There are not many places left on our Mother Earth to explore. Brave men and women have climbed all the tops already, digged deep into every valley, sailed the oceans, searched the caves. And if there had been anything left, I wouldn´t be brave enough to be the explorer anyway.
I have hundreds of National Geographic Magazines, I have piles of books on maps, I love to let my index finger travel over my globe collection, and I have the most wonderful collection of travel litterature, with female travelers as my niche. Ask me a question and I have the answer.
I love to travel. I mean, I really love it! To see new places, to explore, to make plans, to wait in the airports, to read on planes, to meet new people along the tracks, to add a new country to my list.
And I don´t mind that there are no white areas on the maps anymore. I am no David Livingstone, no Albert Schweitzer, no Freya Stark. I like to go where the map is already drawn.
I do have one exception though. Kind of.
I love to explore our neighborhood. The countryside, the hills, the lakes and the mountains behind our house.
I pack a backpack......
I grab my fellow explorer´s hand.....
And off we go!
When we are back home, we spread the map out on the dining table and trace our route.