There is an old saying that the journey is more important than the destination. We hear it so often that it risks becoming just another cliché. Yet every time I return from a trip, I find those words to be profoundly true. They cannot be understood from a quote or a book; they have to be experienced. My wife and I love travelling—by road, rail, air or sea. For us, travel has never been about ticking destinations off a list or collecting passport stamps. Nor is it about capturing photographs that eventually disappear into a digital archive. Those are pleasant souvenirs, but they are not the reason we travel. We travel to collect perspectives. The world is vast not merely because of its geography but because of the astonishing variety of ways in which people live, celebrate, cook, work and dream. Every journey reminds me that my way of looking at life is only one among billions. Every road travelled gently replaces certainty with curiosity. The mode of transport matters less than th...
Making sense of everyday moments