Pulling a Forrest Gump (...um, running.)

I have a somewhat unfortunate habit of buying a ticket when I "crack," or feel myself in danger of it. Bus, plane, train, ferry. All are among a long list of viable options. Bicycles are cheaper but temporary, as they don't get you as far as quickly.

It's funny, really - geographical relocation can certainly help to some extent, and of course there's one of my favorite quotes, Paul Theroux's "travel is flight and pursuit in equal parts"... but there's only so much one can "flee" from. There's even less one ought to flee from. And so, while staring semi-vacantly out the window of the bus, plane, or train, or resting against the rail of the ferry deck (as the case may be), I very often find myself thinking about exactly that which I'd hoped not to think about. I know this, yet still I buy the ticket. Maybe the part of me that is buying the ticket is also attempting to deny the fact that many things - thoughts especially - can be inescapable. 


Or maybe there really is something to it, even just a bit. A distraction, perhaps. A determination to not get mired down in something I'd considered myself in danger of getting mired down in. A revitalization of that continuous undercurrent, yearning for new places, new people, new thoughts, new challenges. A fresh look at the "old" places, people, thoughts, and challenges. The last of that list especially (it's broader, I suppose). Even given a tight budget (generally the case), I am more likely to thrive on basmati rice and chicken tikka masala - both of which I now have plenty of experience whipping up - in order to save money for travel/escape than I am to do otherwise.


Thankfully, I've got a large canvas sack of rice, complete with sturdy handles to make it travel-friendly.