This is what I travel for. To find the fur coat wardrobe that contains the doorway to another Narnia. To find the secret mountain pass leading into Shangri La. To find the Lost World inside the Great Hole of Venezuela. To go on releasing the fly from the amber, releasing the woolly mammoth from the ice. Sparking dry tinder back to erotic flame. I am not losing my appetite for travel; on the contrary I am becoming more addicted to it than ever, and my debts are climbing faster than ever.