For my final cheat, from the future (ie exactly four years later, on the day when I have taken my first sea swim of the summer) here is the end of the alphabet list, started so very long ago (but points, please, for being so conscientious/anal about completing it).
T for 30,000 feet: We went decimal here in NZ way back in 1968, but there’s no way aeroplane cruising height would ever sound right in metres. And there’s also no way anything to do with flying has ever been ordinary for me, even when I was zipping all over the place, sometimes with trips back-to-back; and even when I was cramped in economy, in the middle seat, with big men hogging the arm rests each side - though, obviously, turning left or, better still, entering over a higher air bridge, to be wafted to my own personal space was infinitely preferable. But wherever my seat was located, gazing out of the window down 30,000ft to countries so far below, or even just the sea, or clouds, was a miracle I never tired of.
U for Ushuaia: As in, “Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it”. It’s a big category now, of odd places I’ve been sent on famils; and if you add in the ones I’d only vaguely heard of, and others I knew of but had never thought of visiting - well, that’s my entire travel-writing career, right there. And that, of course, is/was the joy of it. Easter Island, Antarctica, Iceland, Cape Cod, Galapagos, Shanghai, Rwanda, Portugal, Tiwi Islands, North Vietnam, Jaipur, Skye… so many wonderful destinations I would never have thought of visiting, wafted there and shown around, connecting, everything done for me - fabulous. What luck. I am so grateful.
V for Vienna: As in, never got there, sigh. Nor Tuscany, Neuschwanstein, Switzerland, Spain, and many other obvious places that you’d just assume any decent travel writer would have gone to. Mea culpa. Well, not really mine, but there you go. But I did tick off 60 countries, which is at least a satisfyingly round number.
W for WiFi: How wonderful that this now-indispensable part of daily life did become available wherever I went, for free! In the early days, though, it was rare, and SO expensive, and limited, and slow and unreliable, and often only to be found in a hotel’s lobby. Talk about primitive! But now it’s everywhere, even on planes, so there’s no excuse not to be in touch, not to file work, not to be able to find out anything… Hm, may you get what you want, eh? Classic curse.
X for X-ray: It’s astonishing to be able remember flying before X-rays were an unavoidable part of the process of boarding an aeroplane - but it wasn’t really that long ago. Unibomber ring a bell, anyone? And then of course 9/11 brought in the body scanner. It’s a chore, certainly, queuing with the hand luggage, and always annoying when people ahead of you don’t know the drill, or just forget. But as for setting off the scanner, for me - never. In compensation, though, I’m always picked out for the bag explosives sniffer. It happened so often that I asked once, why? And, as suspected, the sniffer person admitted it’s because I look amenable/accommodating/meek and unlikely to give them a hard time. Hijackers, take note.
Y for Yum: Food. In my day-to-day life it’s mostly just a tiresome necessity, nothing more than fuel - but on my hosted visits to so many countries it was an immensely important part of each day’s itinerary. Of course I was served some weird stuff - huhu grubs, green ants, coconut crab, guinea pig - but also fabulously delicious dishes, beautifully cooked and presented, with carefully-selected wines, all consumed with good company at the end of a colourful day. “My mouth is watering now” is a frequently-repeated sentence I’ve used here, writing about yet another chef’s triumph.Or even just Dat Dog’s loaded fries, in New Orleans.
Z for Zealand, as in New: Though I have met a few people on my travels who have never heard of my country, it’s very much less the case these days. We take pride in punching above our weight, and the world is better off for us in many ways - electric fence, disposable syringe, jogging, the flat white and pavlova (shut up, Aussies) and much, much more, big and small. We have certainly been discovered now, and have more nationalities living here than just about anywhere else. There are still only about 5 million of us, though, in a country with an area bigger than the UK. So we have it all: big cities, little towns, lots of empty space for exploring, and just about every sort of scenery you could name (Outback excepted), unspoilt and SO beautiful. I’ve travelled a lot (proof? You’re reading it) and I am deeply sorry that all that seems to have been brought to an end, through no fault of my own - but if I have to be stuck anywhere? New Zealand/Aotearoa is the place to be.
