I found this little charmer of a book in my favourite op-shop. It's the sequel to Jackie Hartnell's first book "No Fixed Address", but you can't say in an op-shop, "Have you got the one before it?" You take what you find, and I'm happy enough with what I've found.
The blurb on the inside cover got me in: "Jackie Hartnell was born in the UK and emigrated to Australia when she was 22 because she was at a loose end, could do so for £10 and get a five-week cruise thrown in" and "Travelling alone for the most part, staying in hostels of varying standards and meeting a wide range of fellow explorers, Jackie confounds the expectations most of us have of post-retirement travel. With an engaging and accessible writing style, Jackie invites us along on the adventures of a sixty-plus-year-old woman travelling on the cheap - and enjoying every minute of it!"
For more than twenty years, I also had no fixed address. Or maybe I did, because I had a permanent post office box - Box 42, Duffy A.C.T. 2611 -, the contents of which an obliging postmaster cleared every couple of weeks to sent off in a fat jiffy bag to whichever corner of the world I was currently occupying. In return, I'd send him pretty postcards from far-flung places which he pinned to the backwall of his little post office.
I had my permanent address and he his regular dose of travel fever which these days I get from reading books like Jackie's little charmer.
