Back at home, I groan when sunlight streams onto my bed - Time to go to work!
But in Namibia, I hiked up Dune 45 at dawn...no, way before dawn, to wait and gape in awe at the same sunrise.

In my country, there are only two brands of cola that I can normally choose from.
But in Peru, an Andean mama, in her multi-layered Altiplano skirt and bowler hat, has a third choice - Inca Kola.

In my entire life, I have only seen a handful of shooting stars.
But a Bedouin boy, half my age, sleeping under the stars in the Petra mountains, would have already seen hundreds. I myself saw three in an hour and officially doubled my life-time shooting-stars count.

For a swim, I fuss around with shampoo, sun-block lotion and lug all the stuff to the pool near my apartment.
But in Egypt, fellaheen youths simply jump into the nearby multi-purpose Nile River to cool down from the 45°C heat.

Going to work in my country would be to squeeze into a crowded metro, surrounded by sombre faces and pressed shirts and getting transported to the office, safe and sound but still partially comatose.
But in Mexico, going to work for a mostachioed, sombrero-toting campesino, would be to sit in a packed, bumpy collectivo, with his box of clucking chickens by his feet, crossing himself several times for luck as the vehicle skirts round the treacherous bends down the Chiapan mountains.

That's why I travel: to see how rich and diverse the world is.

Feel free to email Trisha at swesn@inorbit.com. Also look to the left for links to all of Trisha's BootsnAll articles.