There are moments in every person’s travels that just make travelling so addictive. For me, this particular moment was the defining moment happened on my first real trip abroad in 2000. It was in November, on the eve of the European winter. It was cold and wet, like the rest of my trip around Italy. Piazza San Marco was flooded to shin high. But none of that mattered. I was standing in front of one of the world’s best sights – Venice’s Grand Canal and strains of Pachelbel’s Canon rose through the air from one of the string quartets playing in the piazza. I was hooked.