So, here I am doing the thing that epitomises most people’s idea of the freedom of the single writer. Trundling about on leafy Suffolk lanes in my camper van, Hilda, on a Saturday afternoon with no need to be home for a couple of days, just the open road ahead of me. I’d performed some …
I don’t see myself as a particularly adventurous traveller. I’ve only ever been to European countries (and North America), didn’t have a gap year and am not one of the one in eight British people who has apparently seriously contemplated living abroad. However, I do see travel as representing freedom in a way — the …
When I tell people I have a camper van, they often go a bit misty eyed. “Ahh, a camper van”, they might say. “I’ve always wanted one of those”. I have realised that particular reaction is really about a fantasy of freedom. The freedom to just set off and not know where you’re going to …
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