(NOTE: This isn't one of our typical travel blogs, but it is about a journey and arrival, of sorts...)

I am on the eve of becoming what in some circles is known as 'A Gentleman of a Certain Age'.

I have however always been of a certain age. I knew for certain, for example, when I turned 30, and later 40. I was certain also that I'd turned 50 when I turned 50. So certain in fact that I remember it as though it were ten years ago. Oops.

And now I am certain, yet completely baffled by, turning - can I really bring myself to say this out loud? - s... s.... 60.

Not that it's without its compensations. For example, as of 8 June I qualify for free travel on Mersyside Transport's buses. Yes, as a sexty-something I qualify for a Bus Pass. Unbelievable. This incenses Mersyside mate Stan, who feels that since I've spent something like 80 percent of my life outside the UK I shouldn't be eligible for free bus travel. However, Stan's issue is really with the policy that enables me to qualify, and not with me personally, I hope. Blame the system.

The French rail authority also acknowledges my advancing age by offering all sorts of discounts, including in First Class on the TGV. Merci beaucoup SNCF! There have to be some good sides to this growing older business.

Oh, and that's worth mentioning too: I refuse to agree that I am now officially 'old'. I am older, but I have become older with every birthday to date, and this is just another. I will treat it the same way I do every New Year's Eve and Day... in the end it's just another date on the calendar, and tomorrow is usually pretty much the same as today was. Becoming older and becoming old are two different things. It's only 'others' who mark the milestone in some way... governments, transport agencies, ignorants, etc.

On the train from Hong Kong's airport into town there are notices advising that younger people should give up their seats to 'grandparents'. This is outright discrimination because it assumes that anyone who's a grandparent is elderly and possibly infirm, or at least in need of a seat. Hang on, what about those in their 40s and 50s who are grandparents? I think they'd argue the point, possibly quite physically too. Chinese authorities, take note.

Put it this way: if any Boy Scout offers to help me across the road I will push him under a bus. (Oh relax, he'll be prepared. Plus I can escape on the bus... for free!)

Luckily, this getting older business has not been as arduous as perhaps it was in my parents' day. Then, it was expected that after 40 years in the same job you'd retire, with a pension, and take up gardening or golf. Or do nothing except rot away in an armchair because you accepted society's vision of what you had become: useless. Well sod that for a game of soldiers.

Ageing has, fortunately, become a lot more acceptable in mainstream society, not least in popular culture. (God, even saying 'popular culture' makes me sound ancient!)

Witness how, in the movies and on TV, it's become very acceptable to be folically challenged. Bruce Willis, Nicholas Cage, Sean Connery, Bob Hoskins (RIP), Patrick Stewart, Jason Statham... they've all become trademark baldies or crew-cut heroes and nobody thinks twice. When I was a boy, any man over about forty had short-back-and-sides haircuts. Now, guess what's back, guess what's acceptable?

And in the female stakes growing older gracefully is personified, endorsed and embraced unashamedly by the likes of Dame Helen Mirren, Meryl Streep, Dame Judy Dench, Maggie Smith, Anjelica Houston, Joanna Lumley... and let's not forget Her Majesty the Queen. Admittedly, none of them is bald, but you get the point.

Fashion too seems to have kept pace with us Baby Boomers. Take for example, middle-age spread, that dreaded spare tyre we seemingly magically get just about the same time we consider buying a sports car or a Harley. Well, bless me if the fashion industry didn't go and invent wearing your shirt untucked almost 20 years ago, thereby disguising the spread and making us trendy at the same time. Oh thank you fashion gurus, thank you!

Varicose veins. Eew. Those horrible blue bulging things that often affect your legs after 'middle age' but which can inflict embarrassment and pain at a much earlier age if you're unlucky. Time was you used to have to book in to have them 'stripped', and yes the very word sounds as awful as the process itself. I won't go into detail as I know some of you are squeamish. Suffuce to say that by the time I developed varicose veins two useful things had come along. In fashion, long shorts suddenly became trendy, thereby conveniently hiding one's leggy blemishes while elevating one into mainstream fashion society. Yuss!

The second and less ephemeral joy to arrive was sclerotherapy, basically a minimally-invasive injection regime that almost miraculously rids you of your varicose veins with no pain, no surgery and no stigma. Admittedly the surgical stocking you have to wear for six weeks is embarrassing, but can easily be hidden (choose winter for the procedure), and the daily compulsory one-hour walk for six weeks pays off in increased fitness and helps ensure the sclerotherapy works to best effect. Again, thank you, thank you, both Science and Fashion.

Performance is another thing that laughs in the face of age, whether in sport or entertainment. I'm not and never have been very sporty, so I can't reel off a list of advancing-age sporting heroes here, but musically age isn't stopping The Rolling Stones, Joe Cocker, David Bowie, Iggy Pop, or Gary Neuman. Fleetwood Mac are allegedly reforming, and, (sadly) Leonard Cohen is still going. Still... Going... ...

Sixty is the new 40. It's been nice in the UK to see so many mature newsreaders on the TV, and older presenters on other programmes. Brilliant. Hope for me yet.

In the comic stakes Billy Connolly, Ronnie Corbett. Sir David Jason, French and Saunders, to name just a few, have been going a long time, and Ab Fab let's face it, is based on growing old and ignoring it, to great acclaim and popularity (and probably relief, let's face it). I hear a Dad's Army feature film is in production, though the original cast is long gone.

But one aspect of ageing that isn't so easily resolved is something that governments are facing around the world, and especially in New Zealand. In a nutshell, in just a few years in New Zealand there will be a lot fewer people working at a taxable level than there are retired. Can you imagine a country where only one-third of the population is earning, while supporting the other two-thirds who are playing golf? Outrageous!! And yet it's coming. So, governments are 'taking imitiatives' like increasing the age of retirement. It used to be 60, then it became 62, now it's 65. You watch, soon it will be 70.

(The other issue is: is the government going to mandate for an increase in golf courses? Imagine government-run golf clubs: the fifth hole, par 3, 135 metres, plus 15%...)

This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as many of us Baby Boomers aren't ready or willing to give up yet, as Mick Jagger and I were agreeing the other day, at least notionally. Thanks to better healthcare we are all now living longer and healthier - we have more productive years left in us. But what governments need to do as well as moving the retirement goalposts is to make it totally illegal to discriminate against age in the workplace, and actively promote (maybe even reward) the employment of more people of A Certain Age.

Why? One word: Wisdom. A note here to the younger employers... don't forget that wisdom can come with age. Think back to all those cliched scenes where the Oriental master sits cross-legged in an inner chamber, deep in thought. He is the Wise One, and he is rarely under 80, yet he is revered by all those who are younger. He has learned the Lessons of Life. He can Reflect. He can Review, Surmise, Advise. Bring it on, Grasshopper.

I still get on with young people, and one of the pleasures of doing contract work and going into an organisation for a few weeks, say for example the Ministry of Education, is to be accepted as one of the ((inevitably young) team, and to be accepted for who you are and what you know, rather than spurned because of your age.

You're only as young as you feel. I feel 20-something, in my head. The mirror tells me otherwise, but then as long as I don't wear my glasses it doesn't matter; I can't see myself growing older. All I see is a misty reflection of Sean Connery staring back at me.

So where has becoming 60 got me? Well, I'm not ready to rot in an armchair yet, but I am proud of most of the things I've done in my life.

Indulge me while I list just a few, starting with my children Catherine and James. What parent wouldn't be proud of their progeny? I feel as though I helped bring them up in the best possible way, even if it did involve some tears at times, and now I can look at them and feel nothing but love and pride.

I've also been lucky enough to have met and married Liz, who continues to amaze me with her abilities, philosophies, her loving support and her policy analysis (comes in handy in all sorts of ways) and as a result of that union I now enjoy an expanded family with Yasmin and Karis, who have become my kids too, and who I am equally proud of. Liz and all the kids keep me young.

I have a solid group of quality friends. (There, you all got a mention!)

I have taught, been a radio announcer and newsreader, worked in TV as announcer, newsreader, interviewer, presenter, director, scriptwriter, producer, as well as in the non-broadcast video industry, have met and interviewed famous and infamous people (top of the list Dave Allen, Rowan Atkinson and Spike Milligan, bottom Lord Jeffrey Archer, Mel Smith, Griff Rhys-Jones and Arthur Lowe).

I ran my own PR and video business. I've worked with Prime Ministers and complete prats.

I've done journalism, written for magazines and newspapers, even published a couple of minor books back in the 80s.

I've done stand-up comedy and made people laugh, and produced a radio comedy series. I've bungy jumped, been para-gliding and white-water rafting, have been on a scientific research mission in the Pacific and stayed at the Mars Desert Research Station in the Utah desert. I've also stayed in youth hostels and at Huka Lodge. I've travelled a lot, but not enough.

I've been lucky to have had generally good health, and feel privileged to now be in a position to do this boating lark, despite some people thinking it's both crazy and selfish. Tough. There's a lot to be done yet.

And yes, I'm becoming grumpy about some things and don't care. Deal with it.

Some people have asked me if this boating episode is a mid-life crisis. I hope so. Because if it is I'm going to live till I'm 120. I wonder if they'll give me free air travel then?