When I was young, I frequently farewelled or welcomed home my Grandmother on her many trips. She travelled frequently and always solo, coming home with so many amazing stories of the places she saw and people she met.
At her house, I loved to stand in front of her wall-sized world map, covered in blue and orange push-pins, marking all the places she had been. My sister and I were never short of dress-ups; hula skirts from Hawaii, handwoven grass hats from Fiji.
Fast forward to the early 1990s and I was fortunate to have the opportunity to be an exchange student in Italy. I was 15 years old and travelled without family or friends for the first time.
The travel bug has had a permanent home with me ever since.