Enjoying some post-exams time last week, conversation gradually drifted into the inevitable ream of questions concerning the ‘Grand Tour’ of summer plans. Mexico was mooted; a train through Russia to China (‘The Vodka Train’, naturally), Andalucia came up, as did New York and the Caribbean. Then it turned to me – and I suddenly realized the expanse of possibility. Try it: ponder the blank canvas of a lengthy four-month summer and you might find that the world suddenly seems very big, very big indeed. Where to start?

A recent article in a well known fashion magazine commented on the bad reputation of the ‘in-between’ stage. Usually, as the piece pointed out, ‘in-between’-ness does not have a great rep: ‘in-between’ jobs, stuck ‘in-between’ awkward situations, ‘in-between’ growing out your hair.

It seems that ‘in-between’ stages are not just underrated in the fashion world but also when it comes to travelling. With air travel so available, the romance has gone out of the journey: you book your flight, hop onto your plane and some hours of air-conditioned cabin time later you emerge into a different climate, culture and time-zone in a state of disorientation or at least, detachment, with no appreciation of distance travelled or landscapes crossed.

Some of the very best literature is about the journey, not the destination; think Kerouac’s On the Road, think Paul Theroux’s The Great Railway Bazaar, even The Motorcycle Diaries. Not to mention that several of the more intriguing crimmies are all aboard some kind of transport – Agatha Christie’s novel would not have been half as thrilling had Ratchett been stabbed in an anonymous hotel room rather than on the Orient Express.

Interrailing is always a popular option (and a tad cheaper than the Orient Express). Once you have your ticket, you are ready to roll up to more or less any station in 30 European countries – a freedom which means that if you turn up in a city you decide you aren’t keen on, all you need do is hop on the next train. The beauty of it is, and this should not be underestimated, that you are right in with the locals. After all, they are the ones who will know the best place for sangria, the most secluded coastlines, the cheapest bike rentals (or, as happened on one railway experience, they invite you back to their house and try to marry you off to their son). In fact, they are probably the best travel guides of all – although the Lonely Planet’s Europe on a Shoestring isn’t a bad place to start.

It’s worth establishing at this point, when it comes to travel the opportunities are as endless as the pennies in your purse. Some of the most gawp-worthy journeys (for want of a better phrase) can be done by train; you don’t just have to jump on the Interrail bandwagon although it can prove a starting point for further train exploration. There’s the Trans-Siberian railway, the bullet trains of Japan, El Nariz del Diablo in Ecuador… and those are just a few. There is something to be said for getting really local though: taking the sleeper class and speeding through the drowsy Indian heat of the Keralan backwaters has to be one of those rare Zen moments of feeling more than alive.

On the flip side, in these days of speed there is something to be said for slowing right on down and going by boat: not boats like the floating P&O palaces but boats that dictate what it really means to go by boat. It’s possible to get on a cargo ship bound for almost any port in the world and it will give a pretty unique perspective of global travel and the shipping trade. There’s even the thrill of unpredictability for those who like some adventure; if the weather’s right you can be rung up and told to pack your bags days before you were actually expecting to leave. There’s also the slow sense of progress and plenty of time to embark on all the books that you’ve ‘just never got round to’. No excuse when all that surrounds you is the deep blue and a nonchalant horizon.

This all seems very well of course until you add into the equation the prospect of an extremely light post-May Week wallet. However, there’s no reason this should get in the way of itchy feet. If it’s really extreme, just take get into the jailbreak mentality and see how far you can get for nothing.

In our eco-conscious world the brownie points you get for cycling or walking can definitely add an extra smugness factor to your travelling tales. You wouldn’t want your bike to rust up over the long vac and, quite literally, you can get right up close and personal with the travelling itself, taking ‘I’ve set foot on (insert country name)’s soil’ to new levels. Of course there are the limitations of having to travel light but the freedom of peeling back to basics, stepping from your back door and ending up who knows where; the backstreets of Rome, the foothills of the Alps, definitely has an aura of liberation.

Finally, none of us should forget what we have on our very doorsteps. Taking a campervan to Cromer or your walking boots to the Scottish mountains is not something to be sneered at by the Byron’s amongst us who really are taking the Grand Tour. You could slow down to three miles an hour and take a narrowboat down the Grand Union canal to London or wander along the lonely beaches of Northumberland. The UK might seem small (yes, and maybe a little rainy) but if you walk from side to side or top to bottom like the land artist Richard Long, you might find it’s a whole lot bigger than you imagined.

There is something in the rhythm of a journey, be it footsteps or the rhythm of a train, that makes us stop inside ourselves for a moment. There is a feeling of progress and still a time to contemplate. The Cambridge machine is incessant so we should take a moment and appreciate the value of the ‘in-between’ stage. One tip on the money side – book the basics now: cheaper and it’ll give you more time to get those travelling taste buds watering.