Where does the urge to travel come from? I like to think it started for me when, aged four years old and wearing only inflatable arm bands, my parents failed to notice me floating out into the Mediterranean Sea from a beach in the south of Spain. By the time my absence was noticed I was half way to North Africa (actually only a few hundred metres from the Spanish shore, but family stories tend to get exaggerated over time).
I was promptly returned to shore and given a dressing down. A short while later I was spotted again bobbing out to sea. I may not have known it at the time, but that early sense of adventure would stay with me throughout my life.
So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when this native of Cumbria, long living in London and old enough to know better, packed in his career and moved to Bolivia with only the vaguest idea why. We lived in the beautiful ‘white city’ of Sucre, we volunteered with local NGOs working with street children and literacy in rural areas, we made lots of new friends and this blog was born to recount the adventure.
A fantastic eighteen months living in Bolivia and travelling through Latin America later, a now Bolivianised Cumbrian moves to the Netherlands…taking with him the spirit of the Andean nation, and a motto repeated over-and-over by Bolivian officials everywhere: todo es posible, nada es seguro (everything is possible, nothing is certain).
As LP Hartley wrote, “The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there”, and the damp lowlands of the Netherlands couldn’t be further from the soaring Andean peaks of Bolivia.
Life in the land of Orange is just another turning on the journey…welcome to camelids in clogs.