Ever since I can remember I had this severe case of "Fernweh", a longing to see the world. It must have been the influence of my father, who travelled regularly on business, when I was little, plus my parents took us on trips all around our country and to "friendly neighbouring countries" in the former Communist bloc.
I dreamed of all the interesting places there were to be seen and how I could possibly get there, to the other side of the iron curtain. I decided to become an interpreter, without really knowing what the job entails. I just thought I'd be accompanying the lucky ones who were able to travel, but didn't speak the language.
And then the Iron Curtain disappeared just as I was to start university. New perspectives opened up and so I purchased my first Interrail ticket and "surfed" around Europe. And for most of my twenties, Europe seemed to be large enough and I was travelling so much with my job that I didn't even contemplate farther destinations. When your job takes you out of the country or at least out of your hometown for more than 50% of the time, being at home feels like a luxury.
Yet travelling is like a drug to me and I needed to increase my dose. Europe was no longer enough. I wanted to see something more exciting, exotic, special. So I joined an organised tour that took me through China in three weeks. And I fell in love. It was inexplicable, but I felt a strange connection to the place, the history and the people. I knew I had to go back. Back to Asia, but to other countries, to see new places. And again I took an organised tour, but ended up regretting it, as we focused mostly on souvenir shopping.
And then I found it. A way to meet the locals, get to know something about their lives.
