LIFE-CHANGING TRAVEL FROM FAR LEFT: From a dusk canoe ride on the Amazon, to rainforest walks, Jessie Burton relished her solo adventures
listening to your needs and no one else’s – bit by bit, you unfurl in directions you didn’t even know you had. Removed from the context of your everyday life, with no one to remind you of your usual flaws, you realise that you are capable of many things. You meet people you might not have spoken to, your confidence and imagination blossoms. The stress leaves your body and face. You feel
“WONDERFUL things happened when I woke up not KNOWING precisely what I was going to do” strangely more grounded, even though you have never before trod this land. The pleasure of witnessing these developments and recalling them afterwards is lasting and profound. I’m usually a neurotic sort of person, but in Suriname, I learned to go with the flow. Wonderful things happened when I woke up not knowing precisely what I was going to do. I said yes to a spontaneous canoe ride, upriver towards the Amazon basin. We paddled as the dusk above us broke out into stars. “Have you ever been in the rainforest at night?” my Surinamese acquaintance, Sirano, asked, as he turned the canoe left, moving up creek. Hanging vines brushed my face and the light was granular, the
“REPORTING ON THE REFUGEE CRISIS with my THREE-MONTHOLD BABY” trees above us high as a cathedral. “Out you get,” he said. “But I’m not wearing shoes,” I protested. Sirano laughed. “That’s the point.” So we walked barefoot through the Amazon, and Sirano told me how once he’d surprised a jaguar behind a tree. The next night, I sat with him and his incredible wife, Tessa, in their balmy city garden, eating the most delicious Chinese takeaway under a Caribbean moon. All because I’d said yes to a dusk canoe. There were low moments, of course, but I accepted them as part of the adventure, then rode them out. You can’t rely on anybody else to get you out of a slump. You learn to trust your gut. The only negative was one unpleasant conversation with a sleazy American at Bogota airport, but he’ll probably end up in a novel one day, so it’s all copy. I listened to uplifting playlists, and often wrote. I was alone, but never felt lonely. Strangers welcomed me in, kindly. I had time to reflect, and I wonder if I’d have been able to gain such perspective back home, surrounded by the usual apparatus of my life. Travelling alone was an unforgettable opportunity, with psychological rewards that I’m still reaping. The only thing I regret is that it wasn’t long enough, and as my plane landed at Heathrow, I was already planning another trip. There’s something very powerful about a woman navigating the world on her own terms, and I want to experience it again. The Muse by Jessie Burton (Picador, £12.99)
Charlotte McDonald-Gibson, 36, never imagined she’d report on the refugee crisis with her newborn son strapped to her chest. But it opened up her world in new ways
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he panic struck when I was six months pregnant. At first I wondered how I’d cope when the baby arrived. But as I looked ahead to maternity leave, another thought overwhelmed me. Could I really give up reporting on the most pressing humanitarian challenge of our time? I had been working as a foreign correspondent since 2002, covering coups, wars and natural disasters. I always relished packing a bag and setting of alone for a new challenge, and since 2013 I had been reporting on the refugee crisis in Europe. It was an issue I was passionate about, and
“Thoughts of less fortunate MOTHERS invaded the mental COCOON I had built around me and my son” I couldn’t imagine just stopping. So I decided I would use my maternity leave to write a book telling the story of the crisis through refugees’ eyes. When Nathaniel arrived, maternal instinct took over, and any illusion of free time was shattered. This tiny life was my responsibility. All my »
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