40-something solo tripster
It’s only recently that I’ve come to accept that ‘introvert’ isn’t actually a dirty word.
A few years ago saying it out loud would have felt akin to admitting I mainlined heroin for breakfast, or really liked watching reality TV.
But I’m out and proud. And now I’ve accepted it my world is a much better place. It’s helped me to understand who I am and why.
In my last post I gave you all the gory details about climbing Sydney Harbour Bridge with a broken toe.
I also made a passing reference to my love of structures that span.
Add these two prattlings to a conversation that I had recently with a friend and it got me thinking…
Bridges.
In this post I’d like to tell you about my all-time top three trips as a solo traveller.
When I refer to ‘trips’ I daresay you’d be inclined to think that I’m talking about journeys I’ve made. But you’d be wrong.
I actually mean falling over.
Specifically, falling over while travelling.
You know that age-old adage about it’s not a party until something gets broken? Well I have a similar solong saying – and that is, in terms of my travels, it’s not a trip without a trip.
Easter.
I don’t mind admitting that it’s never really sat very comfortably with me.
I’m not from a particularly religious family, despite the fact that my uncle was a man of the cloth.
To be fair I’m not even from a particularly family-friendly family.
When I look back at Easters from years gone by a few memories come to the fore.
