I travel alone – go where I want, do what I want – no drama, no nothing, just me and the world. Wanderlust came a bit late in life, early 30s or so (couldn’t afford it earlier what with student loans to pay). And here I am blogging and other miscellanea after almost 80 countries visited (many of them several times), including having lived in four. Along the way, often through painful experiences, I learned how to travel well, to focus on the here and now, and to wander about for a sense of being rather than rushing around doing stuff – queuing hours for a museum or art gallery is not my thing. I will map a meandering route to a landmark (La Sagrada Família in Barcelona, for example) and often not make it or take hours getting there because I am intrigued by a side-street, a vibe, or a cool cafe. I can chill for hours in a park listening to the wind in the trees or sit with a coffee in a piazza and watch the rhythm of life – everyone has a story, a life of triumphs and struggles, of fortune or misfortune, and so it goes . . .