First the hands, a trembling voice as the words find their place, eyes that squint, then the focus: the story teller begins. It starts either in a far off place, or it opens here. There may be too much to say or no words to describe. But to translate the pleasures of a much loved adventure, or to explain a sight encountered unaccompanied, is to delight in the feeling that change has evoked. And a quiet stirring reverberates after the little story ends. Perhaps in both hearts, perhaps in one. The tale was shared. And for now, that is enough. Off the lone traveller’s chest. The shoes are adjusted, the walk continued.
“How did your journey begin?”, asks the other, now walking alongside the traveller. A reflection first, then words: “Before I could walk, I flew."
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And so it commences, melting away in my own nostalgia: little travel notes I have gathered over the years. Stories and records and photographs of a fortunate voyager. Excitement is in the air!
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Whether it be by plane or by mind that we move.
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| First travels start in dreams to be sure, then one starts moving around in new spaces, seeing things for the first time. For me it was all about playing in unexplored terrains around our house where I grew up. But what imagination adds to observation can turn simple walks into daring quests. [The painted ceilings of Duwiseb Castle in Namibia.] |
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| Stories of adventurers fueled the need to be an explorer and to go out and discover things in my own world. Then: maps. Old maps, the prospect of lost treasure, navigation for survival in the veld in wild Africa. Needless to say, my favourite childhood toy was in fact a tiny rusty metal globe. A great treasure chest, doubling as a map so I won’t get lost in the world. At a later stage in life, I started sketching ancient looking world maps, because to me, it still remains that ultimate symbol of exploration and raw discoveries. [World Map sketch in progress. I adore black ink on paper and it remains one of my favourite mediums.] |
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| Self-made adventure: flying over to save a falling camera. [The amateur photographer in the wonderful city of London.] |
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| The lonely traveller is seldom alone. [Studies in clouds. Namibia.] |
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| And oh! What we'll get to see on our way there. Icebergs spotted, flying over Greenland. |
Come fly with me. *t
