Adventure, thwarted.

As a child, I dreamt that one day I would be a great adventurer. I would wander the globe exploring far away lands, discovering lost cities and rescuing people in trouble along the way. As an adult, I still have that dream, although these days the reality of being a great adventurer is invariably tempered by thoughts of money, traveller’s diarrhoea, and the troubled times we live in.

When I was six I had tried to live the dream. The night before the great escape I had watched a Japanese movie with my dad. I don’t recall the title or the narrative of this movie, all I remember was one scene where this guy gets on a giant steamer, and the next thing you know he’s sending postcards to this girl from all the places he has visited. I was inspired by that one scene. In my six year old mind, I had everything I needed to make a similar journey – I had $20 worth of change, there was plenty of food in the fridge for me to take, and my shiny new bike had a basket big enough to fit TurtleTurtle (my pet turtle), Mickey my bear and my favourite colouring book. It was not a matter of if, but when.

My chance came the next day when my grandma came to babysit. I knew she always took a nap after lunch, so when she had dozed off, I packed my Barbie backpack with gumboots and a jumper, and loaded the bike up with bread, some leftover chicken drumsticks, TurtleTurtle and Mickey. I had painstakingly copied out our address onto a piece of paper, intending to send my folks a postcard from each place I visited, letting them know I was fine and to please send some more chicken drumsticks in case I finished my current supply. I remember how exhilarating it felt to finally sit on that bike, the open road ahead of me, with just a few items to my name and no plans at all.

I got as far as the front gate of our residential compound. The security guard, a seventy-year old ex-policeman whom I always referred to as ‘Grandpa Security’ , asked where I was going all by myself. I told him about my plans to explore the world, how I was going to send a postcard to my parents, and how I would even send him one as well. He laughed kindly, and told me that there would be plenty of time for exploring the world when I get older, but for now, I had better go home before my folks got worried. I refused, he called my house to dob me in, and the next thing I knew, my shiny bicycle and I were heading back to the apartment in grandma's vice-like grip.

Now, twenty years later, I think back to the words of Grandpa Security and realise sadly just how wrong he was. Yes, as an adult you do have the means to travel, but you no longer have the ability to see the world as a child would. Growing up, you become aware of all the things that can hurt you, and that stranger danger is far more sinister then you could have ever imagined as a child. Adults are cautious, too aware of responsibilities, too full of preconceptions and opinions, to ever appreciate the world as a curious child would.

I realise this more then ever right now, as I make a list of all the things to take on my forthcoming trip with me. I had to laugh at just how many items on my packing list have the words ‘antibacterial’ in their name, not to mention items labelled ‘essential’ are things like immodium, travelan and toilet seat covers. I have travel insurance just in case, and an itinerary so I don’t waste my ‘precious’ time. Lonely Planet becomes the bible, and you wonder to yourself how travellers ever did it before guidebooks came around to tell them everything they needed to know. I have a checklist to ensure all the bills are paid, and I’m up to date with my vaccinations. In short, not much is left to chance. I think back nostalgically to my six year old self – that girl was ready to tackle the world without any of those things.