This world is magnificent, beautiful, awe-inspiring and lots of other things David Attenborough has told me. It is the only one we have, and we only have a short amount of time to actually see the bloody thing.
So why is it there are some places in the world I just don’t really care about going to? I don’t mean like Somalia or Zimbabwe or Scotland or any other failed state situation – I mean genuine, proper, normal countries where you’re only quite likely to get knifed up. There are real places in the world that I just don’t want to go to. I have no interest in them.
This makes no sense. They are places I have never been – never seen. If I go about things in the way I intend to, I will never actually see them. So how can I be content in this attitude? Is it a damning indictment of me as a person? Does it betray my small town roots to the world at large (or just most of it, as the case may be)?
You know what – it probably does. I am a small minded gibbon of a man, and while I wouldn’t say no to a free trip there, I’m not going out of my way to take a trip to the likes of Russia, China, the Caribbean in general, Austria (that one’s for you, Anna), Greenland or Wales.
I do kind of want to go to North Korea though.