Travelling Swift

Stories from a Single, White, Idiotic, Female, Traveller

About me, my ego and life

There is something overtly egotistical when writing a page about yourself, and publishing it. Trouble is what you see of yourself is not what others see. So the problem lies in trying to describe yourself as you would want to believe or as your friends would see. Ah well, who cares in the end anyway...how many of you are going to read this!

So I was born in the south of England in the smallest village ever, travelled to London when I was old enough, and earnt my money as a managment consultant. Never sure whether I was good at my job or not, left me with a desire to travel where I wouldn't have to prove myself on a daily basis.

Selling my house and all my wordly goods I left in November 2002. Lugging a rucksack stuffed with inappropriate goods, I hopped from country to country, continent to continent looking for something. Thing is I didn't know what I was looking for, and probably still don't.

Why am I always searching? Because I'm so sure that there must be something more worthwhile in this life. One day I'm going to wake up to the fact that everyday is worthwhile, and I've missed what there is to live for by searching for something that was never there.

Damn it!