I’ve been doing a bit of jetting about lately, and not the most fun kind, where you suffer through the trials of coach because you’re going to spend the next two weeks – three months traveling elsewhere. Nope, this is the stuff where you’re wedged into a seat that is too small for the average American, rattled around like a dice in a Yahtzee cup, and spit out into a strange airport, only to do the same thing in reverse 48-72 hours later.
I’m left feeling dizzy, hungry for fresh produce, and wondering where the hell I am after this kind of travel, jittery with exhaustion and disorientation. I loved the idea behind my recent junket to NYC, but the reality was a lot more jarring. And when I shuffled off to the shower at 4:07 this morning, I was none too psyched to be off on another short trip – this one to a writer’s conference. I’m in the process of confirming another four day excursion, also tightly scheduled, a mere two weeks from now and as much as I am thrilled to be heading south of the border, down Mexico way, this is another non-vacation event, where I’ll need to be dressed in a clean shirt and have my networking hat on.
Typically, when I write about travelers, I focus on the free spirited wanderers, my fellow graduates in the school of the road, acolytes of beat poets and Buddhist ascetics. But lately, it seems my solidarity is with the road warriors, those schlepping cases of samples off to Salt Lake City, people in suits or branded polo shirts carrying folders of papers with corporate logos on them. They stride through the terminals, cell phones glued to one ear, dragging a regulation sized carry-on topped with a laptop bag and whoosh, off they go.
On the plane they’re editing Excel spreadsheets, punching tiny emails into Blackberries, reading Important Financial News, or talking intensely with the sales rep from region 9 who they bumped into on the stopover in Minneapolis. They’re in a state of eternal transit, calling back to the office the moment the airplane’s wheels touch the tarmac saying, “Hey, can you reschedule my three o’clock, my connection to Newark is delayed.”
I don’t know if they exist in some timeless space where sleep is optional and the landscape consists of office parks and chain restaurants. I find it extremely disconcerting to wing across thousands of miles to scenery that looks just like what I left behind – parking lots and Starbucks vast swaths of asphalts covered with cars that differ only in their license plates from those I left behind in the dark hours of the morning. If I’m going to tackle the monsters of transit, at least I want to end up some place visibly different. At the very least.
The business nomads seem confident and relaxed, maintaining a neatly pressed look to their silk blouses, calmly taking off their practical pumps in security, standing in stockings while handing over their boarding passes yet again. I admire their fortitude and wonder if they haven’t found a way to apply some kind of mental blinders to the physical and mental turmoil of transit, of unnaturally hauling your body from A to B by sheer force of internal combustion and will.
I never want to loose my sense of stunned fascination at finding myself in the afternoon three – or ten – time zones away from where I woke up in the morning. I wonder if regular business travelers become cavalier about it, if I will become cavalier about it, trading my keen sense of observation in for an ease with changing surroundings. I envy those who travel painlessly, who never get seasick, who fall asleep on airplanes as though they were natural places for humans to nap.
I suppose the price I pay for the intensity of feeling I bring to my travels is the toll that transit takes on my psyche. Usually, I think it’s worth it. Today, as I look across four lanes of traffic at a shopping mall that looks just like the one we pass on the way to the airport by my house, I’m not so sure.
I’ve always enjoyed traveling for work…minus the actual working part. 🙂 (And to think I thought you’d gone to Tampa ’cause someone had hired you to give your own quirky NEV slant on the Series…) 😉
The body is an amazing thing and depending on the person involved you can get used to the travel. Personally I only travel about 30% of the time but I’m not your normal business traveler. I try to avoid the chain restaurants when I can and notice the little things like the different types of shower hardware that are around. There’s an amazing variety of different shower hardware used around the world.
I love how you write! So true….
For the longest time, I was one of those business nomads (gradually changing).
Like Sheila said, fantastic writing!
@Lola – and you seem really good at it, and I KNOW you haven’t lost your sense of observation because I’ve seen it at work. But HOW do you do it? It’s a mystery to me!
Once upon a time, even business travel a more pleasurable. Companies were mostly in interesting downtowns, not in faceless office parks. Chain restaurants were not pervasive, and it was easy to try local restarants and regional cuisines. There were no laptops to lug and no cell phones or Blackberries. Therefore, no expectation on anyone’s part that the business travelers were available to the bosses, underlings and clients at all times (except when actually flying — and some airlines are promising to “fix” that). But then, that was soon after Noah got off the Ark.
Claire @ http://travel-babel.blogspot.com
Love the Yahtzee analogy.
I feel fortunate that I don’t mind traveling. In fact, I’m still excited to get on a plane leaving San Francisco and heading to Ohio, simply because I’m going somewhere new. I call it the Golden Retriever syndrome. “Take me along. I’m tail wagging happy.”
Great post.
I loved traveling for work when I had a J*O*B. It got me out of the office, frequent flier miles on someone else’s tab and an opportunity to see parts of the country I would never choose to visit on my own (Bentonville, AR; Amarillo, TX, Birmingham, AL). I ended up always getting something out of those trips (like finding the most amazing buffet lunch spot in Birmingham and the very best tortillas in the country in Amarillo).
It also gave me the chance to catch up on my magazine reading.
I’m ecstatic to be doing what I’m doing now. I travel for longer periods of time (often for a month) but I kinda miss those frequent, quick out of town jaunts that make me very happy to be returning to Seattle.
@ Beth & Nancy – I guess the difference is in how you’re affected by the time in transit. It’s awesome to get outta town on someone else’s nickel, that’s totally true. And I LOVED standing in Times Square watching everything happen and then, waking up in Seattle – that was awesome. But the plane travel is hard on me, I REALLY don’t like it. I realize that’s contrary in a person who loves to BE new places so much.
You have a strong writing style that is very approachable; I like that. Reading your blog makes me want to travel, but then I remember how much effort it requires. I believe it’s always worth it, but sometimes burnout just happens. I think that’s why I never meditate at home, but ALWAYS meditate on a trip. I hope you can find some ‘newness’ on your trip(s) that will inspire you!
I’ve had times where transits make me more annoyed than the destination makes me happy. And it’s never been for work; sometimes you just get down.
It happens, but seldom for long periods.
@Craig: I think you TOTALLY get what I’m saying. And thanks for that. In spite of the fact that the transit got me down, I did have a great day today – really enjoyed myself. I guess I got over it, eh? Whew.