Some people work in offices and drive nice cars and have a really well developed bank account. Other people work in dusty old theatres and have a really well developed sense of humour.
Which comes in handy. Living out of a suitcase is the romantic’s dream, right up until you have nowhere to wash to your socks and can’t remember which language you’re supposed to be saying vegetarian in. My job often grabs me by the scruff of the neck and plonks me down in strange and exciting places. Sometimes in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes next to an ice cream shop on the beach. You can’t always win.
My name is Abby, and exploring the world is my favourite thing to do. Because whether it’s work induced or self-inflicted, the Colosseum, the Cape of Good Hope, or That-Place-in-Mozambique-That-Nobody-Can-Remember, travel is always an incredible adventure. And I’ve found that if you can’t find something to make you wonder, marvel, giggle, or get the goosebumps, chances are you aren’t looking hard enough.
As Aristotle himself once said: if you’re going to refuse to get a grown-up job and wander about like a nomad, you’d better come back with some damn good stories.
Or something like that.