INTRODUCING MY NEW TRAVEL BLOG – RAMBLE ON
This is post 4 in 
HOW I BECAME A TRAVEL WRITER
I stood, staring at the exit sign for a long time. Perhaps too long. I had seen it before, from a distance. It had always been there. Well that is my understanding anyway. As long as the town had been there, that is. I don't suppose the sign existed before the town. Quite a ridiculous notion, really. I don't always grasp things, but I am quite certain I have a firm comprehension of the timeline of how things would have gone down. First the town was established. Then when it's boundaries were created they erected a sign to indicate that should one venture beyond that point they would in fact be leaving the town. My town. The only one I have ever known. Town first, sign second.
Me leaving – finally – third. I had always planned on venturing out beyond the municipal boundaries and travelling through the vast beyonds. In fact it had been on my to do list for some time. Several years in fact. All part of grand plan to become a travel blogger.
"To become a travel blogger one has to travel," my careers adviser had once told me. It sounded like good advice. I decide to put travel on my to do list. I have my careers adviser to thank for that.
"And what about a blog? Should I have one of those?" I had asked her.
"That would be very beneficial I would think."
I thought about her advice. Weighed up my options about what it meant for my future, and how best to tackle the requirements of starting a travel blog. I only had one important question left to ask her.
"What's a blog?"
But all of that seems like a distant dream. A relic from the past. Here I was, facing the exit. Starting my first real travel adventure. I noticed a pulsing energy rising up through me. Like an emotional tidal wave, generated from the depths of my being, cascading through my very core. I was leaving, finally. The decision had been made, plans formulated, and actions put into place. It was a little overwhelming. I felt the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I put it down to nerves and apprehension. Then I remembered something I had read in my research. Worry replaced the nerves. Fear tackled the apprehension. Was I in fact actually experiencing my first bout of travel sickness?
And just as I faced the exit. So close, yet so far. Surely I can do it? Surely I can go on, pass the threshold and make good on my plans? The sign loomed large above me. Menacing me with it's declaration that I was now leaving the town behind. I was now withdrawing myself from it's ability to nurture and safely harbour me. Entrusting myself to the unpredictability of what could lie beyond.
I looked at it one last time. In big letters staring at me. Spelling it out. BYGONE pop 12,833. I had been reliably informed that it was a strange name for a town. I have been unable to corroborate that information, never having visited any other towns, nor had the chance to peruse the names of those as yet still unvisited towns. It is, however, on my to do list.
And what of that population figure? Will someone have to come out and adjust it, now that I am leaving? Will a sensor pick up the weight of my step as I venture forth and leave my birth place behind? So many questions, so few answers. I was eager to depart, and learn the ways of the world. To leave BYGONE and make my mark on the world. Perhaps I am meant to adjust the number myself? I decided to start by adjusting the population figure and making my mark on the sign. Sign first, world second. Baby steps.
And I left BYGONE, with the sign now reading pop 12,832. Well actually the last 2 looked more like a 7, having messed it up a bit and trying to fix it. Just my luck – I leave and the population increases. I stepped over the line, past the sign, chose not to look back, and breathed in the air. Took in a big lung full of freedom. It was at that point that another vital question struck me – where, exactly, am I going?
This is post 4 in
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Links to earlier works
Notes From An Amateur Writer Collection