“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” – Robert Louis Stevenson
If you traveled Route 66, before it was replaced by Interstate 40, you might have seen these rock faces alongside the road. The rocks are in Arizona’s Painted Desert, which old Route 66 passed through. Interstate 40 bypasses the scenic landscape. — Photo by Pat Bean
How Do You Travel
I was 13 when I went on my first road trip, an adventure on Route 66 when it was in its prime. My uncle drove his new 1952 Oldsmobile 100 mph across Texas, New Mexico and Arizona into California, my aunt by his side and me in the back seat with my 18-month-old cousin Barbara. I got invited on the trip, my first time out of Texas, to babysit.
I had lunch in a diner on Route 66, just across from this sign, which stands along of the bits and pieces of the old Mother Road that still exists. — Photo by Pat Bean
It was a long, two-day drive there, and two days back, but I was never bored. Nor did I do anything to entertain myself but to stare out the window. Watching the world go by out the window is still what I do when I’m in a car, either as driver or passenger. The passing sights, be they strange, new and scenic or familiar, decaying and nondescript, continually fascinate me. I’m always expecting to see something wonderful.
That wasn’t the case with my children, who read comic books or slept on long drives; or my grandchildren, who watch videos or play games on their phones constantly when they are in the car.
So now I ask myself, is the world different, or kids different. Or does the wanderlust in my soul make me different? How do you travel?
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I don’t sleep, read or play games. I look at the scenery and listen to podcasts or music. Sometimes I talk to my driver. I don’t want to miss anything!
While I sometimes listen to audible books, I mostly just enjoy the scenery and the chaotic thoughts running through my brain. Thanks for commenting Susan.
I’m a lousy companion in a vehicle, whether a passenger or driving. I don’t talk or engage much at all, just look around at whatever is to see, or drive and look around at whatever there is to see. The only time I ever got tired of this was way back in 1966 when my “new” husband of about a year and I drove from Ohio to South Dakota. Crossing Iowa was like three days of Groundhog Day, i.e., neverchanging repetition. *G*
Sounds like you and I would make great driving partners, Sam
I think you’re different, and I think you’ve also defined the difference between a tourist and a traveler. To a lot of people travel is all about the destination, and no matter the decade those who see travel only in terms of arrival will find some way to pass away the time in getting there. I agree with Mr Stevenson, the great affair is to move. Often in my travels the destination is of secondary interest, the primary interest is to be on the move.
You hit the bull’s eye on how I feel that the journey is as or more important than the destination, which is why Ursula K. Le Guin’s quote: It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters,” is permanently featured on my blog. Thanks for commenting A;ex. I love our chats.
For me, it’s always the journey. My husband and I get in the car and go. He does most of the driving. We listen to the radio or talk. We search out places we’ve never been. I scan the landscape for scenes to photo. Always carry a camera and a notebook and pen to record my thoughts about the trip. We find places to walk and people to talk with. Love being on the road. Never get bored.
Sounds wonderful Joann. I always travel with a notebook, pen and camera too.
Very much like your photo at the top of your post. It jolted my own memory of being in the Painted Desert last April. Such a magical place.