Americans travel a lot and we don’t give it much thought. We take our car and go. To work, shopping, visiting or just tooling around. Despite the high cost of gasoline, we are addicted to our personal vehicles. Addicted to having them constantly available. To having good roads, even in the most rural areas.
With all the traveling we do, when does it feel as if we have gone “someplace else?” We don’t feel that way even when we commute 100 miles to work. I used to commute as much as 125 miles each way and there was no sense of taking a journey — except for being tired all the time. It was just going to work, then home. Our nearest mall is a 25 mile drive, but it’s not “somewhere else” either.
Flying anywhere, even a short distance, is genuine travel. A boat trip turns a short trip into a journey.
Passage through another element — air or water — signals the crossing of some kind of mental boundary. Maybe a bridge is enough. Going to New York from Boston is marked by passing over bridges. Going to Cape Cod becomes a journey as you cross the Bourne or Sagamore Bridge to the Cape. Going to Martha’s Vineyard includes a 40 minute ferry ride that feels like a voyage. It was always on the ferry that I could finally relax.
Passage over water. Passage by air. Engaging another element — an element other than earth — automatically changes a drive into a journey. Elemental boundaries.
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Categories: Photography, Transportation, Travel
Serendipity Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth 
I love the topic and the photos to go with it. 25 miles from a mall? Oh my… I would find that to be challenging.. 🙂
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It’s very challenging. Even more challenging is being 100 miles from a University and the kind of people with whom we would feel sympatico. It is the big downside for seniors living in rural areas. Unless you like bingo and are churchy, there are few ways to meet people and fewer people to meet … fewer with each passing season.
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I have also taken the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard, after flying and doing lots of walking and (what seemed at the time?) a long car drive. You’re right, you could finally rest on the ferry.
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And take a deep breath. And for those inclined, get a drink. I loved the ferry. It was my “sea voyage” and I had a lot of pretending to do.
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“Passage to Marseilles” (1943-WB). Bogart, Henreid, Lorre, Greenstreet.
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There’s a movie for everything 🙂
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I think for me it’s crossing the boundary from Cornwall into Devon. It never felt that way when I lived elsewhere in England and crossed into a neighbouring county, but leaving Cornwall is different!
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Cornwall has its own history. It was a country in its own right. Like Wales.
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I think maybe that’s why it feels different. I believe all new street signs have to be in Cornish as well now, and Cornish people were a couple of months ago given “national minority” status!
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Now don’t you feel special? And you had King Arthur, too!
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