An Announcement: My Point Is This

“What are you talking about?”

I’m no stranger to that question, although it’s usually phrased in different ways such as “What the hell do you mean, Mike?”, “Are you aware you’re actually talking, as in Out Loud?” and “Please get to the point before one of us dies“.

But in blogging circles, it’s one of the Big Questions you need to answer before you commit fingers to keyboard. What’s your topic? What do you have to say? Why is it you that has to say it? How do you conquer the world?

Over the weekend, I provided a couch for a Professional Hobo to kip on. She’s a marvel. (More on that later). And she knows how to tackle the Big Questions, which is why she’s a successful location-independent writer – and a million other things besides. She knows exactly what she means. She’s always aware of what she’s saying. She knows how to get to the point.

And so over the last few days, I’ve been thinking about what my point is.

Regular readers (sorry – it always makes me giggle when I find myself writing that) will have noticed a change in my writing over the last 8 months. Prior to this year, I’ve been a green blogger, a crazy architecture blogger,  a writer of this and a blogger of that. I’ve peppered the Internet with words. But since January, I’ve shifted towards what I truly want to write about – and it’s not quite what I initially expected.

For the last few years in various corners of teh Interwebz, Fevered Mutterings has been a reflection of my interests as a fledgling professional writer – but it’s only recently become a travel blog. It’s a clumsy fit. Whenever I see Walmgate Bar here in York, I’m reminded of my blog at the moment. It’s sorta fun, but also a bit…inelegant. If you stand back, you can see the join.

The solution to this problem is obvious. I should move my travel-related writing elsewhere.

So that’s the plan.

A new site.

(Don’t worry. I’ll be keeping Fevered Mutterings as it was always intended to be – an outlet for the least coherent parts of my output. That won’t change. I love the sound of my own voice way too much for that).

…..

So, returning to my original point (because these days, I do indeed get to the point)…what the hell am I talking about?

If you go to my Travel archives and look under the heading “How and Why”, you’ll see that I’m not Nora Dunn or Christine Gilbert or Chris Guillebeau or any of the other super-clued-up How To Get The Life You Want gang. I’m not going to be telling you the best way to become location-independent – or if I am, it’s by directly referencing these guys.  If you want to know the mechanics of long-term travel or becoming a digital nomad, these are the people you need to read. They have those answers.

In contrast, my thing is this, and this, and this (and this). It’s about seeing the world better.

Learning to look at the obvious things. The things so taken for granted that hardly anyone wastes breath discussing them. Not renegotiated, not argued or even considered – just…there.

How many of these assumptions are so self-evident they’re not even worth thinking about?

Traveling will improve your life.

The more photos you can take, the better your memory will be.

When we travel, we leave the Old Us behind.

English cooking is DREADFUL.

The more antiquated a travel experience, the more authentic it is.

Having less money makes you less generous.

The easier, the better.

English is the world’s first global language.

Locals always know what’s really going on.

You should always try to be objective about things.

Digital maps are much more useful than their analogue counterparts.

That’s what interests me most – because behind these things are hints at the Ultimate Questions of travel: why do we do it? What do we get from it? What do we hope to gain from it? What’s it for?

And all too often, we’ve buried these vital lines of inquiry behind things we never discuss because, well, duh, they’re obvious. (I mean, everyone knows photos aid memory. Except…well, maybe they don’t).

There are those who are asking such tricky questions, such as the marvellous Alain de Botton (can we really escape from our old selves when we travel?) or Eric Weiner (can happy places make me happy?). But I’ll hazard the opinion that generally, we’re still blundering around in the dark. Generally, we don’t think too much about it. We just do it. It’s just what we do.

For now, you’ll find me tackling this line of inquiry here, or (acceptance permitting) places like Brave New Traveler. But ultimately, and soon, it’ll be a whole new online venture.

So why would you want to come along for the ride?

I can’t guarantee I’ll help you organize your life better, or write a better blog, or sustainably hit the road in 6 months, never to return.

But I can help you look at things in a new way – the questions we never ask, the sights we never allow ourselves to see – and help you make your own mind up about them, unhindered by the myriad influences bombarding us from all sides. The aim is to approach everything with a healthy humility and a carefully crafted sense of ignorance (trust me, I’m big on this bit) – and enjoying a broader, deeper experience of the world as a result.

I probably can’t help you start your travels – but I can help you appreciate them better once you’re off.

So, I’ll keep you posted. There’ll be laughter (when I attempt to say something profound), there’ll be tears (when I attempt humour). But it might help you see the world a bit differently – and isn’t that what travel is all about?

That’s my point.

Thanks for waiting.

Images: JuditK, liber, helgabj and Mike Sowden.