I’ve grown up in a family of travellers. My Grandparents on my Mum’s side emigrated on a boat from England, leaving everything they had and everyone they knew behind them to enter into the big unknown of “life in Australia”. My Dad spent the best part of his twenties abroad, travelling through the untouched countries of South America, living the “high-life” in England and selling his blood for money in northern Africa to “keep the dream alive”. My Mum travelled all throughout Europe with a friend in a Mini Cooper in her early twenties, even hijacking a tour bus at one point, and to this day continues trekking her way around the world. So it’s no wonder I find myself sitting in a steaming hot internet cafe in Leon, Nicaragua writing a travel blog. What hope did I have?!

Two weeks ago, I finally clocked my half century – I…