I learned awhile ago that the “journey” was a significant part of any voyage. Maybe even the most significant part.
I know this is not a new idea. I just Googled the thought and came up with a whole bunch of cutesy quote pictures to back me up (always a good sign…right?)
The clichés are with me.
Usually, my definition of the “journey” has to do with road trips, running for trains, and airplane (mis)adventures. When I was 16, I decided to sleep on a bench during a twelve hour layover in France–and classy is as classy does, that is now the sum total of my Paris experience. Total strangers on train rides have offered insights on communism, abusive relationships, grieving, and the Beach Boys (you know, typical polite conversation). Confusing maps, broken down buses, tight connections and “Oh! Finally! Coffee!” are all memories. They’re good memories. They’re funny.
The actual “traveling” is always at least half the fun.
Currently, though, I’m becoming acquainted with another side of “the journey.” This part is happening at home, in Ottawa. No wheels underneath me. No open road or visible sky. Instead, this part involves sitting on my couch with a mug of hot tea. (I should point out that it’s not really a couch. It’s a futon mattress propped up against a wall. Again, classy is as classy does.). Music is playing, a YouTube lyrics video of a catchy song on repeat for the 10th time. And browser tabs. So many browser tabs.
Train schedules. Tourist destinations. Hostels. Bus fares. Airline discounts. Local blogs and forums. Festival lineups.
Oh-my-goodness, am I really doing this? Am I really taking a month off to travel across Canada? More importantly, how do I even start planning for this?
I have a plane ticket to Halifax. I have a 21-day train pass, scheduled to start as soon as I’m done with the Maritimes. My family and friends across the country have been warned.
I’m scheduling, scheduling, scheduling. It’s a lot more work than I thought it would be. It’s a whole lot of fun. And it’s definitely part of the journey.