We went to Adelaide yesterday to do some shopping. I didn’t take the camera so I have no photos to show. Probably if I had taken it the resulting photos would not have been of much interest to most of my readers anyway.
When we go shopping in Adelaide I try to squeeze in at least some time in a couple of favourite bookshops. I’m a sucker for spending time in bookshops and I have a few specialist areas in each shop where I tend to spend more time in than others.
One interesting area I often frequent is the travel section. So many places to go, so many interesting books about the journeys of others and so many maps. (I collect maps as a hobby.)
Yesterday I deliberately avoided the travel section. I have enough books and magazines to read already without adding to the several rather considerable piles awaiting my attention.
Besides that, when I look at travel books, atlasses and other maps I tend to get an uneasy feeling. Some people call it itchy feet. Others call it wanderlust. Catching the travel bug. Perhaps it is the call to adventure, of other places, of destinations not yet reached.
Perhaps it is time I went on a holiday somewhere.
No – I haven’t got time – I’m too busy reading the three books I bought in another section.