Snorting cocaine and sipping on caipirinhas from Pablo Escobar's Colombian rooftop was what I imagined I’d be doing now. Instead, I find myself reverse-snorting phlegm and sipping on Horlicks from Dai Lampost's Kidwellian patio. No, I don't have any particular virus. My body is just bracing itself for a prolonged, frigid winter, trapped inside the reeking bowels of a small Welsh town.

January 23rd, 2015. A plane touches down at Honolulu International Airport bearing an anxious - and extremely inebriated - Welshman with a large flag and a foolhardy plan. That Welshman was Max Boyce (he planned to climb Mauna Kea bollock-naked whilst playing ‘I’m Going Home to Swansea Town’). Also on that plane was another Welshman, with a slightly more reasonable plan of visiting every country in the world. This, folks, is the naissance of Hit The Road Jack.

A few weeks ago, I came across the blog of a compatriot called Amy, who runs Wandering Everywhere. She was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease in 2014, an incurable and lifelong illness that causes the inflammation of the digestive system. This manifests itself in a many number of symptoms which could have discouraged her from travelling altogether. Instead, she's doing the exact opposite.