Why Travel?

on the roof of my Oaxaca apartment

Since my retirement, I have spent a lot of time in different cities. I have sailed through the Panama Canal, lived in Paris, visited the lands of my ancestors, come to love Brooklyn more than Manhattan
and found myself another home in Oaxaca. Recently, I had a discussion about the purpose of travel.

While sight-seeing can be a reason for travel, I believe that coffee table books and travelogues do an adequate job of depicting foreign lands. Travel without a personal connection is quickly forgotten.
I have cruised into lots of ports of which I have no recollection. Travel is an opportunity to experience different people and situations.

I remember the grocer on the rue Saint-Jacques in Paris. He gave me a photo of the neighbourhood when I left and he was always very kind to the man who slept outside. I remember the wine and appetizers that the neighbours shared on Avenida de la Constitucion in Oaxaca almost as well as I remember my friend's reaction when she encountered the cockroaches during her nightly trips to the bathroom.

For me, travel is a lot like reading. It opens up parts of me that I may not have experienced or considered previously. It transports me from my familiar roles and let's me experience myself in a different context.

Travel sometimes poses challenges. The wifi is really poor in this apartment. Uploading photos is painfully slow. But I guess I'm learning to be patient.