Confession time

I'm here because of Leonardo di Caprio. Let me explain. When I was young, I don't think it ever occurred to me to jet off to see other landscapes and cultures. My obsessions, as far back as I can remember them, run as follows: car transporters, James Galway, Lego, maps, aeroplanes, Bananarama, playing golf, designing golf courses, designing airports, REM, Twin Peaks, playing guitar, SW London, running and, currently, Texas Hold 'Em. It seems at some point I was innoculated against the travel bug, as evinced by my infuriating habit (until recently) of turning first to the Dangers and Annoyances section of each Lonely Planet guide I acquired.

Since about 2002 though, one man has been cajoling and entreating me in equal measure to get out there and see the world. Leo. More particularly, him in The Beach, a love of which, though I have tried, I cannot give up. Even more particularly the end scene where, to strains of Dario G's Voices (Acoustic Version) he receives by an email a photo of his adventure in Thailand. He squirms in his seat with excitement, and checks to see no one else in the Internet cafe is prying on his reminiscences. It never failed to raise my heart rate, stir the cauldron at the base of my gut, and get me murmuring, "I will".

I believe the story is based loosely on real events, back in the early days of backpacking when there were dozens of deserted beaches in exotic parts of Asia just waiting to be "discovered" and claimed with a ceremonial raising into the night sky of marijuana smoke and chords of Redemption Song. The events in the film can't happen any more, it is said, but that's not the point. It works better as pure fantasy, and as sustenance for one half of the doublethink that travellers succumb to. A minature anthropic principle reduces the appreciation of your travels because, by virtue of where you are, you are surrounded by people who either are doing, have done, or will do all of the amazing things you are doing, probably cheaper, with better photos. Cue Leo and Dario G, and the remembrance that it is an adventure, your adventure, something you said you would do, saved for, planned, and are doing. No matter how unspecial you feel as you park your converted Toyota Previa next to all the other ones, you tell yourself that it's not every day you drive 200km along a Pacific highway, eat a steak and cheese pie from a clapperboard roadside store, see a Kiwi, and plan whether you will walk or fly onto a glacier tomorrow.

These musings were prompted by an unfinished conversation Dan and I had in Vietnam. So, for completeness, Dan, here are my five favourites (at 31/3/09):

Films: The Beach, Closer, The Seventh Seal, Ghostbusters, and Apocalypse Now

Albums: Highway 61 revisited, University, Meat is murder, A grand don't come for free (Wiki not really painting a pretty picture here, might have to do something about that), Parklife