Travel - the 'mental' aspect

Close your eyes and think about travel, and chances are you’ve straightaway conjured up images of some exotic land. Coffee-table books, travel magazines, even vacation photos on Facebook, they talk about people, culture, landscapes, food and sights…essentially everything designed to get you to a particular destination. What tends to get hidden in this overabundance of information is one of the primary reasons you travel, which is the state of mind you go through while on the move. This mental journey within you is no less arduous and interesting than the physical journey to visit a place, and that is primarily what makes it addictive. For if travel was just about seeing a place, why bother going anywhere when you could see so much more, and packaged in a way you could seldom hope to achieve yourself, by simply switching on your favorite travel channel?

The initial emotions are nearly always excitement and anticipation. Seeing beautiful images or reading about the trips of others from the comfort of your own home tends to bring about a sense of awe or grandeur. Oh, I want to go there, you think, and how great it would be to do that…to swim in the sea or see the Pyramids or trek the Himalayas. You think about the joy of travel and the freedom and the escape from your daily drudgery. You feel a tug deep inside you and your heart throbs faster. You tell your friends and laugh and wait for the day of release.

Things change once you step out of home. We humans are creatures of habit. Take away the comforts of your daily routine, step out of that bubble you’ve so carefully and meticulously built around yourself, and things change. You’re gripped by this sudden, unexplainable sense of insecurity. It’s like going for a stroll late at night, you like being out there but you’re worried about what you can’t see, and your own home starts to feel a cozy haven, the lights on your windows warm and inviting.

An interjection here to state I’m not talking about a packaged tour, which essentially aims to give you the pleasures of seeing new places while swapping your old, well-planned but packed routine for a new, better planned but equally packed routine.  The following would apply more to those who tend to venture out on their own. The ones that have a sense of wanderlust and a penchant for exploration.

Travel too, however, has its routines. The more you get into them, the more comfortable you are. You board a flight and automatically think back about your last airport experience, or have the long-forgotten smells of a train come vividly back as you step into one. Dormant images from past travels are awakened and sharpened. You willingly give in to the new but still-familiar routine, and you feel courageous and reckless and walk with a swagger. A new, unknown world beckons with open arms, and you wait like a forlorn lover to fall into its embrace.

Things aren’t quite so romantic once you reach your destination. Familiarity kicks you firmly in the butt and you realize you’re more of a stray puppy, lost, confused and frightened.  Suddenly aware of the stares of the strange new populace licking their lips and waiting to rob you of all you possess. A struggle ensues – you clutch your bags, look around nervously, momentarily forget your research and wonder where to go and how to get there and…especially if you’re an Indian…start asking total strangers for directions.

But this is where the good stuff begins. As you struggle to get your bearings and come to terms with your surroundings, your senses and your mind are wide open. You’re more awake than you’ve ever been and absorb all the little things you normally dismiss. The colors of a cab and accent of the driver, the contours of a road and the demeanor of the people, they’re all new and exciting. You realize with a sudden stab of exhilaration that, finally, you’re in a new land. This is what you wanted and you’re there now. Insecurity & exhilaration are constant bedfellows now, filtering everything that you see and behind most things you do. As a consequence, the world seems more alive than it’s ever been.

And once you’re firmly beyond the confines of your old routine…it helps, obviously, to be in that mythical place that has no phone signal and even…shudder…no Facebook connection…the first thing to go is your sense of time. The world, if you let it, slowly starts to go topsy-turvy. Mornings and afternoons and evenings overlap, Sundays and Mondays are strangely equal, and you constantly need to glance at your watch and check your itinerary to confirm where you’re supposed to be and what you’re supposed to be doing. Or don’t check your itinerary, whatever works.

Another new experience is the people that you meet. Yes, those same ones you have no need of in your hectic day-to-day life and therefore conveniently ignore. They, too come alive in ways you wouldn’t think possible. A lady cab-driver…a rare species at best…gives you a guided tour of the city en route your hotel and hands you maps for free. You start conversations with fellow travelers at a bus-stop and exchange notes with smiling shopkeepers and discover that they too, incredibly, have lives of their own. And if you’re very lucky, you can get taken in by total strangers and for a short duration be a part of their lives and their families.

The paradoxes, however, continue. You could get pick-pocketed on the road and be jeered at by fruit-sellers because you can’t afford a kilogram of their wares. You’re accosted by touts and you’re suddenly that confused puppy again because you can’t figure how the system works. Chances are there’s no Internet connection…or information of any kind…when you need it most, and you’ve missed your bus as a result of asking directions to ten different people. As a consequence you spend the better part of the day at a bus-stop and as a consequence of that, you reach a strange place at 4 in the morning, which is not really the best time to be anywhere but in your bed. A walking tour of the city sounds great on paper and make no mistake, it is a great way to inspect everything at your own leisurely pace, but you also have to contend with tiredness, weariness and, at times, hunger. And you have to then bear with the realization that the historical state museum you were so keen on going to seems a lot less interesting on aching feet and a gnawing stomach, and yet you forcibly go through the artifacts because you spent so much time & effort getting there. It is precisely at these moments that the negatives, those fears and insecurities and fervent wishes for something familiar amidst all the alienation, come to the fore and make you long for home.

So where, then, in all this, is the reward? It’s there, trust me, if only one is willing to embrace everything, the negatives and positives and many moments of indifference, as one big comprehensive experience. While the fact that you’re now part of a fluid, ever-changing experience that makes itself up as you go along can be a reward in itself, there are many concrete instances…the “wow” moments as I call them…interspersed in a trip. And they start to appear more readily if you make them not the objective, but a part of the journey. The sight of emerald blue waters on a beach of powdery white sand, the moon rising over the Himalayas leaving the snow glittering like shiny white tinsel, the intricately carved interiors of a pink mosque, the wind on your face as you ride through palm-fringed roads, or simply striking that great bargain you were hoping for. There’s nothing that can make a short moment rich with experiences quite like travel can. Another aspect of that mental journey, therefore, is a sense that time has stretched out. It’s uncanny; a single day’s travel is so crammed with experiences that you have the very real sensation you’ve been doing this for a week or more. What was completely new that morning seems comfortingly familiar and intimate by nightfall. 

A final aspect of this journey; you return from the trip and get back into the grind. Or attempt to, at any rate. You find, somewhat surprisingly, that time has returned to normal and only a week or two have elapsed since you left. Your office, your home, your friends and colleagues are all there exactly as you left them, doing the same things they did and have always been doing. And here you are, full of the world, your mind abuzz with new thoughts.  People ask you if you’ve had a good trip and you feel like shaking them by the shoulders and telling them “Get out there! There’s a whole world out there, waiting to be seen, touched, tasted, explored. Go out, beyond these walls, grab it, experience it! Your life, your car, your phone, you’re office; they’ll be here waiting for you when you return. But you’ll return a changed man.” But you can’t, chances are they wouldn’t understand and you’re left wondering if you’re crazy or they are.

And what’s left is for you to wait. Work your way back into the bubble while still dwelling in the sense of satisfaction and achievement, and…once you’re completely back into the grind and the sense of elation is all but a distant memory…pick up the next travel brochure and wait for the entire experience to repeat.