Why The Flight Instinct?

You know that annoying child sat behind you on a long-haul flight, whining about being bored and kicking your chair? Yeah, that was me.

I’ve been travelling as long as I can remember.

Ready for our first transatlantic move … some of us blatantly more excited than others.

By the time I was 8, we had lived in 10 houses and I had attended 6 different schools. I wasn’t quite so exotic as those military kids – our travels were based in the UK, Ireland, and the USA. We can all thank Poppa Hepburn and his career for this one.

So picture this, the perfect happy family road-tripping across America (or rather, two very frustrated and fed-up parents trying their best not to just open the car doors and get rid of the two arguing demons in the back seat), visiting beautiful landmarks such as the Grand Canyon in Arizona, the 4 Corners where 4 states intersect, all the National Parks… and do you think I remember any of this? Nope. Turns out the memory of a 5-year-old is pretty similar to that of a goldfish.

Where did she get it from?” My parents beg each other as they board the plane to relocate to Arizona, their nest finally empty with their two adult children having moved out. “We just don’t understand it!” They say on their 30-mile cycle around Italian lakes. “It must be from your side of the family.” My mother tells my father as they reminisce about their summer inter-railing around Europe as young adults.

Me and my cousin hanging out at Mount Hood, very impatient to get back in the car so that we could continue reading Harry Potter…

I would argue that travelling is definitely in my blood. No matter what my parents say, they have wandering spirits too – Dad had the option to accept a post in Ireland or to travel to the other side of the world to an arid landscape with his family, which would entail further relocations over the years. His reasoning? ‘We looked at the weather forecast in Arizona, and it was like nothing we’d ever experienced before – 40 degrees Celcius with 0 humidity? We had to go.’ Boom. Traveller. His first realization of what they had done arrived when I was 14 and asked to go to Spain for half a year. ‘Sure,’ he replied naively, ‘if you sort it out yourself.’ You can bet your butt he didn’t expect me to do that. I’m sure my mother gave him quite the row that evening. Moral of the story for all you fathers out there – never underestimate the determination of your teenage daughter.

Finding out how small I am at the Redwood Forest in San José.

Being exposed to all of this at such a young age has developed in me the sense of being a minute part of such an enormous world, and I want to see it all. It’s also made me a massive commitment-phobe, terrified of the concept of a mortgage and a job contract and not having the freedom to hop on a plane and run away to sunnier climates. It’s gotten to the point where travelling has become almost instinctual for me – hence the blog name The Flight Instinct (See what I did there?)

Trying to fit in with the locals at Saddleback Mountain.

With this in mind, I relocated to Edinburgh 3 years ago to finish my teacher training, and I love being based here and watching my little cousins grow up, going to dinner with my grandparents and settling into the city where my mother bought her first flat… so long as every few months I can run away from it all in search of new adventures. I hope you enjoy following my journey around the world and perhaps are inspired to commence a similar journey! And hey, perhaps if you’ve made it all the way to the end of this you’ll be interested in hopping on over to instagram and giving https://www.instagram.com/theflightinstinct and https://www.instagram.com/flightydaughters a follow for daily updates on my travels!

I’ll just leave this here for you all… working on my instagram poses from a young age!

Finding my good side on Diamond Lake 💎[

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