I once had a colleague who, in retrospective, I wish I’d known better. He left the company before I could, proof once again that the only outcome of too many postponements is missing out on things. But I digress; I had a colleague, once, and that guy had an uncanny ability to ask the right questions. One day over lunch he asked one of those: “if you needn’t worry about money, what job would you do?”.
There was only one answer, for there is only one dream job that, even in my dreams, I know could never pay enough: travel writing.
Now, I think I’m getting close to that. Not to getting paid – oh no, not that – but to making a job out of it. The hours poured into this nascent project, this veritable labour of love, are rivalling those invested – or wasted, I should say – in the dayjob, the one that pays the bill. I’ll be back with more, but in the meantime, here’s a teaser to end this post.