We are lucky enough to travel more often most people would dream to (except for the readers of this blog, of course). Having returned from two weeks in Spain and Italy just a week ago, I feel spoiled to say that this “Trip of a Lifetime” felt lackluster at times. How is this possible? While driving back to the airport this morning, we pondered the question, “What makes for travel-happiness?”
The ideal answer should be “everything”, but some factors tip the scale towards satisfaction than others. Here are some potential components to this equation:
Time: This does not necessarily mean days on the calendar, but comfort in the pace of the experience. We often find ourselves battling the “too much time” in any one place when vacation days are limited and there are many things to do and see. I remember spending only a few hours in Northern Ireland getting stumped by the accent, climbing the steps of Giant’s Causeway, and touring the murals graphically depicting political unrest. Though brief, these sights and interactions made an impact on me and shifted my understanding. However, happiness suffers when you feel robbed of an experience or sufficient time to immerse yourself in a place. While visiting Florence, we opted for a tour guide to facilitate the few hours we had. His pace felt too slow and yet rushed, dwelling on things we wouldn’t have and skipping over those we would. We escaped and got gelato instead.
Fear: In the moment, fear seems like the worst element of travel possible, but is usually the most discussed and fondly referred to once the danger has passed. I was followed and harassed in Alexandria (and Brunei… and lots of other places), drove like a bat out of hell through the slums of Johannesburg while trying to catch a flight (which we missed), and got food poisoning the day of a flight out of Seoul. All of these produced a few gray hairs, and yet I still joke about sneaking through immigration with bird flu. “Happy” is not the emotion I would have quoted at the time, but I now wear these stories like badges of travel honor.
Reflection: When travelling by yourself, the system of checks and balances goes out the window, forcing you to stay a bit more “in the moment”. This takes a new turn when you are leaving loved ones behind, allowing much more alone time to think about where You are and what You are doing in the moment and as a person. I will be travelling to India for grad school this summer, enjoying the monsoon season from a series of temples and sacred groves of the Western Ghats. One thing I will have lots of time to do is reflect, which I have a feeling will make this trip particularly memorable. It will also be the longest I have ever been away from my son, which will have its emotional pros and cons.
Dissonance: This is different from fear, in that it can swing in either direction towards positive or negative. This may be a personal preference, as many people are uncomfortable with change. For me, both luxury and roughing it can lose their luster with repetition, and strong kick in the pants often shifts my experience towards the memorable. This can take the form of visiting something extremely beautiful like the statue of David, or somewhere extremely emotional like the Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta.
Expectations: This can also swing either way. If your high hopes are let down, even the greatest of situations gets knocked down a peg. Alternately, when you aren’t expecting much from someone or something, anything more than that is a pleasant surprise. Also, an experience looming on the horizon has the potential to taint everything preceding it under the burden of that anticipation. The challenge is managing expectations so that they don’t overshadow the real thing.
Personal Connection: This can be to a person, place or thing. Rishikesh holds a special place in my heart, where we participated in the International Yoga Festival. Waking before dawn to meditate, dining and practicing next to people from all over the world, and meditating with my head on a complete stranger’s stomach was uncomfortable and touching. In Madrid, a restaurant owner plucked our then-six-month-old son from us after a quick hello, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned 15 minutes later having made the rounds of kisses with the rest of the staff. And if any one object has a personal meaning for me, it is the boulder mid-way up the mountain of my backyard which I used to climb. As a small child, the freedom and adventure of these hikes and this rock perpetuated my eventual wanderlust as an adult.
What are your factors for travel-happiness?
