My mum loved travel.
She sailed up the Amazon. Twice.
She took a cruise from Kerala to Bali via Singapore and Phuket. She took the train to Denali in Alaska, and transversed the Panama canal.
She renewed her wedding vows to my Dad in the South Pacific.
And when I, as a scared girl just out of Uni, hesitantly mentioned I was thinking of going on my first solo trip to Europe, her response was an immediate and emphatic: "Do it!"
Her encouragement was a big part of forming my love of travel. She encouraged me to explore widely and fearlessly, even when she was scared for me. Even when that love of travel took me to live on the other side of the world.
She and Dad were still, in their late 70s, planning new trips.
Then Covid hit, and all that stopped. She and Dad cancelled all their upcoming planned trips as travel restrictions spread around the world. She wouldn't let me visit for 2 years, fearful of exposure. And sometime, during that interminable and nervous wait for the world to feel safe again, a small cell deep inside her started dividing incorrectly.
She started showing serious symptoms in late summer, was diagnosed in September, and died 3 weeks ago.
There's nothing really I wanted to say, except to share what an inspiration she was to me.
So thank you, mummy, for giving me the gift of travel. I'm really going to miss you.
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| In the Singapore Botanical Gardens |
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| In Copenhagen |
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| At the Grand Canyon |
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| With some strange girl in Paris |
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