My father used to say that stories are part of the most precious heritage of mankind.

During the days I felt myself slipping into a kind of madness. Solitary confinement has an astonishing effect on the mind. The trip was to stay calm and keep myself occupied. I spent hours working out how to break free. But trying to escape would have been instant suicide.

I was becoming addicted to Bombay. There was squalor and poverty, but I had begun to realise my good fortune and would never again forget it.

Buy a house in a foreign country and, it seems, that anything which can go wrong usually does.

There can be few situations more fearful than breaking down in darkness on the highway leading to Casablanca. I have rarely felt quite so vulnerable or alone.

Move to a new country and you quickly see that visiting a place as a tourist, and actually moving there for good, are two very different things.

I felt sure we could gain the upper hand by putting ourselves in the mindset of the Incas.