Well, on the face of it, no. I'll be caravanning for the foreseeable future, and that means mostly on the mainland of Great Britain. So England, Wales and Scotland. If I can afford the ferries, maybe I'll take in the Hebrides, Orkney, Shetland and even Ireland.
Ah, Ireland. I probably will need a passport to go to the Republic.
Then what about the Channel Islands, particularly Guernsey? Or the Isle of Man? None of them are part of the UK, and I'll surely need a passport.
I'm assuming that I'd fly to some of these places from Gatwick. That would be the least enjoyable part of the journey for me. To be frank, I don't yearn to fly again. I haven't flown anywhere for ten years, and I've grown unhappy about getting into a plane again. In fact I'm a bit nervous about it. But I suppose a short domestic flight would be bearable. Post-virus, of course.
But a long-haul flight? I haven't taken one of those since visiting New Zealand in 2007, thirteen years ago. I literally flew around the world, always going west. The first leg was London Heathrow to Los Angeles International. That was novel, and done in daytime with good ground visibility, so it was very interesting. But the night-time flight across the Pacific to Auckland was less enthralling. It was just too long. Coming home, another night-time flight to Hong Kong, even more monotonous. And finally a daytime flight all across Asia to Heathrow, but with cloud obscuring the entire time we were over Russia, though strangely not China, nor the home run over the Baltic and thence back to London.
It went smoothly, all of it, but I was glad to get down safely. I'd had quite enough of long-haul flying, even though it hadn't been too uncomfortable (we went Premium Economy, not Cattle Class). But it had quickly got boring, and something of an endurance test, and I hated the tedious security measures that had been imposed.
It went smoothly, all of it, but I was glad to get down safely. I'd had quite enough of long-haul flying, even though it hadn't been too uncomfortable (we went Premium Economy, not Cattle Class). But it had quickly got boring, and something of an endurance test, and I hated the tedious security measures that had been imposed.
So if ever I found enough cash, and plucked up enough courage, would I fly to anywhere distant again - somewhere that I'd definitely need a passport?
I'd seriously consider Canada. All bits except the frozen north. City-hopping mainly.
If I could go before my mid-seventies, and there were no insurmountable health issues, a return visit to New Zealand might be done. My step-daughter Adrienne is there.
Closer to home, Iceland.
Sweden and Scandinavia generally would be nice. To see where my ancestors lived.
I wouldn't ever want to become a habitual flyer because that would be bad for the planet. And besides the 2007 experience has stripped away any glamour that flying might have had for me. But I've identified a handful of major trips that could be made, and they all need travel ID. I'll be ambitious and try to fit them in. So come the autumn, it's a new blue British passport for Miss Melford.
