I am not sure where my passion for travel comes from. ¬†As a child of the late 70’s and 80’s I like many spent all my holidays in the UK. The taste of tinned potatoes and the smell of a chemical toilet made up the majority of my holiday memories, all part of the fun of caravans! My grandparents on my mothers side seemed to take these amazing holidays and came back with tales of foreign lands. I remember once going to the airport to pick them up, from Egypt i think, and seeing all the excited faces i realised just how special travel is.

Fast forward to my early teens and I got my first taste of foreign land…..a day trip to Calais! You could walk on the ferry at Dover for a pound, and a short time later you were mixing it with our French cousins, looking for the man in a stripey jumper with onions round his neck!

That was it, that was the moment when i realised that not only was the world not flat, but it was also very different outside my glorious country, and so my desire to travel grew.

It would be a few more years before i ventured on to foreign lands again, this time an overnight ferry to Sweden……yes you heard me right, Sweden, and i was as sick as a dog. The sea was so rough i just remember demanding that the bloke steering the ship stop immediately, as I’d had enough.

Fortunately this did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for travel and in 1994 I took the plunge and flew to Jamaica. No half measures for me, go big, or go home. I loved it, from the first ever flight in a big plane to the food, the weather, the people and the view. The rest they say is history.