My daughter left for Europe yesterday, on a postgraduate burst of OE, in which she'll be cycling through Europe for six months on her own.
Reaction in the family to her very intrepid journey was divided, but as we said goodbye in the departures hall, I felt more envy than unease. My own experience of travelling tells me that the world is made up of mostly kind and interesting people. Those who mean you harm are vastly outnumbered by those who do not, and are easily avoided anyway if you keep your wits about you.
But she - and I, on her behalf - were feeling plenty of anxiety when she approached the check-in counter. Despite her days of paring down what she would take (her assortment of clothing was about what most of us would pack for a weekend in Rotorua) she just couldn't get her baggage-weight below 26kg. More than 16kg of that was the bicycle she had decided to buy here, rather than tangling simultaneously with culture shock, a language barrier and cycle purchase in Zagreb.
Her problem was that the airline she is flying with has a 23kg baggage limit and a surcharge for being 3kg over is, according to the website, US$165 ($191) - a big dent in her micro-budget.