I’ve been asked a number of times how I’ve made travel work for me. I’ve often had people comment, ‘you’re so lucky, I wish I could do that’. And in some respects I am lucky. My parents instilled the travel bug in me from a very young age. We didn’t travel far, usually only to visit family in Australia, or road trips around New Zealand. But they met on an overland trip from Kathmandu to London, and my bedtime stories were often of their (sometimes mad) adventures.
Since the age of about ten I knew the world was out there waiting for me to explore it, and was determined nothing could get in my way. I finished university, wanting to have something behind me before I took off, and them was heartbroken when I found out I had to do experience to make the degree worthwhile. The itch in the feet was getting unbearable. I didn’t manage to save anywhere near as much as I hoped and could have, but hindsight is always a wonderful thing! But I had my plan and stuck to it.
Change is terrifying. New experiences are scary. But nothing was as scary as staying where I was, wondering what else was out there. So I took the leap, and haven’t looked back.