Travel?

I am quite fed up. Fed up thanks to a whole lot of things. Then again, perhaps its angry, and again angry thanks to a whole lot of things. Why the feelings? I just need a break from home, not from my home per se. No. It's not that. I need to travel. If I could just up my house and transport it to somewhere else in the globe, then that is just what I'd do. The problem is I've grown so fond of my house. Travelling would mean hotels, and no hotel in the world is as comfortable as my house. Sure they could be grander, but I like my creature comforts just the way I like them and have installed everything the way I want it over here. I don't care about the Heavenly Beds. My bed is heavenly because there are always a few cats on it. It wouldn't be that way in a Holiday Inn, or a Sheraton, or a Westin, or even a Radisson and a Hilton. Hotels creep me out. I never get to know who's been in the bed before, or who's died in the bed before, or who has had loads of sex (meaning loads of spunk) in the bed. Yes, I am as territorial as you can get. I want mine, mine, mine. And I don't share either. But is it time up for me in Malta? It really seems so. This island has grown too small for me, or perhaps I've outgrown it. I want creations, opportunities, and excitement. There is nothing very exciting here quite simply because I've been around everywhere (yes even the infamous Testaferrata street which is nothing to shout about). This isn't London where no matter how many times I roam about Camden I always find something new. This is not Milan where I could safely wear my real fur. And this is not Egypt where I could look at the Sphinx and imagine it were looking back at me. This not even Libya where I would be the talk of the town the the subject of many admirers. Or France, oh that would be liberating. And I think I could be lured away from my creature comforts for excitement. The only problem is, how the hell would I transport my four legged creatures? Oh yes, they're all micro-chipped, but still how does one travel with a 100kg dog, a 92kg dog, six cats and one parrot? It's useless. And no I will not give them away. Because they're all mine too. And no, I will not get a house sitter because a house sitter does no know the way I handle my pets. I know their every move, I know when they decide to get hungry just to get me out of bed, and when they're really hungry. They're spoilt, I know, I've spoilt them, and I don't care one hoot. I chose to bring them up, so they get the best treatment. I'd do the same if they were my human kids, and no it's not funny. And although I'm talking of travel, I'd miss them terribly. Which leaves me no choice but to stay.