Travel now not tomorrow

  Where are you from? It’s a simple phrase, and it should be answered easily. We’ve all got to be from somewhere, haven’t we? But as more and more of us move around the world, we find we are no longer anchored to one place. As a result, the question becomes complex. Do we identify with where we were born? Or the place we were raised? Or even where we matured and discovered ourselves? However, the people who ask, ‘Where are you from?’ are generally looking for a simple answer. So should we say we are ‘from’ our birthplace, or should we opt for the place that enhanced our life? I have no answer. Instead, I’d like to make a plea that no one should expect any single soul to come from any solo location. Like rolling stones, we roam. We might not gather any moss, but we pick up other things – patterns of life, foods, traditions, language, voice. And, like cucumbers stewed in flavoured vinegar, we acquire a different essence. We keep the original contour, but we are changed, enhan...

  People often are shocked that I travel alone. “What do you do at meals?” they ask. I eat and watch people. It is not difficult. Women have been travelling alone for centuries. Ida Pfeiffer is one of my favourite Victorian era travellers. She was a widow whose children had grown and, in 1852, she set out for the Holy Land. She was robbed and cheated but came home exhilarated. She tells of crossing the Nile to visit the Pyramids. Two large powerful men stood side by side; I mounted on their shoulders, and was held fast by their heads, while they supported my feet in an horizontal position above the waters, which at some places reached almost to their armpits, so that I feared every moment that I should sit in the water. On her return to Germany, Ida couldn’t settle back into her old life. She sold her belongings and set off around the world, financing her trips by writing of her adventures. Another woman traveller I admire is Isabella Bird. She shed the role of family spinst...