I'VE interviewed a few people who have been on holidays of a lifetime, but try beating this.

White water rafting in Australia, swimming with dolphins in New Zealand, shaking the hand of the Dalai Lama, walking on the Great Wall of China, crawling through the underground tunnels built by the Viet Cong, visiting the Taj Mahal, working in the Mother Theresa orphanage in Calcutta, chatting with the long necked women in Northern Thailand, riding a Harley Davidson across Sydney Harbour bridge.

And so it goes on and on and on.

Netty Bowen lost three stone in weight doing all that, aided and abetted by two bouts of dysentery and a close encounter with pneumonia.

Now she's back home in Worcester and life seems very quiet indeed.

For the past year, this professional care worker back-packed her way around a substantial part of the world.

At the age of 54 it seemed about the right thing to do.

I might not have had the chance again, she laughed. I've always wanted to do something like it and I'm so glad I did.

Her only serious problem seems to be withdrawl symptoms.

I think I've got the travelling bug," said the lady who had only been abroad twice in her life before, once for a week in Spain when she was 20 and later for a weekend in Paris.

When I think of all the lovely people I met I get the urge to go back and work among them.

For six weeks, Netty taught English to Tibetan refugees and monks in Northern India beautiful people and hankers a bit to return.

Her adventure, although rather freewheeling as it went along, had a framework carefully planned before she left and was aimed within the budget that her savings allowed.

Netty left home on September 1, 2000, for Heathrow airport, backpack securely in place and a pair of boots dangling from the strappings.

I didn't take much, some clothes, towels, first aid kit, camera and my Walkman with a few tapes, Madonna, a soul singers' compilation and something called Voice of the Wind, which is sort of New Age music.

No, I didn't take a dress. I couldn't see when I would ever wear one.

Her first port of call, after 24 hours flying via Los Angeles and Hawaii, was Fiji, where she arrived in the wake of the coup by George Speight and his cohorts.

Fortunately, I didn't see much of it. I went to watch a rugby match instead.

Understandable for a lady born in Lamphrey, West Wales.

It was a local derby game between the West Highlanders and Nondi and the Nondi women sang all through the game. It was beautiful.

Thereafter the trip resembled a travelogue New Zealand, Australia, Bali, Java, Sumatra, Malaya, Thailand, Vietnam, China and finally India.

Netty flew home from Bombay.

The only country I had intended to visit but couldn't when I got there was Nepal, because the situation was too dangerous.

Most of the time she stayed in backpackers' hostels or their local equivalent and when the sleeping arrangement was bunk beds, there was always a race for the bottom one.

Throughout the whole trip, there was not one scare of mugging or assault.

Someone must have been watching over me! she laughed.

The only potentially serious moment was in Jakarta when Netty found herself in the middle of a student demonstration about to be cleared by police so I sought safety in McDonald's!

There was also the occasion in Sumatra when a stroppy bus driver tried to rip her off for her fare, but despite his threats, she held her ground and eventually won.

Strong woman, muttered the other passengers, who were all locals.

While teaching the Tibetan refugees, Netty was introduced to the Dalai Lama I actually shook his hand - and while in Calcutta did voluntary work in the Mother Theresa orphanage.

In the past year, I have met the most amazing people and seen the most amazing sights, she said. I have met people who had nothing, but had everything. They lived for today, because they had nothing else.

"It was a very humbling experience.