Transport Story Time

Sometimes I feel like I've accumulated too much stuff. I look around and think, I could get along without most of this stuff. I'll hire a skip, and dump almost all of my things in it. Then I could travel, motor around the country. Maybe I could take a bike trip through Scotland, or rent a motor car and go to London.

I've always wanted to travel anyway. Even from my early childhood, when my means of transport was my trusty bike, I dreamed of the purr of the car motor, the thrill of the open road. I'd close my eyes and pretend my bike was a motorcycle, zooming down the road, at least until I crashed into a tree and went sprawling. Riding your bike with your eyes closed is NOT recommended.

But I have always wanted to travel. I would like to go to Japan, and meditate in a Zen garden, and commune with the spirits in a Shinto shrine. I want to go to Egypt and visit the pyramids. I would like to sit sipping coffee in a Parisian cafe, or spend an afternoon biking through Italian wine country. Maybe I could finance my travels by waiting tables in a chic Spanish bistro, or washing dishes in some quaint Scandinavian cafe. I could give lessons in English to earn my keep. Maybe I could play my violin and people could throw donations of coins into a hat. And if I went travelling in the summer, I could probably sleep in a sleeping bag outside, under the stars, unless it was raining.

I definitely wouldn't stay in hotels unless I had no other option. I would try to find other places to sleep if I could. Maybe the loft of a farmer's barn, or perhaps some friendly villager would let me stay in their spare room. And if I found a place that was friendly, and that I liked well enough to stay, maybe I would just settle down for a while. I'd find a job, and a small flat, and then...

I'd start accumulating all this stuff all over again.

Maybe I'd better just stay home.