The strangely emotional ordeal of renewing a passport

There are less than six months left on my passport, so I know I need to get it renewed. Not least because there are destinations in the world where you need to have this amount of time still on it in order to travel. I wouldn't want to have to turn down a spontaneous trip over such a trivial matter. But there is a part of me that is putting it off.

I wonder if there isn't one last adventure left in this battered travel document? After all, my passport and I have had some good times in the last decade and I have the stamps to prove it. Somehow setting out with a shiny new passport, which is completely empty seems like a betrayal. I could be anyone with this new item - a novice who has never left the country before or even a spy!

Then there is the ordeal of sending it off. What if they don't send it back? It doesn't matter they might say, we'll send you a new one, they'll console. But this is my trusty companion and I have protected it from being stolen or misplaced in countries all across the world. Can I really trust the postal system and the passport office to keep it safe while out of my sight?

I love how the front cover has worn so that you can barely see the coat of arms and golden writing any more. Not because it has been treated badly - in fact it is still in pretty good condition considering the travelling life it has had - but through hours of sitting in a money belt and hidden in luggage.

Inside there are numerous stamps from passing through Costa Rican immigration; a robust visa featuring Cyrillic script for visiting Russia; and the entry stamp for getting into Turkey, which has recently been abolished. Each and every one of these items inside tells a story and evokes memories of border crossings and the excitement of arriving in a new country.

The official that welcomed me into Chile used a two-tone ink pad; the green stamp of Ukraine features a little train to show how I travelled; and I don't think you even get stamps for Croatia now that it is part of the European Union, though I have a few with the word Hrvatska on them.

It may seem overly sentimental to be so attached to a passport, but it is probably my most prized possession. I always know where it is - at home or away - and love leafing through its pages. But I must send it off and receive a replacement, retiring this document to the shelf along with my first ever passport, the corner cut off to show it is no longer in service.

Over time the pristine replacement will also become full, a bit worn and an old friend that shows the scars of adventure and who knows where it shall take me?

Journey to the End of the World.

So it's a rainy day here at the end of the world and I'm sitting in a small kiosk, using the internet for free, well not exactly for free, I just handed over a not-so-crisp five pound note for the owner to add to his immense currency collection. I am in Ushuaia - southernmost city in the world and it's beautiful. The town is surrounded by snowcapped mountains on all sides and our dormitory has a view straight down the Beagle Channel. It's a shame about the rain, but it's been fun sitting and talking to Roberto and being plied with coffee and dulce de leche.

Our journey here has been immense - travelling little by little overland from Buenos Aires, stopping off for a few days here and there, seeing different aspects of the country. I loved taking a trip in the Valdés Peninsular to see the wildlife - energetic sea lions hoisting themselves in and out of the water; lazy seals lounging on the rocks; and very cute penguins waddling about a beach. An afternoon spent on a deserted beach with a CouchSurfer, sheltered by chalk cliffs from the rain was also a real highlight, watching the cormorants nesting on a nearby cliff when swimming in the sea and a lone sea lion coming up close to say hello.

Getting to Tierra del Fuego had several complications - not least the fact that you have to cross out of Argentina into Chile and then back into Argentina again. What this means is four sets of border officials, much stamping of passports and much waiting around, but we made it in the end. We sat down in the no man's land between the countries and ate up our supplies of cheese, salami and dulce de leche - products which cannot be transported across the borders. We were joined by an Italian motorbiker who has been on the road for four years and sharing our little end of the world adventure with us.

The hassle was well worth it as we travelled through the national park, seeing the clear blue lakes with a backdrop of beautiful mountains. Much of the terrain we have seen in Argentina has been flat and quite desolate, but this is a treat for the eyes. It reminds me a lot of Scotland and the town itself seems quite Scandinavian. I always enjoy travelling towards a point and it feels like quite an accomplishment to be here in this beautiful place.

In The Beginning....

I have finally decided to bite the bullet and after much nagging, get a blog. I have been writing about my travels for years, but only sending my updates to a select group of people. Now, with a feeling of trepidation, I have decided to let my thoughts out into the wider world of the web.

There will not be a lot of activity for the next month or so, but the main reason I have set up this blog is in order to write about my adventures in Argentina and Chile. On 7th January I fly to Buenos Aires with Nina, the fabulous German girl I lived with in Cordoba, Spain this summer.

For now I am working in two pubs in the Newcastle area, doing as many hours as possible and squirreling away my wages, but I hope you'll follow me in my travels once they start up again.

Hasta pronto.