Photo by Paulo Brandão"

Sometimes I feel like I’m part of a exclusive cult, a cult of travel. Where the only people who relate are those that have also travelled for long periods of time.

So much so that I think I suppress a lot of travel thoughts because I’m not sure those around me will be able to see where I’m coming from.
It’s hard to remember just how I was and what I thought when I hadn’t experienced any travel except the odd holiday in the sun.

I’m not quite sure what it was that triggered my desire to leave home to wander the globe for a few years. It was probably hearing various travel stories from friends, seeing how their eyes lit up telling their stories and wondering just what made their travel experience that special.

The best excuse that I heard was that he’d never been anywhere so couldn’t travel…

Now this brings me nicely to my story. I came back to my flat from a hard workout at the gym to find my flat mate and his brother chatting around a laptop. My flat mate asked me to convince his brother to go traveling, at first I just laughed and told them to read my website. As I got talking to him I quickly realised that I couldn’t convince him that it was a good idea, it was clear that he didn’t have that spark that made him want to go.

He was in a good position to go, young, lots of time, no serious career, no girlfriend and no kids. The best excuse that I heard was that he’d never been anywhere so couldn’t travel. I gave him a copy of the lonely planet guide to South east Asia, but sadly it never made it further than being briefly flicked through.

It made me wonder where I originally got my motivation to travel from because somewhere at the back of my mind I remember that feeling of indifference.