1 A long, only slightly emotional thread: 11 years ago, when I graduated from journalism school, I pitched a feature about a journey to Syria to this publication: Lonely Planet magazine. At the time, sending in a pitch felt as much of a long shot as buying a lottery ticket...

2 ... somehow it paid out. After being rejected from reporting jobs covering 1) bank accounts 2) caravans 3) prams & baby carriers, I somehow ended up as a full-time salaried travel writer at Lonely Planet magazine.

3 Today I picked up the last ever printed issue of Lonely Planet magazine. I'd say writing for them was always my dream job – but really, to 22-year-old me, travelling the world for a living seemed too far fetched for dreaming.

4 The editorial team were the best. There were astonishing writers. It won awards to set shelves creaking. It commissioned photography to set hearts racing. At its best, a turn of the page seemed to summon a faraway breeze.

5 Lonely Planet magazine was part of a business. But many of us who worked there believed it was more than that. LP started out as a resource for travellers, by travellers – a fraternity of horizon-struck souls. A name to conjure up big skies and the open road.

6 I travelled to 40+ countries, set alarm clocks to watch umpteen sunrises, experienced hangovers from every kind of revolting local brew. Working for LP mag was a magic license to chat with people on every continent. Working there was a life lived in technicolour. I'll miss it.

7 What I'll also miss is the minute anyone heard you worked for Lonely Planet mag. Their eyes lit up: they wanted to tell you about their travels. These are, more often than not, the happiest times of their lives.

8 Thanks to everyone in the London office. And also big love to all the folks I worked with on the road, most of all @philipleeharvey @jonstokes @mattmunro @christalarwood @justinfoulkes who will always live on my shelves.