Missives from another land are also from another age, writes Thomas Bywater.
You're more likely to be struck by lightning than receive a postcard. Well, it can sometimes feel like that.
Though the statistics are woolly, it's a rare occurrence to receive a postcard. Even as it arrives the information is secondhand — 12 Instagram posts, several roaming-allowance text messages and a lengthy Skype call old. In all probability, the sender will have already returned, long before a postcard emerges from the NZ Post sorting office.
Sending a postcard is a pure act of nostalgia. This piece of cheap cardboard is pact between you and the sender to pretend you still live in a gilded age of travel. Back when "going abroad" had an implied meaning of adventure. Something dangerous, even. When the carte postale was the only method by which to assuage worried relatives that you hadn't been eaten by a tiger or succumbed to some exotic strain of food poisoning. Back when the world was big.
Nowadays the trend for travel is less focused on the destination and more on what you are leaving behind. Whole brochures are dedicated to "getting away from it all". Your colleagues and family — broadly everyone left behind in the big "it" you are escaping — may struggle to muster the same enthusiasm for the next carefully composed smartphone image of yellowing sand and crystalline waters. In fact, they may even despise you for it.