In an e-mail, and friend of mine, who had been traveling a lot over the past couple of months remarked how glad he was to be home.
I really like to travel - even to places not considered travel worthy - Cleveland in March, the Dakotas in February ... However, regardless of how amazing my trip was, I find one of the nicest moments of any trip I take is that final stretch between the airport and my apartment. I'll maybe take the water taxi to Long Warf, or the subway to Quincy Market, and walk up in to the North End - rolling luggage is a must, and mine is definitely very beat up from the brick and cobblestone.
I'm not completely sure why this transition makes such an impression on me. I think in part it comes from the fact air travel to me doesn't really count as time somehow. I live fairly close to the airport, so that moment I am home is a moment to reflect how accessible and small the world really is, while being so diverse and vast.
Love your writing, looking forward to more posts.
Posted by: JT | April 22, 2004 at 01:55 PM