After just having an (unusually early for saturday) coffee (and gourmet jelly bean factory) breakfast with a friend down the road, we got onto the subject of saving then travelling then coming home and finding you want nothing more to be a penniless traveller again rocking up in a new place everyday.

It's so true-most people I met along my travels and stayed in touch with after the travelling was done have said the same...

"If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss...

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"

This is the best thing in life-save up, go travelling, blow your cash, arrive back penniless. Repeat process until dead. Travelling is the new motgage and kids....except, unlike the model "man, my son", in Kipling's poem, I do moan quite a lot (you are now reading the physical evidence of this...)

Sorry, Rudyard, I'm ALMOST a perfect man, but then blogging came along and provided a vehicle for "breathing words of my loss......" We all gotta moan, my son. We all gotta moan.