recognition of the rainbow flag trailing from Adam's rucksack, the equality badges or a general aura of fabulousness, we would count it as a yes. If someone swerved or shouted abuse it was most likely a no.

The verdict was plenty of 'yes' honks, as well as some encouraging conversations from curious locals.

One shout of 'faggots' and a retro cry of 'poofters' from a grape Holden (I mean, really) was water of a duck's rather stiff and sore back.

It's early days but hopefully many of the 'nos' will disappear into the big blue, like yesterday's ugly Sydney sky. 

Why I’m walking 1000 kilometres for love

In all relationships you have to patiently listen to the crazy ideas of the ones that you love, whether it's committing to a crippling mortgage or a night out bowling. All loving partnerships are built on tolerance but Australia can't tolerate the idea of me marrying my boyfriend, which has resulted in me saying 'yes' to walking from Sydney to Brisbane.

Following the plebiscite's announcement, after PM Malcolm Turnbull's to-ing and fro-ing and before the 'Stop The Fags' posters on the streets of Melbourne, the man I love in man-flu and in health proposed packing our backpacks this Saturday and walking to Brisbane to raise awareness for marriage equality and to try to convince as many people to vote 'yes' as possible.

As well as being ridiculously handsome my boyfriend is rather persuasive, making him an extremely talented lawyer. Adam opened his case by saying that this was an issue that affected us directly, that he was angry that the government was holding a popularity contest to measure the validity of gay and lesbian relationships and that Brisbane would be a better destination than Melbourne because it would be warmer.

I said 'yes' immediately because I feel frustrated and ostracised by a country that I love and that once believed in a fair go. As a third-generation Australian the values of equality were drummed into me by my parents, grandparents, teachers, priests and nuns.
As a child the television blurted that if you were: "As Greek as souvlaki and as Irish as a stew, Italian as spaghetti and as Danish as a blue," then you were an Aussie. Add being as gay as Peter Allen and as lesbian as Magda Szubanski, and it sounds even better.

I was taught to treat someone as I would like to be treated, a motto I have tried to adhere to (failing quite a few times on the way) and I am now devastated to have the government and critics telling me that I am less worthy than my straight friends, less of an Australian and less of a person.