Back in 1985 I took a trip to India, leaving my husband and two young children for almost a month. I wasn’t the same person when I came back. I kept a daily journal of the journey around the subcontinent, in trains, boats and buses. The grubby green notebook has remained close to me since. Of course in those days there was no skype, no email even, and to make a call home you had to travel to the telegraph office. Now, thirty years on, I’d like some of the younger travellers in my family to see how much long-haul travel has changed since I took my terrified place on the bucket-shop flight to Bombay.