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Photo by: goodpie
My employer rotates travel junkets among the editors and writers of our publication. The junkets have been increasing to the rate of one or two a month.
A few weeks ago I was asked if I was interested in taking one. Interested? Ecstatic and in heaven, is more like it.
I love travelling. The opportunity to combine travel and writing, as the opportunity to combine eating and writing, has always been one of those dreams I kept for an imaginery life. A dream that doesn't actually happen in the real world.
Many journalists scoff at travel and food writing as light, unimportant. Perhaps it is. It is not likely to change the course of history. But both can enlighten and expand minds, and that's not such a bad thing.
As Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, many years ago:
For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel
for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilisation, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints.
I travel when I open a book; I travel when I walk through my neighbourhood; I travel when I go to the cinema or watch TV. I travel when I listen to a person's story. Sometimes I travel in the same places through different seasons with the same people, themselves travelling, too.
And, in about a week and a half, I will be going on a junket to Manchester, England and Wales.
Pinch me!
1 Comments:
We're waiting with bated breath: How was the trip?
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