I started travelling alone at the age of 60. I and my little hatchback, thermos and Esky in the boot, began the first of four road trips around the island of Tasmania, south of where I live in Melbourne, Australia. I planned to the 'nth' degree, but nothing could prepare me for getting stuck on the side of a mountain in the dark with my petrol tank on empty. Nothing could prepare me for being on my own in a caravan park on the west coast in the middle of a violent storm, or forgetting I get sea-sick and spending a boat cruise around Tasman Island with my head in a bucket. With my 'Tassie' experiences under my belt, I ventured overseas, across the Tasman Sea to New Zealand and, eventually, to the other side of the world - England. They say if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. He must have been rolling on the floor as I discovered that no matter how much research you do, at some stage you have to give up your set ideas and just wait to see what happens.