Sunday, February 04, 2007

No Keys

When you get on the road for long enough and start to become a serious traveler, you eventually notice that you're missing something. It may take you a while for notice. At first, you may have a queasy feeling that you're forgetting something important, like perhaps your bags or your passport.

And then it hits you. You're a man with no keys. You have no car keys, no appartment keys, no letter box keys, no office keys, no garage opener, no access cards. You don't have to worry about losing them, forgetting them, getting them stolen. You're a free man. Keyless.

By the way, do you know the difference between a tourist and a traveler? A tourist doesn't know where he is and a traveler doesn't know where he's going.

No matter how far a tourist goes, it's the same place. If it's Tuesday, it must be Luxor. It doesn't really matter because he goes to the same Hard Rock Cafe and McDonald'd and Pizza Hut. The sights change, the local waitresses don't understand him as well, but he's basically always in the same place. He never really left. He has a schedule and he sticks to it. He's in a momentary state of geographic displacement.

A traveler may have a vague schedule, but he knows he won't stick to it. Things will happen. Ferries will be missed, planes will be canceled, buses will break down, passports will get lost. The hut on the beach will beacon to stay a few more days, the friends on the road will share tips about a detour not to be missed, a taxi driver will share a secret about a little village where the rest of his family lives.

It's fine to be a tourist. Sometimes, that's all you have time for, and it's better than staying home. But it's really nice not to have to worry about your keys.

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Wednesday, June 02, 2004

The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.


Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Why?

Why would you choose to leave behind comfort and certainty?

Maybe you want the see the world or take a break from your routine or learn about other cultures, maybe so you can better understand yours. Or maybe you have no good reason at all. Maybe it's more a compulsion. An itch. A longing.

No matter, if you start thinking about it, you are ready. Just go. Travel will do your soul good.