Travel has been a hobby of ours since I "cured" myself of my fear of flying, I was watching a programme on Anne Proulx and writing That old ace in the hole and the countryside looked so amazing and vast and interesting that I knew I could get over my 20 odd year self imposed grounding and get onto a plane.
Over the last 10 years we have visited places we could have only dreamed of, seen sights I never imagined I would see toured countries and islands, hours spent on planes. All with Dunc, my husband of 26 years and sometimes with Al, my son.
Dunc was a road warrior of the "hard as nails" variety, thought nothing of driving to the other end of the country for a day and still picking me up from parents evening on his way home. He caused a great deal of surprise at a FT do in Canary wharf when telling someone he was on his way home from Aberdeen and had called to collect me, when asked which flight he was on he revealed he had just driven from Aberdeen, completely alien to a FT audience.
Life turned on a sixpence on the 8th of March 2013 with the diagnosis of Dunc's brain tumour, a vicious, nasty beast that robbed him of his ability to drive, and fly in an instant..Dunc fought the tumour with everything he and the medical profession could but the beast was too strong and he battled it to a draw a year and 2 days after diagnosis.
It is up to me now to live life for the both of us, to travel to all the places we should have gone to, to have all the experiences we should have had as a couple. Life as a solo traveler isnt going to be easy I know but unless I get out there I will end up with just me and the cats sat at home watching the latest on who killed Lucy Beale for entertainment.
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