Why Katja Travels

Seven is a lucky number. You wouldn’t think it from watching Se7en, but that’s Cinematic Art for you. (Look, they can’t even spell it right). But seven is indeed lucky, and it’s a good place to end this guest-posting series revolving around the following question…

“Let’s imagine I’ve never travelled, and I’ve never wanted to. What am I missing out on?”

And of course I’m going to ruin it next week by answering the question myself, making it an 8-parter. Eight? It’s a lucky number if you’re Chinese. And they associate seven with the gates of Hell gaping open. This just goes to show that whatever you do in life, someone has got it in for you.

Anyway, this week’s lucky guest / chop suey is Katja of Driving Like A Maniac, also known as “Floatykatja”, “Kate” and “Flame-haired Hoarder Of My DVD Boxsets”. (The last is my own nickname for her and, I like to think, fairly self-explanatory). As the name of her site suggests, she’s a maniac. Which is a good thing. I wouldn’t say you’re in safe hands, but time spent in her company is always interesting.

(Occasionally in the Chinese sense).

So  – what say you, Katja?

*****

There are plenty of people around the world who may never have made it out of their immediate area. The second part, however, is much more unlikely. Really? You’ve never *wanted* to travel? How about while you were watching Baywatch on a rainy English afternoon? You didn’t think, just for a moment, how lovely it would be to be on a Californian beach in the sunshine? Or when you watched Lord of the Rings and saw all that amazing New Zealand scenery? Yeah, you know you wanted to go there, just a little bit, at the back of your mind. I think everyone has considered the prospect of getting away from it all at some point, even if it’s just with a wistful sigh, knowing that it may never happen in reality.

OK: confession time. I’m not a big traveller. I’ve only been outside Europe once. Admittedly, I was pretty adventurous with that one trip and went to Nepal, but I’m by no means a globetrotter. This, however, makes me even more appreciative when I do travel. Little things take on momentous importance. Speaking to someone in their native tongue and being understood. Trying new foods that you’ve never heard of before. Learning about new and different cultures. Leaping out of your comfort zone and embracing the differences – that’s what make travelling so exciting.

If I had never travelled, I’d never have found myself being caught in a squall at the top of the Himalayas and having to stumble down the mountain, in the dark, to the next village because our campsite had been flattened. And if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have experienced the unbelievable kindness of strangers who put a group of tired, scared teenagers up for the night, top to tail in a clean, dry barn, no questions asked. I also wouldn’t have been utterly dumbstruck by our sherpas’ uncomplaining attention to detail. Heading back up the mountain at first light, they cleared up our shattered camp, even going so far as to pick up individual playing cards that had been scattered around the mountain, and bringing them back down again to dry out on the tin roofs of the village houses.

If I’d never travelled, I wouldn’t have looked out of the window of an Italian train and seen the sun setting over the Adriatic, turning the sea glowing turquoise as we raced along beside, so close that we were almost in the water. I’d also never have experienced the hilarious agonies of sharing a six-berth couchette cabin with strangers who snore fit to wake the dead, or with my father chomping on raw garlic to ease toothache and almost suffocating the rest of us with the stink in the process.

If I’d never travelled I wouldn’t have been temporarily kidnapped by a Portuguese fisherman who propped me up on a bar and fed me black pudding, aged two. I wouldn’t have spent quarter of an hour, aged 6, tempting fate and kicking a scorpion around with a scuffed trainer toe, outside a bank while I waited with my brother for our mother to come out into the sunshine. I wouldn’t, either, have rescued that same brother from drowning when he, neglecting to remember that he didn’t know how to swim, threw himself with unadulterated glee into the deep end of the swimming pool, only to sink like the proverbial stone.

If I’d never travelled, I’d never have eaten deep-fried Mars bar on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, or su böreği and imam bayildi on a boat in the Turkish Mediterranean sea. I’d probably never even have heard of the sublime, artery-clogging deliciousness that is Puglian burrata. I’d certainly never have watched freshly-caught squid turning a bucket of water black as it was washed in a Portuguese fish market, or devoured raclette in Switzerland to keep out the cold after a day’s skiing.

Some of these experiences are unique, some are run-of-the-mill in terms of travel tales. However, what sets them apart from everyday life is that I’d never have experienced them in London. I haven’t had to travel far in some cases, but the mere act of being in a strange place, even one where they speak the same language as you do, makes everything that bit more interesting.

Still think you don’t want to travel? I don’t believe you.

Kate Bailward is a writer and professional maniac. She blogs at Driving Like a Maniac and writes for MNUI Travel Insurance. In her spare time she collects DVD box-sets (specifically, mine).

Images: Renzo Ferrante, pierofix and eole.