Universe in a magic Drop

Plinky asked me what’s the farthest I’ve ever travelled from home.

And I couldn’t help laughing at a song that we used to sing, drunk in the pub, for a laugh.

With every respect, I present:

Oh, I’ve been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run
Took the hand of a preacher man
and we made love in the sun
But I ran out of places and friendly faces
Because I had to be free
I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

Oh, I’ve been to Nice and the isle of Greece
when I sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo
and showed them what I’ve got
I’ve been undressed by kings
and I’ve seen some things that a woman ain’t s’posed to see
I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

(I’ve Never Been to Me, by Charlene – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sn7d7gZj_qc)

But I owe you answers so, here goes:

In the geographic sense, it’s Tofino on the east coast of Vancouver island – actually, about two miles out to sea to the east of Tofino, when we went whale watching.

In a metaphysical sense, as far as my dreams and subconscious have transported me, into multiple stories and identities.

In a cosmological sense, as far as I can go yet no distance at all, at the same time in an infinite number of universes.

In the metaphorical sense, the farthest I’ve been from home is the corporate shape I’d adopted over the last couple of decades, so alien to me, yet formed from my own bones, muscles and sinews.

The very meaning of the word travel is filled with directions.

Will I travel further?

Well, I’m breathing aren’t I?