"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages."
-- William Shakespeare, As You Like It


"You are without a doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of"
"But you've heard of me"

- Pirates of the Caribbean






Travelling is something of a complicated subject. Like a lot of good things in life, such as drinking, gambling, hedonism and films starring Bruce Cambell, it's something you come to for many different reasons.

The hostel we're staying at now has around a hundred guests, and like I said before it's more of a communal house than an actual hostel; the distinction is vague, but based pretty much around the fact that 90% of folks have at least one job, denying the place that relaxed, bum like quality that is synonymous with European and Asian hostels.

As you find yourself settling into a routine of work and play, you can't help but wonder about the little things, the things that started it all, and, above all, why you're happily working your ass off for minimum wage instead of sitting in a cushy job in your home town for a lot more money than you deserve.

But then travel is complicated.

I had a theory, a while back, that there are three types of travellers. There are those that travel to learn (people, places, culture, history, experience), there are those that travel to forget something, and there are those that travel to find something.

It's possible of course to travel to learn and in doing so forget, or travel to forget and find something wholly different. I feel the distinction is there though, just like in the Elvis Beatles debate; you can like both, but you only really ARE one.

When it comes down to it though, whether you're looking around some temple or museum, or whether you're working in a poor attempt at an Irish themed pub, it really is all good. You don't meet many unhappy travellers. You meet a lot of knackered ones, having finished one job only to have a couple of hours rest before starting another one (like me for the last two days), but even they're not really unhappy.

It's all good. And it's good for all the simple reasons - you're not at home, you're not stuck anywhere, you don't have the walls closing in and the options dwindling. You still live your life from a medium sized bag, and you have no mortgage, credit or direct debits. It's good because when all is said and done, nothing really matters, and that just makes everything matter a whole lot more.

This isn't a tirade against people who don't travel, so forgive me if I sound like one of those travellers that we all hate (you know the sort - for them owning a Lonely Planet is 'selling out' and to really experience a place you have to spend at least three months there, invariably sat on the sofa in a hostel watching poorly pirated DVDs). All it is is a choice. One of many.

The world's a small place. Having already bumped into an old school friend on the Kho San Road, and met up with two friends from our little village back home, things just get more and more coincidental.

The other night we went out for drinks with Jodie Berry, who lived up the road from us as we were growing up. Her sister lives in Perth and has just had a baby, so her parents are in town too. Tonight we're going out for a drink with the whole family - I don't think I've seen her parents since I was ten.

Then there's my Irish family, 35 of them, living in Perth and yet never having the mild pleasure of meeting me. This should be addressed on Sunday.

The other night I got back from work and had a drink at the hostel, as is my style. I got chatting to a Scottish girl who was staying in the hostel for just one night. When I told her about our trip around the world without flying (dropping this into conversation is always a good thing) she responded with "Oh! I think I've heard of you".

Obviously I've been waiting my entire life for someone to say those words to me. It turns out she had been staying in the hostel in Melbourne that Rick (friend from back home) is working at, and he mentioned us in passing.

Still though..... she had heard of us. It is nice to be doing something unique enough to be picked out of an random continent by virtue of only a synopsis.

We're still not sure what the plan is. We're heading to Melbourne, although now things are pretty good work wise so we're not sure when we'll get there. We've got a lot of friends either in Melbourne or heading towards it, which is nice.

So there we have it. All that remains is for me to ponder which kind of traveller I am myself.

I'm pretty sure I'm travelling to forget.

Forget what?

I've forgotten.