Frightening moment today.
I am reading Crazy Rich Asians, and today came upon a section which refers to arriving in Singapore’s Changi airport – marvelling at the modern structure and palm trees etc in comparison with New York’s airports – and I realised that I could relate to this. I’ve been to New York, and to Changi. I’ve been to several Indian airports before and after they have been updated. I’ve landed at small African airports on small planes, and disembarked from huge 380s into the fantastically modern terminals in Dubai and Doha. So it’s great that I can see in my mind’s eye what is being described, in this part of this book and in many others too no doubt.
This prompted me to wonder – yes, seriously wonder – whether I would ever get to do any of that travelling again and if not, would it matter? I honestly don’t know, but I was thinking along the lines that I have already experienced so much and have a huge bank of memories already, that surely I can understand enough about the world and truly ‘feel’ what it’s like. That’s what I like about travel – being there, seeing the differences and the local way of living, not so much the history and facts.
Really? Can I really imagine staying home for ever? Or at least confining myself to the UK? Or places I can get to by train (Europe)?
You see, already I’m clawing back some destinations!
But I’m still shocked at myself for even contemplating this changed future.