My best ever trip…

I passed through Oval tube station in London less than 24 hours before it was bombed in July, 2005

It’s hard to pick the best trip because every place I visit becomes part of me, and memories of people and places I’ve come into contact with return after several years in some cases.

I could pick a few trips that were particularly memorable, like train journeys around western and eastern Europe in my younger days, one or two towns in Morocco (Fez and Marrakech come to mind), the pyramids near Cairo, or Bali in Indonesia, but these places actuallyform part of a greater itinerary that is life itself.

I felt most relaxed in…

Probably Virginia in the US. I was there as an artist-in-residence for several weeks, so I could concentrate on my art without the pressures of deadlines, surrounded by nature.

There were many other visual artists, composers, choreographers and writersthere too, so the company was very creativeand stimulating.

I lost my cool in…

I’m quite sure that I only lose that in Malta…

I felt so welcome in…

People in Tokyo are typically courteous but can become quite friendly once you get to know them, even though the Japanese are known to like to keep a respectful distancefrom others.

I had an exhibition in a gallery in Ginza last year, and the gallery owners were extremely welcoming, introducing me to the subtle flavours of Japanese cuisine and a very refined aesthetic that pervades their daily lives – from the Buddhist temples of Kamakura to the meticulous pieces of origami that their daughter crafted as we waited for lunch one day.

At the other end of the emotional scale, the artistic crowd I met in Buenos Aires this yearwas very warm, approachable and had a habit of asking us to join them for dinner onlyafter 10.30pm.

I couldn’t wait to leave…

Again, one or two places in Morocco, although I’d return to the country because it is lovely.

Meknes in northern Morocco – we arrived late and tired, without a booking and didn’t bother to check whether the room had a bathroom. Big mistake… but it was only for one night.

Then there was another isolated village where we got completely lost and were picked up for questioning by the police because apparently, they weren’t used to seeing many tourists.

I partied hardest in…

Salzburg. I was in nearby Hallein for a workshop for artists and photographers, and we were invited to exhibition openings almost every night for over two weeks. We met several really interesting artists in big galleries like Thaddaeus Ropac, and on some nights managed to go to two or even three noisy openings.

I cringe when I think of…

The poverty that was still quite visible in parts of Romania when I visited it for the first time a few years after Ceausescu’s death. Or the fact that I visited the World Trade Centre in New York only 10 days before the fatal event on September 11, 2001. Or that I passed through Oval tube station in London less than 24 hours before it was bombed in July, 2005.

I laughed so hard in…

Several places where the native language created communication problems.

China stands out. I was based in Beijing for a month but we travelled a bit with two children, and it was far from easy but very adventurous.

There were several occasions when linguistic and cultural differences made things difficult and also funny, like being unaware of where the airport bus was taking us in Taiyuan, a city in the Shanxi province, or having our hair stroked by people in the street because we looked different.

Another time, we were visiting the spectacular Buddhist temples on Wutai mountain, and we stopped for lunch in a little place, where the owners thought it was perfectly OK to stand next to our table through the whole meal and laugh heartily at our ineptitude with chopsticks. It was awkward but we laughed along with them.

My longest journey was…

New Zealand. I was based as an artist and scholar at the School of Fine Arts at the University of Canterbury in Christchurch for almost a year and travelled a lot around the whole country. Driving for hours through the spectacular scenery in the South Island is an indescribable feeling I can never forget.

I wish I could live in…

I don’t think I could pick a single place, although I can say that I’ve always felt a certain affinity with France, the French language and French art and literature.

I treasure the memory of…

A solo exhibition I had at Modern Art Oxford in the UK – the organisation was excellent and I enjoyed the crowd at the opening.

The owners thought it was perfectly OK to stand next to our table through the whole meal and laugh heartily at our ineptitude with chopsticks

Or the opening event of a big sculpture exhibition I was involved in at The Hague. Participating artists were asked to wear fancy dress, and I wore a black, clerical cassock. I assumed I couldn’tpossibly bump into anyone I knew there, but a few minutes after arriving, a Maltese artist, the late Isabelle Borg, dropped by because she’d been invited too.

The most delicious food I’ve tasted was…

Probably an exquisite lunch for many artists and critics hosted by the Vrankens, owners ofPommery Champagne at their chateau inReims, France.

Or a meal at a chic place in Kuala Lumpur, where we were offered lots of different things to eat and even cooked our own giant prawns on a hot pot. At the other end of the scale, there was something I ate in a Communist-style milk bar in Warsaw that I’d prefer to forget.

Even worse, the scorpion, snake and silkworm kebabs in a street market in Beijing… but I gave them a miss.

The hardest part of travelling is…

For me the biggest headache is usually related to the transportation of artwork from one placeto another, and then the installation of the work on site.

Experience has taught me to find shortcuts, like producing work that can be taken apart and hence fits in my luggage. But that is not always possible.

When I was in New Zealand, I was invited to have a show in the southernmost town in the country – Invercargill – and the only way to get there was aboard a small plane on which you had to load your own luggage (in my case, several boxes with art).

A few weeks earlier, a similar plane had crashed in New Zealand. As I pushed the boxes towards this fragile-looking plane on the runway at dawn, I wondered: “Why am I doing this?”

Travel has taught me to…

Never take anything for granted.

I dream of one day visiting…

Fallingwater, a great house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in Pennsylvania.