I don’t know why Europe should be known as “The Old Continent” when humanity started the other side of the Mediterranean in Africa but it is certainly abound with millennia of history.

Slumped on my sofa at the end of 1998 a subtle shade of yellow and suffering from glandular fever I had many weeks in which to contemplate my life to date. I worked out that on 10th January 2000 I would be exactly 10,000 days old and that apart from regular beer trips to Calais I had very little knowledge of mainland Europe.

The tiny Principalities and Republics of Monaco, San Marino, Liechtenstein, Andorra & Luxembourg, the stunning lakes of Scandinavia, the Pyrenean & Alpine mountains, Swiss glaciers, Giants Causeway in Ireland, Loch Ness in Scotland, the Arctic Circle, the Spanish Islands just north of the Tropic of Cancer, and the glorious cities of Paris, Rome, Milan, Zürich, Vienna, Stockholm, Helsinki, Oslo, Copenhagen, Dublin, Belfast, Amsterdam, and, of course, my home town London, Europe has been exhilarating to discover and continues to enthral with every visit.