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MANCHÁN MAGAN's tales of a travel addict

I’VE BEEN AWAITING their call for a long time now, much like a Catholic boy going out with a girl from the other side in Belfast would have awaited a call in the past. For me it was an environmental organisation rather than a paramilitary one. I knew they’d eventually come for me, demanding an explanation for my actions, my flagrant promotion of international travel and the environmental decimation it entails. How could I possibly defend myself against crimes against the ozone layer, against the propaganda campaign for ecological destruction that a travel column could be said to represent? I dreaded the call, not because I lacked a suitable reply, but because I wasn’t sure I could express what I wanted to say clearly enough.