. . . and then there is travel-
And the two should never be confused. They’re not interchangeable. The first is merely a go-through-the-motions exercise, the dried-out process of getting somewhere, spending a little time, and returning home. But travel is another matter entirely. It is a consuming experience, an adventure, really, and some little piece of it stays with you forever. What separates the extraordinary journey from the merely ordinary often has little to do with place. It is simply a matter of what you bring to the trip-your frame in which you place the experience.
Despite popular opinion, travel is not, and never has been, only about collecting pre-packaged pieces of scenery. It’s much more personal than that. It is an individual response-your response-in a given context that makes a trip either memorable or disposable. When it’s memorable, it’s because of what you saw and what you felt and what you thought. Then, too, there is the discovery of unexpected pleasures. And the irony of liking what you thought you would not, and disliking what you expected to embrace.
The joy of travel is making a wrong turn and confronting a sight that is at that moment the prettiest you have ever seen;
it’s a restaurant whose smell can always be recalled and always makes you feel warm inside;
When I think about my favorite trips, I remember the details: colors, tastes, smells, sounds. But what I remember most of all is who I met. Let’s be honest, a great view is simply a great view. It rarely makes a trip. We have all been to places not likely to be photographed or written about where we have had an absolutely wonderful time. And that, after all, is the point.