Personally, I’m thinking of my most recent commute from Durham to Charleston, a 4.5 hour drive I typically enjoy. I listened to some music, talked to my parents, read a little bit until the motion sickness got to me. Oh, and I slept. Lots of sleep.
Until this summer, I had never traveled to an area without widespread paved roads. I knew the roads were going to be bumpy and I expected lots of dust, but I don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for this. We have great drivers who know how to make the ride a smooth as possible--really, the maneuvering they do is truly something to behold--but there’s only so much to be done when some of the roads are simply riddled with sunken holes and trenches.
At first, the roads didn’t really bother me. They’re just bumpy. That’s all. But by this point in the trip, I’ve realized all the comforts that accompany paved roads--a smooth journey, relative silence, clean shoes/clothes/bodies from a lack of dust, the ability to read, nap, or write in one’s journal.
I’ve frequently found myself wondering what I’ll be thinking on the drive home from the airport when I’m finally back in Charleston after three flights over two days of travel. Am I going to be bedazzled by all the lit streets and businesses so late at night? Am I going to find the silence and stillness of the journey uncanny? Or worst, am I going just sink comfortably back, into the silence, the stillness, and the air-conditioned vehicle, forgetting everything I had just left behind?
No comments:
Post a Comment