Born to travel ….

“Of all the books in the world, the best stories are found between the pages of a passport – Unknown.”  I think my love affair with travelling the world began when I was 06 months old. My father got an opportunity to travel to Ireland with my mother and me in tow. I was barely turning on my tummy and we headed to Ireland and England in the harsh winters. It was harsh because thanks to tradition my head full of curly hair was shaved off and a bald me went straight from the Madurai to Delhi to Ireland. Of course, I was too young to remember anything but a lot of stories told by dad and mom over drinks and photographs have been vivid enough for me to imagine myself as a bottle fed, sitting in the pram, chubby infant. I think the first four years of my life I was in and out of the country – travelling to Ireland, England and finally to Tasmania, Australia. 

My love affair with sailing also began in Ireland. My dad often mentions that we were sailing to Isle of Man in rough seas and while everyone was throwing up, I was enjoying the rocking and rolling. Of course, babies don’t feel seasick. Fast forward to 2004 and I was a 26 year old,  on board a ship with my husband, throwing up all over the place. But that’s for another day.

For some reason, every time the story of sailing on the Irish Sea comes up, I have this vivid picture of me sucking my thumb, lying in a basket!!! From Ireland, it was to England. We stayed at Lake District. I have boxes full of pictures of me in a pram in picturesque gardens during some picnics, of walking with my mother (who by the way was quite the fashion diva with a short bob, A-line skirts and pencil heels !!!) and surrounded by pigeons at Old Trafford. Of course, with dad being actively into cricket at the time it was only natural that I be baptised at a cricket stadium or on a cricket pitch!!

Australia – I remember a bit more of being here. My aunt, uncle and cousins had come visiting. I remember jumping on a trampoline kind of bed with my sister, my grandmother and the three of us going to the beach and making sand castles. My dad had his prized Toyota Falcon with his name on the side, which eventually my mother banged into the gas station while learning how to drive. My dad and me didn’t have any injuries though my mom broke six ribs. I did my pre-school in Australia, and I remember my dad making me jump across the fence. Yea, the school and our home shared the boundary wall.

After four years of hopping around, we came back in 1982. After that the travelling was in India- with parents to my dad’s favourite hill station, Mussorie. With my school friends to Shimla and Kasauli. I think that’s where my love affair with Shimla began. While in college to Nainital. After that to Lucknow, Jaipur, Agra, Sariska, Mashobra, Udaipur, Kanpur, Rishikesh, Dhanaulti, Kolkata, Mumbai, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Goa, Bhuwaneshwar, Konark, Puri, Chennai, Madurai, Bikaner, Ranthambore…. and this is just India. International adventures began after getting married to a sailor!!!!

To quote Ibn Battuta “Travelling – it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” Each place has my own stories, adventures, experiences and memories. And yet, there are many more miles to travel and places to see, before I sleep.