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When I was 21, I read On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t an easy read. The writing rushes along, the story wanders, and I had to keep going back over pages. But something in it stayed with me long after I closed the book.
It opened my eyes to how big the world is and how much there is to see. Kerouac’s characters were wild, much wilder than I would ever be! But I realised I didn’t have to travel or be like them. I could do it in my own way, with curiosity, a good sense of direction and a love of meeting people.
That feeling never left me. It has taken me to Japan, to Mexico and to other corners of the world, where I’ve learned about different cultures, traditions and beliefs. Every place taught me something new, and every person I met made the world feel a little smaller and a lot friendlier.
Looking back, I think the books that change us are rarely the easy ones. On the Road asked me to slow down, push through and think about the kind of life I wanted. I didn’t answer that question at 21, but it set me on the road to finding out, and I’m still grateful for it.
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