As often as I possibly can. I probably travel half a dozen times a year for work, and a couple of times for pleasure. If I go with my family, it’s usually to Majorca. In all, I must spend a couple of months a year travelling, although if I’m making a travel series it’s more like four to six. Despite having seen a fair amount of the world, I still love travelling – I just have an insatiable curiosity, and like looking out of a window.

When I was growing up in Sheffield, no one really travelled very far and going to Norfolk was like going to the ends of the Earth. We always went to Sheringham, on the Norfolk coast, and we’d paddle in the rock pools, play cricket on the beach and eat crab sandwiches. After 10 years, my father decided it was time for a change and we started going to Suffolk.

And your first foray abroad?

When I was 19 and at university, I went on a skiing trip to Sölden, in Austria. It was the first time I had crossed the English Channel. Seeing the Alps for the first time was a real eye-opener. I also learnt to ski, and it was the first real holiday without my parents, so I was free to enjoy myself and do my own thing. It took me a while to find my feet on the ski slopes, though – my foot-eye coordination has never been great.

And the remotest place you’ve been since?

I’ve been lucky enough to stand on both poles, but the place that seemed the remotest to me was Butugychag, a former gulag, in Siberia. It is completely cut off from the rest of the world. During the Soviet era thousands of people were sent there to extract uranium because they were deemed to have committed some political crime. When I went in the Nineties, you could still see the walls of the old prison and the piles of discarded shoes even though the place hadn’t been used since the Fifties. How you could condemn people to live in such a bleak and inhospitable place is beyond me.

Most adventurous travel experience?

Probably voyaging down the Urubamba river, a tributary of the Amazon, which flows north from Machu Picchu. One stretch is particularly fast-flowing and if our boat had nudged the rocks we’d have probably toppled over, so my heart was in my mouth for a good hour.



The Urubamba river in the Sacred Valley of the Incas

Best way to travel?

I’ve never particularly liked travelling with large groups, or being told where to go by somebody else. I prefer to find out for myself. Of course, I’ve been lucky to have made a number of travel programmes with the BBC, the object being to see places off the beaten track. As a result, I’ve often had a guide who’s been able to show me things that you wouldn’t see with a tour group.

Favourite city?

Apart from London, probably New York. Like a lot of people who grew up in the Fifties, I’ve always had a bit of a love affair with America – and at that time New York seemed to epitomise the Unites States. Having visited much of the country, though, I now realise that isn’t really the case. Nonetheless, I still find it a tremendously exciting and glamorous city, what with its skyscrapers, and Woody Allen and Marlon Brando connections. It’s also very walkable and, despite being so tall, it also has a street life. I still get a buzz when I first see the city from a plane.

And your favourite hotel?

The D’Aubusson in Paris. There’s nothing particularly fancy about it, but it’s perfectly positioned on the Left Bank, is in a beautiful old house, and has a marvellous area downstairs where they play live music. Another thing: it doesn’t have 30 or 40 floors. I’m getting a bit disillusioned with high-rise hotels with elevators because sometimes you just can’t get down from your room.

Most luxurious travel experience?

Probably staying in one of the Aman resorts, which are really rather special. The hotels are built of local materials, are very spacious and you even have a little courtyard to yourself. The one my wife and I probably like best is Amanjena, in Marrakesh.

The Amanjena Hotel

Worst travel experience?

I remember staying in a hotel – although it was really a mud compound surrounded by wooden sheds – in Sudan. You could hear everything that was going on in the other rooms, and the man next door was having nightmares and crying out in his sleep. But the worst thing were the loos: essentially holes in the ground. Initially, I thought they’d put sawdust around them, but as I got closer I realised it was just piles and piles of maggots waiting for you.

Best piece of travel advice?

I’ve seen people get into a terrible state trying to squeeze travel bags into the overhead lockers on planes – so my motto is “travel light”. The truth is you don’t need to take 12 pairs of underpants with you. If you run out, you can always buy a new pair along the way.

What do you hate about holidays?

I’m not keen on crowds; to go to a beach jam-packed with people isn’t my idea of fun. I used to sunbathe because I thought it was important to tan my skin. Now I don’t and it’s a wonderful liberation. The last thing I want to do these days is cover myself in oil, sit in the sun, and get hot and sweaty. I also tend to avoid places that try to be like back home, and serve up nothing but hot chips and warm beer. The whole point of travelling abroad is to visit somewhere new and different.

What do you need for the perfect holiday?

Good company. If you’re going to go away, you really want to share the experience with a friend, in my case my wife. I also like to be near water.

Where do you want to go next?

I’d quite like to go to Iran for the cultural side of things. I’d also like to see the South Sea islands one day.

Michael Palin’s new novel, The Truth, is published by Phoenix, priced £7.99