As a little girl growing up in rural Devon, I’d spend hours leafing through Dorling Kindersley atlases (this was before the internet). I’d pore over maps of mountain ranges and moon phases, Arctic tundras and Amazonian canopies. I was even fond of a guidebook on world flags — a weird flex for a seven-year-old. Every page took me somewhere new, and I was antsy to grow up and get there already.
I did grow up, but somewhere between studying and securing that all-important first job… then second… then third, I missed out on the places I’d dreamed of. It also turns out you have to pay to travel, which Kindersley had failed to mention.
