| One of the simplest rules of life is to keep moving. Every now and then, it’s nice to venture out and find what’s going on in the real world. Summer is technically over. But there is still time before we’re knee deep in snow and ice. |
| The open road beckons. To just go. To collect oneself. To be disencumbered. Questing. |
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| Yes, you have to be happy in your own kitchen, but there are also times when it is good to get out of the kitchen, especially when there’s nothing for dinner. |
| There are many reasons to say yes to a semi-peripatetic adventure. I believe Socrates called this “The Creative Process.” |
| My first step was to figure out what to wear. In other words, to maintain my own personal style, which if overheard mutterings are to be believed, often is known to defy description. But nothing adds intrigue quite like a soot coloured vintage garment with far too many miscellaneous stains on it. |
| Believe me, it makes quite a statement. My benchmark – consistency. |
| Setting out, I am always driven by the hope that I might see or hear something I’ve never seen or heard before. To furl a bit of rope. To escape, if only for a short while, the deadening quality of Netflix reruns. |
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| Travelling alone allows me to be as insufferable as I like, boring only myself with maps (which I can’t read anyway) and dirt roads. It allows me to be as antisocial and ornery as I want to be. Or more than usual. |
| I am free of the need to entertain or converse, apologize for the weather or the frigid lake water. As if it was my fault. |
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| I’m “The Emirates Effect” companion for myself, as I don’t argue with myself and I don’t disagree. We’ve grown to enjoy each other’s company with vibrancy and care, although sometimes it’s a breeding ground for competition. In other words, a very arousing person with a cache of exhilarating stories to tell anyone who will listen, always making sure to tell the story from my point of view. |
| Secondly, I am free to ignore street signs and landmarks, double-dip in the guacamole, and can sing to my favourite tunes with no one asking to change the playlist or to please stop singing. It’s cathartic. My mind is no longer on guard, mostly occupied with staying on my side of the road while holding my lidless coffee that I have no choice but to spill. |
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| Historically I have missed more turn-offs than many have had opportunities. Squinting at my navigation system, it stares back at me like a threat. I realized what a traitor it can be. On top of that, knowing my drive would be improved by listening to an audiobook, I was confounded by my inability to follow the plot, putting this down to my advancing years. It was only when I stopped for gas that I realized it was on “shuffle” mode. |
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| Nonetheless, solo travel does have its baggage. One, it gives you ample time to consider what you need to work on to improve as a person. And who needs that? |
| And two – there often is bad Wi-fi, the chance of getting attacked by bandits, and a deep longing for fresher Cheetos. |
| People ask me all the time – don’t you ever get lonely travelling by yourself? |
| No, not really. I’ve never had a bout of loneliness that lasted more than a few years. Also, in a world of seven billion people, you’re going to talk to someone you connect with eventually. |
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