You Know You’re A Travelwriter When…

You only pack two pairs of shoes. Practical granny-style shoes and one pair of sexy sandals to remind you that you’re a woman instead of an automaton.

Your bathroom at home has miniature-sized everything – shampoo, body lotion, soap.

You spend half an hour going through your dressing table at home trying to find the room service menu.

You speak in hushed tones when you walk down your passage at home.

You ask your housekeeper what else is on the menu for dinner.

You forget you have a car parked in the garage and phone for a taxi.

You dial 9 hoping to book an early wake-up call.

Every inch in your handbag is accounted for.

You go to the bookshop and head straight for the travel guides.

The rotator cuffs in your shoulder are stuffed from lugging heavy wheelie bags through airports.

Roam on / Roam off is no. 2 on the speed dial of your mobile phone.

The constant concern in your life is how many pages you have got left in your passport for foreign visa requirements.

You wear three watches – New York, London, Johannesburg.

Your wallet carries US Dollars, Egyptian Pounds, Euros and Thai Baht, but you have no Rands to pay the local car-guard.

You phone your friends and they say, “Isabella who? God, I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth!”

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