I’ve had a passport practically since I was born. It was one of the things my parents considered a priority, because they felt that a complete education most definitely had to include travel. It didn’t matter if we didn’t have money that year to go further than a camping trip in a neighbouring country, there was absolutely no year in my entire life that I did not get at least one new stamp in that passport and those that followed.
Travel, for me, is as necessary as breathing. To me, my passport has always held almost magical properties. I hated it when it had to be held or sent off for visa processing. I still do. I always feel a bit trapped, bereft and antsy, like someone’s stolen my car. Or, worse, locked me in a room and taken the key. Yes, I’m grateful for a passport and for the freedom, right and opportunity to travel and earn the means to travel.