Today I met a young man who I assumed had travelled. He looked the type – a man who knew himself. He was relaxed, neither rich nor poor, and clearly happy in the company of others whoever they were.

We got talking. Our starting point was who was from where, and what what. He was a Londoner. Born in London. Schooled in London. Living in London. Working in London. Never going to leave London. It sounded as though his family had been stitched to the city for generations, and he loved it with a passion.

The conversation made me wonder – if you live in a big city full of the world, is there any need to travel? He seemed so rooted and at ease, and, as he said himself, one of the lucky ones because he fell out of school into a job he loved and hasn’t wanted to go anywhere since. So why travel? I looked at him and couldn’t think of a reason.

It was only right at the end of our chat that he told me he was about to go to the Far East for a holiday.

I was glad to hear he’d have that experience, but as I walked away into the strangely warm October day I wondered if his trip would unsettle him. I hoped it wouldn’t. Or, if it did, only in a good way.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023