On that tingling feeling
For a few days I’ve been hiding a secret. One that’s been bubbling and frothing away in the pit of my stomach – erupting every once in a while in a gleeful little giggle. For someone who supposedly a ‘travel writer’ that is probably very uncool reaction, but I can’t help being super excited.
I’m going to Switzerland! It’s going to be my first ever junket, when I travel with a whole bunch of other journos and follow a fixed itinerary, and it’ll be fun how I adapt to that. I like pretend I’m a complete maverick when I’m traveling, doing whatever whim strikes me at the moment, so this should be interesting.
But, more importantly, I’m going to be setting foot on European soil after 15 years. The first time was when I was 11, and my father took the family to Italy for a month. I was quite useless little traveler then, I think. I ate nothing of the amazing Italian cuisine or the vast quantities of sea food available. If memory serves correctly, which it unfortunately does, I think I survived on a diet of magherita pizzas and bananas. The day we came back, I sat in the verandah and tucked into paranthas my neighbour had made while my parents were still unlocking the house.
Of course it’s been a long time since then. And from being the person who found the one sardarji who made paranthas in the largest open-air seafood market in Singapore, I’ve now become the person who will experiment with all sorts of food. (Remember my tales of the hotpot in China?)
Even so, there are many things I’m still puzzling my mind over. How much money to carry with me, if withdrawing on my card from an ATM there will mean too many extra charges, and if I should buy my train pass in advance.
So if any of you have any cracking bits of advise for me, do tell. And I promise to come back with a bagful of interesting stories for you.