Travelling became a passion and way of life for me. In Amsterdam, I bought an old British 1956 Bedford Duple Coach with 41 seats and a gas engine. Competing with Magic Bus, I made my living in Europe hauling around all those wandering ‘baby boomers’. My bus was called the ‘Blue Goose’ and somehow, with dubious credentials, it flew a new culture of travelling hippies from Amsterdam to Spain, Morocco and Greece in the early 1970’s.

Over the years I had the great fortune to ride a ‘banana boat’ up the equatorial backwaters of southern India; participate in Afghanistan’s tough national sport called Buzkashi, where fierce horsemen battle each other to deposit a headless goat carcass at the opposing end of a immense field; experience the bizarre, drug underworld in Kandahar; spend 4 days in and out of consciousness with high fever in a dusty hotel in Kabul; visit an oasis in the Sahara; travel 3rd class rail all over India; get caught in a huge, deadly earthquake in Gediz, Turkey; witness an attempted coup d’état in Athens; live in cliff caves in southern Morocco where the Atlantic meets the desert; spend 3 days in a tiny village high in the Atlas mountains attending an amazingly beautiful Berber wedding. The list goes on...