WHILE it's exhilarating to have so many travel programs on the telly, the downside can be an almost jaded feeling when you see the real thing.
Take the Eiffel Tower. You've seen so many images of it, by the time you get to see it in person you could be forgiven for stifling a yawn and muttering a cynical "been there, done that".
The same goes for the Trevi Fountain, the Great of Wall of China, the Colosseum. We feel as though we know these icons personally even if we've never visited them.
One place that does leave you wobbly with awe no matter how often you've seen it in the movies or on the telly is the Grand Canyon.
It's a bit like childbirth - nothing prepares you for the shock of it.
The immensity, the vastness, the jaw-dropping hugeness of it. (The Grand Canyon, not childbirth.)
The splendour, the majesty, the spine-tingling grandeur of it.
Gaze out at the vast expanse. Wonder at the brilliant red hues and intricate rock configurations.
Did Mother Nature really create this marvel? Did she really form these elaborate rock sculptures? Did she really bless the environment with these dazzling colours?
Standing on the edge of the canyon makes you feel tiny and insignificant. It really is overwhelming. It commands silence.
Just when you are about to pinch yourself for reassurance that you are really are there, a loud twangy voice behind you intrudes: "Come on kids, stand right there in front of that quiet lady. That's the best spot."
And a bunch of kids wearing reindeer antlers rush in front of you so Mum can capture a photo of them against the awesome backdrop to stick on a card to send to grandma at Christmas.
TAKE ME THERE
TAKE me to the Grand Canyon in Arizona.
Let me gaze out to the vast depths where brilliant rock formations that look like artworks seem to surge to the horizon.
If you really want to impress me, take me on a helicopter flight over the canyon, let me land on the canyon floor and look up to the splendour of this natural marvel.