The future beckons the unfulfilled.

The more the time to leave Bhutan draws close, the more I consider what I’ve missed. I never did shoot a traditional bow with the locals. I never did get further east than Bumthang. I never did learn to cook ema datshi. I never learnt to speak Dzongkha or Sharshop. Actually, I don’t think I even learnt how to spell Sharshop (Sharshogpa, Shachopp?).

But I can’t regret those failures. To leave a country having done everything is to have no interest in coming back; to lose the interest in travel; to lose interest in life. What can you give the man who has everything? I think this should really say, ‘Where can you take the man who’s been everywhere?’ or ‘What experience can you give the man who’s done everything?’

Leaving unfulfilled, as I am, I am filled with desire to come back or to move on. Life’s energy pulses within me, drawing me on to new and bizarre places, with new and interesting people and new and exciting risks and new and enticing knowledge. The future beckons the unfulfilled.