You Don’t Have to Travel Far to See the World

Whenever I arrive in a new city or town, the first thing I do after setting down my luggage is head straight out to wander the streets. I don’t really think about getting lost, which is essentially what I’m doing. In an unfamiliar place, I simply walk and walk some more, letting instinct dictate my path. I might arrive at a junction, look left and right, and then decide. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve often reached dead ends and had to retrace my steps – something I’m not fond of – before taking an alternative way. But after a while, the city becomes my friend. I start to recognise areas I’ve already passed through, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, the dots connect, and suddenly it feels like I’ve known the place forever.

There’s so much joy in letting fate guide my steps. I often discover things I would never have stumbled across had I stuck to a more conventional route. It’s also a wonderful way to see how the inner workings of a place unfold. I rely very little on technology, preferring to travel on my own wits. That said, these days I do love nothing more than using my phone for photos and videos.

When I was younger, I lived in London. My home life wasn’t so great. I was grounded a lot and spent most of my free time in my room. I’d stare out at the woods opposite, noticing every movement in the branches and the different colours of the cars passing on the road below. When I did get out, I wanted to be as far away as possible, walking for miles and discovering areas free from oppression. Even in the city, I found places that offered escape and moments of absolute solace.

To this day, I still uncover treasures in my own hometown that I never knew existed, simply by getting out and getting lost. There are parks and gardens, fields and forests, canals, lakes and rivers, roads and streets that are new to my eyes and seem to appear from nowhere with every mile I travel. As I walk, I take time to absorb everything around me: the colours of the seasons, the movement of wildlife in the trees, and – if I pause for long enough – a whole world unfolds that I might never have noticed had I not been looking.

I’m very lucky to live within a five-minute walk of the English Channel. On sunny days the sea is a spectacular blue, on overcast days, a deep emerald. The winter months are my favourite, when the sunrise plays with the clouds to create magnificent skies, often transforming the water into a fiery red.

But it’s often not what I expect. The world around me is an enchanting theatre, an accompaniment to my thoughts, a way to untangle knots and clear the space to think freely, readjust, and breathe without restriction. I will always want to experience new things. Life feels a little longer when you collect memories, however small, to bookmark your days.

I’m fortunate to have reached a place in life where nobody tells me what I can do, where I can go, or most importantly, who I’m supposed to be. The world outside my window is my playground. Anytime I want to run, feel the breeze on my skin, and absorb the colours, shapes, and sounds that nature freely offers, I’ll gladly accept it as though I’ve won the lottery.