IN 1993, as a fresh-faced language assistant, I immersed myself in the life of a small French town; Segré, just north of Angers.

I had no choice - it felt like I was the only Englishman for miles around.

Contact with home was limited to a cheaper post-6pm Sunday evening phone call or air-mail which arrived two days after posting.

My second experience as a foreign worker came when my wife and I taught at an international school in Thailand.

This time, the Sunday evening phone calls came with a much longer time-delay, air-mail was slow and our contact with British culture came via VHS cassettes; episodes of Cold Feet and Coronation Street went a long way to curing home-sickness.

Whether in South East Asia or France, I endeavoured to live like the locals: to learn the language, make friends and enjoy a new culture.

I wonder if I would do so today?

Without moving from my house I can use social media to be in contact with friends around the globe, access world news and be part of a supposedly global culture.

Why then does it sometimes feel like we are more different than ever before from other nationalities?

While I applaud many aspects of the technological revolution that is metaphorically making the world a smaller place, I fear that we are sometimes becoming further isolated.

We may travel in greater numbers but are we losing our wanderlust?

I wonder if many of the issues we currently face could possibly be solved by taking the time to understand issues from another perspective and cultural viewpoint.

It may be contentious to say so but maybe this can only come from experiencing life as an immigrant?