This is a guest post from our recent Steppes Traveller magazine, written by one of our long-standing clients, Leslie Holmes.
I’m at that wonderful stage of life where travel has become a priority rather than something squeezed between other commitments. After retiring from my role as Head of a Clinical Department in the NHS at the end of 2019, I had grand plans for 2020. I managed one last adventure – flying to Australia in January before catching one of the final flights out of New Zealand, as the world locked down in March. Covid reminded me that nothing is guaranteed, so now I’m determined to make the most of every opportunity to explore.
Travel has woven through my life like a golden thread. As a child, I have vivid memories of a year in Paris when I was nine, watching the world unfold beyond our everyday routine. In my twenties, career focus and limited finances meant fewer adventures – something I still regret. But my early thirties brought trekking in Nepal and teaching stints in Hong Kong that opened doors to China and Indonesia.
When our daughters were young, we were determined not to let family life stop us exploring. My sister had emigrated to Australia, giving us the perfect excuse for long-haul adventures. Over three trips, we discovered Sydney, the Blue Mountains, Noosa, Fraser Island and the raw beauty of Kakadu. Junior schools were more relaxed about term-time holidays then – as long as our daughters kept journals and photographed the class teddy having adventures, we were good to go.
The children took everything in their stride: open-air showers, dust, spotting dingoes during midnight toilet runs whilst wild camping. We were almost disappointed when we eventually moved to campsites with proper facilities. The mosquitoes were less popular – they seemed to find our eldest daughter particularly tasty and we have photos to prove she survived the carnage.
I know how fortunate I am to have had these opportunities, but I’ve learned that the most memorable holidays aren’t necessarily the most expensive ones. What stays with me are the unexpected moments – like sitting with our travel group at lunch near an elephant sanctuary in Sri Lanka, after our guide had gently urged us to leave the sanctuary earlier than we wanted. None of us understood why, until all the elephants came down to bathe right beside our table. That magical hour watching them play would never have happened without local knowledge.
Small group adventures both as a family and solo traveller have worked well and I love the combination of meeting new people and sharing magical experiences, whilst knowing that all the stress of getting from one place to another has all been taken care of. Important when I was working and wanted to see and enjoy as much as possible in a shorter space of time.
Photography has become my travel companion – whether it’s a proper camera or just my phone, it helps me slow down and really see what’s happening around me. Our daughters joke that my camera is my third child and they’re probably right. Being behind a lens gets me out of my head and into the moment and, afterwards, the images bring everything flooding back.
But it was discovering wildlife photography that really transformed how I travel. I started joining small group safaris with photographer Paul Goldstein and it’s hard to describe the thrill of sharing space with a cheetah or tiger in their world. They know you’re there, but carry on with their lives, completely unbothered. Part of the magic is being surrounded by others who are equally excited – no one’s checking their watch or saying, “seen it, next.”
Paul works incredibly hard to get people into the best places at the right time – usually ridiculously early, so that we maximise our chances of spending time with animals in the best conditions and light. Whilst he doesn’t make demands of the animals, he does make huge demands of you as a photographer pushing you to go beyond a record shot and aim for something different. I fail more with my pictures now, but when they work, they’re so much better than anything I managed before. And when the photography isn’t working? Well, what could be better than spending an afternoon with breaching whales in Alaska or watching jaguars stalking through the hyacinth in the Pantanal.
My first encounter with Steppes came through a webinar linked to one of Paul’s Svalbard expeditions. I hadn’t planned on committing to anything, yet the idea of being alerted at any time day or night for a polar bear sighted itself immediately. What tipped the decision wasn’t promise of sightings but the sense that the trip was shaped by people who understood both the place and the patience required. On board, some of the Steppes team joined us. They operated as part of the group – understanding our experience and needs. Their presence wasn’t the foreground story; it simply made the experience run cleanly.
When my husband Rupert and I decided to explore Japan together we carved out four weeks, which sounds generous, but would evaporate quickly without structure. I knew I wanted expert help rather than trying to plan everything myself. Working with Clare at Steppes felt like having a knowledgeable friend craft our adventure. She understood what would make us tick – the ryokans, incredible food, Tokyo’s energy, Kyoto’s beauty and the emotional weight of Hiroshima – pace without hurry, variety without overload.
One highlight was staying in a boat house in Ine, a small fishing village, with huge windows overlooking the harbour. It rained, but there was something perfect about people-watching from our sofa, observing traditional Japanese houses across the water whilst gulls squabbled over their favourite buoys. Those quiet moments between adventures often become the memories that linger longest.
Travel has taught me that the best experiences happen when you’re open to the unexpected. Whether it’s accepting that 3am Arctic zodiac expedition or trusting a local guide’s timing, some of my most treasured memories came from saying yes when comfort suggested saying no.
The sensory feast of new places never gets old – different tastes, sounds, smells that jolt you into awareness. Food tours have become a regular part of our travels and Japan’s cuisine was revelatory. Each meal felt like a small adventure in itself.
Looking ahead, my list only grows longer. Kenya in January, Botswana in July, perhaps back to the Pantanal or exploring more of South America with Rupert. The more people I meet and stories I hear, the more places call to me. But I’m equally drawn to revisiting somewhere like the Arctic – there’s something about returning to places that have captured your heart.
I think what I love most about travel is how it reminds you that the world is vast and varied and endlessly surprising. Every trip, whether it’s watching emperor penguins in Antarctica or discovering a perfect bowl of ramen in a Tokyo side street, reinforces how much there is to see and experience.
And perhaps most importantly, travel has shown me that these adventures are more accessible than you might think. With the right planning and local knowledge, you can find yourself in extraordinary places, making memories that will sustain you long after you return home. The excitement of that 3am polar bear wake-up call? Absolutely worth every early morning and every mile travelled to get there.
If you have a story to share from your travels with us, we’d love to hear it – get in touch via [email protected].
