The more I travel, the more my passion grows for distant cities and journeys that carry me to places of wonder and knowledge. Yet the matter takes a different turn in my mind whenever I think deeply about the sheer density of the unknown that lies behind every distance. The moment a plane lifts you toward an unfamiliar destination, and the moment a new city opens its doors and reveals information and secrets you knew nothing about, a question stirs inside you and lingers, restless, in your heart:
How many things do I not know? And how many journeys and days would I need to acquaint myself with all these enticing mysteries? That obsession will drive you to books, encyclopaedias, news channels, films, documentary programmes and websites, all in search of answers to: who, where, when, how many, what, and why did that happen — or why did that matter, or that event, come to be?
In a small shop or bakery whose owner sells freshly baked bread straight from the oven, you are the first customer through the door. The shopkeeper greets you with that ready-made smile vendors typically reserve for strangers, wrapped around the question: