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There are some questions to which the only real answer is: if you have to ask the question...you won't understand the answer. This isn't a criticism; it's just that there are some facets of personality that you cannot possibly understand fully if you do not possess them. When I watch television with my partner about some far-flung glory, I start to fidget, get itchy, working out how and when I might possibly manage to get to see it for myself. He maintains an intellectual interest in the subject, with no mad urge to go pack a bag right then. I don't "get" that. How can you not want to go...right now!?

I'm mildly irritated by his lack of response. He's simply amused by my enthusiasm.

As far as I'm concerned "Somewhere" and "I want to go" are tautological, he tells me. There is nowhere on this planet that I do not want to go. Some places are higher up the list than others; some places will prove greater challenges than others. I'd love to go to the jungle, for instance, but I do have a major problem with insects, flying things, and spiders. It will not be an entirely pleasant experience.

"Will not", you notice? Not "would not". I am convinced that I will eventually see all of the things I want to see - or die trying, as the saying goes.

Why? What is it about the world out there that stirs the unfightable urge to go look at it for myself? Can I not experience it vividly enough through books, and film, and television and the internet? Am I trying to prove something, if only to myself? Am I indulging in nostalgia for the days of the unknown, and a romantic ideal of being a fearless explorer? Or am I afraid to stay in one place and be settled? Is there a gap in my life that I need to fill with excitement and adventure? Is it just the lure of the exotic?

No, and yes, and maybe, and a measure of I don't know depending which of the above you're postulating. How do I begin to explain, why I travel?

Firstly, it is in the blood and in the brain. My Dad has a saying: "I wanted to go around the world - so I did." That need to "go look" has been bred into us. We were brought up on stories of the ships he stoked, and the places he saw. Our games centred on maps, and the environment around us.

Then, I suppose, there's the fact that I have always travelled. I do not remember a time before the calming movement of a bus or a train or a car.

My mother's family live at the other end of the country. As a babe in arms I was taken by train or by bus to visit them. I do not remember so far

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