Life on the ocean waves has been greatly enhanced by John Julius Norwich’s anthology ‘A Taste For Travel.’ His introduction begins:
‘There’s no doubt about it: the easier it becomes to travel, the harder it is to be a traveller. Half a century ago, any young Englishman prepared to venture beyond the shores of Western Europe could claim to the title; patience, resourcefulness, robustness of digestion were the only qualities he needed. A year or two later he would could return, the pride of his family, the envy of his friends: a trail-blazer. Alas, those days are over.’
Alas perhaps, for some. This ‘traveller’, not worthy of the name, is enjoying hugely reading of the adventures and exploits of those of the past in the comfort of my suite in Seabourn’s ‘Ovation’ moored in Syracusa’s harbour. Soon I must struggle to make the decision, ‘In which of the ship’s restaurants will I choose to dine?’
The sky is blue, the waters of the Mediterranean clear, the company enjoyable and I have managed to paint a watercolour or two. At least I share that occupation with some of the travellers of the past.