I could have been Marco Polo. I could have been Ibn Battuta. God knows it, I could even have been the Emperor Babur. Or at least followed in their glorious literary footsteps. But no - it is not to be. Yet another carefully written travel journal has gone AWOL. Deprived of my most recent set of memories, be they down the back of the luggage carousel, lost in someone else's suitcase, or simply swallowed by a customs official, I shall probably never know. The only good thing to come out of it is that I am finally convinced to go digital, abandoning humble pen and ink for a link to the world wide web.
The role of this blog, like my journals before it, is to keep track of the things that I see, the places I go, and the weird and wonderful things that I hear. It's an aide memoire when I'm writing an article or proposal months down the line, and also a chance to reflect on encounters. It won't be a simple travelogue (that would not only be dull but frightfully self-indulgent) but also a place to make notes on politics and society, economics and culture, and the ways they continually twist and shift. I have a very privileged existence, and I'll use this blog to share a little of what I learn along the way.
