There is something strange about travelling.

You can cross a border in a couple of hours and suddenly notice things you stopped noticing years ago.

The way people speak.

The food they eat.

How they queue.

How they greet each other.

What they consider normal.

Even the way buildings look can make you realise that your own surroundings are not, in fact, the natural state of the universe.

They are simply the place you happen to know.

Familiarity is powerful

When we live somewhere for a long time, we stop seeing it properly.

We know which road to take.

We know where the supermarket is.

We know which bus is late.

We know which café has the good coffee.

The familiar becomes invisible.

Then we travel somewhere else and suddenly everything becomes interesting again.

A street sign.

A tiny shop.

A completely unfamiliar breakfast.

A conversation you only understand half of.

Even getting slightly lost can become an adventure.

At home, getting lost is annoying.

On holiday, it can be the best part of the day.

Travel doesn't have to be glamorous

There is a version of travel that is heavily photographed.

Beautiful hotels.

Infinity pools.

Perfect sunsets.

Cocktails overlooking the sea.

And that's lovely.

But it isn't the only kind of travel.

Sometimes travel is a cheap train ticket, a small suitcase and a room that is considerably less glamorous than the photographs suggested.

Sometimes it's getting on the wrong bus.

Sometimes it's eating something because you have absolutely no idea what it is.

Sometimes it's sitting in a station watching people hurry past.

Those moments can stay with us just as much as the spectacular ones.

Because travel isn't really about collecting impressive places.

It's about experiencing difference.

The person who comes home isn't quite the same

Even a short trip can disturb something in us.

We return home and notice our own life differently.

Perhaps we appreciate something we previously took for granted.

Perhaps we realise we don't like something as much as we thought.

Perhaps we discover that we want more adventure.

Or less.

Perhaps we realise that home really is home.

Or perhaps we begin wondering whether it still is.

That's the interesting thing.

Travel doesn't necessarily give us answers.

It gives us contrast.

And contrast is useful.

You can't always understand your own life from inside it.

Sometimes you need to step outside it for a little while.

You can travel without going far

And perhaps this is worth remembering when money, time or circumstances make long journeys impossible.

You can explore your own city.

Take a different route.

Visit a neighbourhood you've never seen.

Go into a museum you've walked past for years.

Eat something unfamiliar.

Talk to somebody you wouldn't normally talk to.

You can even travel through a book.

Or a film.

Or a conversation.

Curiosity doesn't require a passport.

Perhaps that is what travel ultimately gives us: permission to become curious again.

And curiosity has another useful effect.

It makes us question the assumptions we've been carrying around without noticing.

That can happen when we encounter another culture.

It can also happen when we encounter another version of ourselves.

Which leads somewhere much more personal.

Because changing your surroundings can be interesting.

But changing the way you see yourself can change everything.

That is the territory of mindset.