Someone mentioned to me the other day that they love to travel but they hate the actual act of traveling. Strangely the act of travel is one of my favorite things. As long as nothing is delayed and everything goes smoothly sitting on a plane or train on my way somewhere new or home is one of my favorite places to be.
There’s a part in the Devil Wears Prada (the book) where Andrea gets on a plane to Paris and realizes that this was the only place in the entire world where her boss could not reach her and she couldn’t get off the plane if she wanted. Now I don’t have anything like Andrea that I need to be so cut off from but it is a very peaceful feeling to be somewhere where getting where you need to go is completely out of your control.
There is nothing you can do except sit back and relax, watch tv, read or sleep and no one can blame you for being unproductive. And whether I’m coming or going it doesn’t matter, you can either be daydreaming with anticipation of visiting somewhere new or the feeling of finally going home and sleeping in your own bed.
Do you enjoy the act of travel?
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