Why EVERY granny should blow her pension backpacking around the world!
WHen it comes to breakfast, you won’t find me staring out of a rain-spattered window, nibbling toast or spooning cereal. I’m much more likely to be at a beach café sipping fresh juice, or at a roadside food shack, forking up noodles in a foreign city.
While many women my age are pottering through retirement and keeping busy with the grandchildren, I have chosen a completely different path.
At 72, I’m spending my twilight years travelling the world with nothing but a small backpack, laptop and camera.
You may think I’m crazy, but I’m single, I have my pension and I believe we can do incredible things once we realise the only boundaries are those we set ourselves.
In the past seven years, I have meandered through Asia, backpacked around central europe, across russia, Australia and the U. S., and done voluntary work in the Philippines, Cambodia and Thailand.
I spend precious weeks with my children and grandchildren each year — sometimes in summer and always around Christmas — but the rest of the time I’ll be travelling. I have been to more than 50 countries so far.
I grew up in essex in the Forties and Fifties, and there was little opportunity to stray far from our home in Southend- on-Sea. But when I was 19 my father took us to Spain on holiday. I fell in love with a Spaniard — and his country — and returned continually.
At 24, I married a Spanish businessman and eventually settled there. We had three children (Daniel, now 47; Maribel, 46; and Julian, 42) and I juggled motherhood with managing a hair salon. When my marriage ended after 12 years, I moved to the Canary Islands with my children and set up three salons there, later returning to Spain to work.
Any travelling I did during those years was hurried and run to a strict itinerary, with taxis from airport to hotel and back again. But in my late 40s, I impulsively flew to Bangkok with my youngest son (then 19) to join my sister who was backpacking, and I saw a side to travel that enchanted me.
The memories stayed and the hankering grew, but there were so many ‘what ifs’ to consider.
Then I read Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway, Susan Jeffers’ selfhelp book, and it changed everything. My travel bug grew. I flew to Bali with a girlfriend on a voyage of discovery, but when she started a relationship with a local man, she abandoned me.
I had to continue my holiday alone. I ate alone, went to the beach alone and explored alone and, to my surprise, I loved it.
Then, when I was 55, a relative kindly offered to help pay for me to go on a round-the-world trip. I was cautious in those days and booked an itinerary (through Trailfinders), flying to Bangkok, then overland to Malaysia and touring Australia before flying to Fiji, then the U.S. And I realised if I could do that on my own, I could do anything.
As soon as I got back, I started planning my next trip. By then both my parents had passed away and my children were happy and independent. There really was nothing to stop me.
I had a pension from all my years of work. It wasn’t a huge amount, but I soon discovered that you really don’t need much if you’re prepared to stay in dormitory rooms in hostels, get about by bus or train and eat like the locals.
Honestly, if you can afford the flight to Bangkok (usually about £600) and open your mind to the backpacker lifestyle, you can live on virtually nothing.
When I plan to visit somewhere new, I research a suitable hostel — somewhere that has had great reviews, not too party- oriented and no age restriction (some don’t take oldies). A bed in a shared dormitory room can cost about £5. Then I budget to eat in food halls or street markets where you rarely pay more than about 40p for a plate. I don’t drink or smoke, so my living costs are minimal.
Sometimes I save money by using overnight trains (you get to sleep on a proper bed), but if I like a place I may stay for weeks, then move on to the next with people I’ve met or on my own.
Budget travel makes me feel truly alive. I don’t hanker after airconditioning, white fluffy towels or room service. That’s just soulless.
My fellow travellers are an eclectic mix. On any given night I might be sharing a room with gap-year students, an author researching a book, mid- lifers or families travelling on the cheap with their children, and even grandparents!
I do make a few concessions to my age. I won’t travel overnight on a bus (it can be dangerous and it’s usually blooming uncomfortable). And I’ll always plan to arrive during the day, never at night.
Yes, I’ve had a few scares. I once rocked up at a gangster motel in Miami, where the doorman sidled up to me and hissed: ‘This is not a place you should stay’.
In Thailand I was transported off into the night on a ‘short cut’ by a corrupt (not Thai) tuk-tuk driver (I jumped out), and I have had to rebuff threatening advances in Kashmir. If something or someone doesn’t feel right, I get away fast.
I pack very light — whatever you need you can always buy — and I dress to suit the climate.
FORTUNATELY, I don’t have to worry too much about rebutting the advances of lotharios these days — but I’m never lonely.
I now have friends all over the world and I’m in constant contact with family and friends by email or Skype. My two eldest children live in Spain and my youngest is in the UK. They have four lovely children between them.
My youngest son is 100 per cent behind my nomadic lifestyle, but my eldest thinks I’m a little crazy and I suspect he thinks I should be a more conventional grandmother. However, I hope to inspire my grandchildren and, when they are old enough (they are three, nine, 14 and 15) I’ll happily take them with me.
My advice to anyone who asks is to ignore what your family say and get out there!
I have absolutely no plans to stop, or even soften up. I want this way of life to continue for ever.