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Heather had never been one for letting the grass grow under her feet, and since she lost Bruce, she was more determined than ever to make the most of every day she had left. Not for her sitting alone in the front room. Not for her weeding, watering and repotting. She was absolutely determined to continue to travel the world meeting new and different people.
She thought of herself in those terms. She was a traveller, not simply a tourist. She was razzed by her son, Jonathan, who thought the distinction minimal and bordering on the elitist. However, Heather had a point. She was the sort of traveller who took a cargo ship for the return leg, no matter that an aeroplane would be more comfortable and far quicker. She did not require slick and expensive hotels to provide her creature comforts.
For Heather, it is all in the journey.
2 comments:
Heather = Julie.
To some extent, yes. However, I have tossed in a couple of ideas that I have gathered from listening to friends.
A friend is travelling Ireland and Portugal next year then going to Italy because she can get a cheap berth on a ship that is re-porting to Buenos Aires for the summer. Now THAT is a traveller.
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