Longish essay musing on Covid but the part that resonated most with me was on travel. I had chance to travel internationally several times during the pandemic. Sometimes to visit a loved one, sometimes to explore a part of the world I have never been to. Traditionally, both have been considered very worthy reasons for travel.
It makes for an memorable experience and one that you reminisce about for years. During the travels with all the complications arising from pandemic restrictions, it was often impossible to convince myself that this was a good decision. During the time spent being with people I love or places I have wanted to see or both, there was some sense of redemption. But there were moments all along when the costs simply did not compute - I wished I had not even bothered. Small aggravations that are part of any trip no matter where and for what reason, would make wish I had the sense to just stay home.
The romantic ideal of travel is to leave as one version of yourself and return another, changed, “better” of yourself. This trip changed me, but not in the ways you might classically expect. I’ve returned suspicious of travel, more confused than ever about why so many people travel. Unsure if most travel of the last few decades makes sense, or has ever made sense or justified the cost.
I am finding it quite difficult these days to embrace the romantic ideal of travel. The level of aggravations have got to the point where its too easy to get dislodged from the feeling, land with a thud on the hard reality of delayed and cancelled flights, lost baggage, arcane entry and exit rules, assortment of paperwork that needs to be on hand and much more. That is after weeks of struggle to book tickets that are reasonably priced without having huge layovers and multiple connections. You arrive at your destination nerves frayed hoping that the vacation will restore them when in fact, reality is far from that.
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