I love travel and I love writing. Right now I think this is all that’s keeping me sane! I can just about imagine myself as a round the world traveller seeing all there is to be seen. I think of all the things I want to do – see Botticelli’s Venus, climb a French col, swim with sharks, then I think, hold on but… this is me – am I really the kind of person who is going to do these things?

A new destination is never really all that different to home – there are the same obstacles and the same insecurities I find in myself… but maybe, just maybe, this time will be different and I will find somewhere that I can really be myself, someone who I can really let go with or perhaps just a moment where I feel everything finally makes sense…

The travel bug really does feel like a disease – to be reliving the memories of the last adventure or planning the next, reading travel books and blogs, being inspired by travel pictures on Instagram and Pinterest – it really is like an addiction that can’t be beaten. But then who would want to be a ‘recovering travelaholic’ per se? Rather keep falling off the wagon and seeing more of the world with each tumble in a new and exciting destination…