Travel is never easy
With my coat, mitts and toque close at hand, and a shovel near the exit, I’m prepared. The car has the other tires installed and the oil changed. Come on winter! Bring it on.
I shouldn’t tempt fate.
Right now, I’m waiting for the train, sort of. On my “to watch” list, a movie produced in 1932: Shanghai Express. Not sure if it will bring back memories of travel on the Ocean Limited (in Daynighter class), but the election fun is over. Time to retreat into the archives, thanks to YouTube. No need to flash the credit card for this ticket.
Travel is never easy, and the airline industry is a special sort of hell. One major firm now intends to charge for using those overhead bins. I don’t have direct experience, but weren’t those bins included as a passenger courtesy rather than an additional revenue stream. Consider the whole game.
You get to take off your shoes and undergo a scan, before clambering into a shrunken seat space, devoid of belongings. Food is an option, and I doubt they even hand out the freebie peanuts any more. If the airport is running at capacity, you could sit in an enclosed space for who knows how long, waiting for permission to take off. At either end, expensive parking lots or impossible taxi trade. And yet people travel, voluntarily (according to my mother and sister). I don’t understand. Wouldn’t beating yourself with a wet mop be “just as much fun”?
I’m willing to accept travel by Google Streetview as my alternative method of seeing the world.
(the car now has 111300km).
