I've always enjoyed looking at maps: of real places, and imagined. If I'm stuck in the car for fifteen minutes waiting for my wife to finish work, I'll almost impulsively reach for the street directory (yes, I still own one) and start leafing through. I've always hankered after the bird's-eye view.

Like many, it was Professor Tolkien's maps of Middle Earth that instilled in me a love of maps of imaginary places. As a child I was pretty handy with a pencil (in the same way others were handy with a cricket bat), and so it was only natural I give it a go. I remember, as a 12 year old, creating a vast, detailed map of an archipelago I dubbed Dragon's Reach. It was large enough to cover my parent's dining table. Where is it now? I remember sitting in school detention, covering a sketchpad in tiny trees and mountains, naming cities, towns, lakes and plains after friends and with gibberish words snatched from the air.

Then I discovered Dungeons & Dragons, and that was that. I played it constantly for the next couple of years, creating and embellishing my maps, until I discovered music. And girls.

I don't play D&D much these days, but I still love looking at maps. Historical maps particularly: as well as being very beautiful, they depict a world where there were still blank spaces to be filled in.