I’ve been pretty lucky in my life. I’ve been able to do a lot of travelling.

When I was a kid, I got the opportunity to live in another country (the US to be exact) and also to travel through Europe. Not to mention visits to Japan and Hong Kong, which back in the ’70s were highly exotic locations. These were exciting experiences which definitely whetted the appetite for more.

When I reached adulthood, I was determined to do more travelling, on my own terms. And I was lucky enough to be able to. I’ve done a number of trips to the US and have also backpacked through Europe. I’ve done a driving tour of New Zealand, and have also spent plenty of time exploring my own home, here in Australia.

I love travelling. I love the opportunities to visit places, and to see how the reality matches with the imagined sense of what a place is like. I love meeting people and learning new things. I love the idea of a life where you don’t have to worry about the stresses of day-to-day existence – where your main considerations are where will I be tomorrow, what shall I see, where shall I sleep and how shall I eat?

When I was in my twenties, travelling was right at the forefront of my life. I always seemed to be planning my next trip, and thinking about the wonderful places I would explore next. I had a serious bucket list of everywhere I wanted to go – which was pretty much everywhere I hadn’t yet been.

Funny how things change. I’m a little older than 20 now (just a little – don’t want to give too much away). And while I still love to travel, it’s not something I do anywhere near as often. That bucket list from so long ago has barely been eaten into since then.

And yet, I don’t mind that much. I no longer have that pressing urge to see everything in the world. And, most amazingly, when I do manage to get away, I’m far more content just kicking back and doing nothing much, rather than racing around to take in all the sights.

What has happened? How could this be? I guess part of it is getting a bit older and having a bit less energy than I used to. Also, priorities change. With work and family, that need to see the sights somehow got relegated.

But I do have to say my desire for far away places has not dimmed. It’s more about the practicalities of getting there. So in these later years, I’ve found a new way to satisfy the travel bug. I do it in my head. I use my imagination to take me to places no jet plane could ever reach. I get to explore new locations that nobody else has even conceived of.

That’s the great thing about being a writer.I still get to experience the joys of being far, far away. But I save myself all the hassles of getting there. And the expense as well.

So, till I get back from my next trip, I’ll see you all later.