If they ever had a Crime Olympics, Martin Bryant would be up there on the gold medallist's platform. He shot 36 people in an afternoon, most of them from close enough to look into their eyes.

He was a simpleton, not quite insane, but backward enough that he was unemployable. Banal and boring, he came into an inheritance and spent a good deal of it on long distance travel. Not that he liked flying, or had a need to go to far off places. No, this was the only way that he could get people to talk to him, by sitting in the next seat for hours at a stretch. Heaven knows what he talked about, but going by later events, I wouldn't imagine that it was deep and meaningful, or pleasant and witty. Or remotely enjoyable.

I think that if he wanted conversation, he should have saved his money and taken up work as a taxidriver. We cabbies get intimacy thrust upon us many times a day. And we're paid for it!

Our passengers have no escape, and we can bend their ears for however long it takes us to drive them home. If Bryant had been a cabbie, he would have relished the job. And his passengers would have hated it. He would, quite literally, have been the Cabbie from Hell.

I'm probably the only cabbie in Canberra to have a Qantas platinum frequent flyer card, along with the little splash of oneWorld green. I rarely bend the ears of my fellow travellers, whether I'm driving them or they are sitting beside me, high in the sky. If they don't want to talk, that's fine by me.

There are those who want to talk. I've had some marvellous conversations in cab or plane, met some amazing people, and finished a trip smiling broadly. It's all very well to see the world, enjoy the travel, sip champagne ten kilometres up and all the rest of it. But when it comes down to the bottom line, it's the people that make my trips. The conversation and companionship, the sharing of ideas, tales, tips, and meals. The joy of learning something else about others and passing along a bit of my own life - that's what keeps me travelling.

And smiling. Every now and then, I'll be driving a party of drunks home along a deserted freeway at two in the morning, and I'll be grinning happily to myself. It's the thought of Amy in Charlestown, Mary in London, Elhamisabel in Frankfurt, Jennifer in Christchurch, Fuat in New York, Cari in Osaka...

Not lovers, but friends. Friends who share many of my interests, friends who can laugh and cry with me, friends who smile at the crazy Australian who comes jetting in for a day and gives them a great big hug.

Maybe they should lock me away. Save me from spending all that money, save me from contributing to global warming.

Maybe. But for the time being, so long as I've got the money and time to do it, I'll spend a month or so each year sharing experiences with my friends, and the rest of the year dreaming about it.

Now, buckle your seatbelt, please. Not that it's going to be a wild ride, but in six days I'm off around the world again, and while I expect it all to be fine and fair, maybe we'll encounter some turbulence along the way. Best be prepared!