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khiemtranI remember being on a flight once. It was a business trip and I was lucky enough to be flying actual business class. The plane was just about to start taxiing, and I remember looking around and thinking that absolutely no-one in business class really wanted to be there. Even a young boy, maybe eight or nine, looked like he'd already been on one twelve hour leg too many as he contemplated an array of puzzle books and gadgets.
It's one of those dark ironies that a lifestyle or a career that does involve travel often means losing the romance of the whole thing. It doesn't take long before "Kyoto" doesn't mean temples and geishas - it means missing your son's football game again. And "Nanjing" just means staying in that awful hotel again, and "Prague" means yet another long flight home after another boring meeting.
On the other hand, I've been realising lately just how much travel defines me as a person, and how much I've missed it. It's not just those weeks or months I've been away, but whole change of mindset that occurs in the leadup to the trip and which persists for months or years afterwards. Learning new languages, seeing new things, having doors opened to new worlds. When I was travelling, I wasn't living in Wollongong, a provincial city on the South Coast, I was living in Wollongong, a part of greater Asia and linked to the rest of the world.
Since I've moved to Sutherland (famously insular even by Sydney standards), I've been feeling the loss more keenly. It will be nice to get out into the world again.
There have only been two times when I've had work assignments and felt like I didn't want to go. The first was a solo assignment to Hong Kong. I remember going for a run before work and enjoying the sun and the fresh air (fresh by Wollongong standards, that is), and thinking that I'd really rather not catch that flight. The other time was two weeks ago, hearing that I was off again. Both times the feeling eventually faded. I'm in the mood for travel again now, and already thinking and seeing things differently.
It's one of those dark ironies that a lifestyle or a career that does involve travel often means losing the romance of the whole thing. It doesn't take long before "Kyoto" doesn't mean temples and geishas - it means missing your son's football game again. And "Nanjing" just means staying in that awful hotel again, and "Prague" means yet another long flight home after another boring meeting.
On the other hand, I've been realising lately just how much travel defines me as a person, and how much I've missed it. It's not just those weeks or months I've been away, but whole change of mindset that occurs in the leadup to the trip and which persists for months or years afterwards. Learning new languages, seeing new things, having doors opened to new worlds. When I was travelling, I wasn't living in Wollongong, a provincial city on the South Coast, I was living in Wollongong, a part of greater Asia and linked to the rest of the world.
Since I've moved to Sutherland (famously insular even by Sydney standards), I've been feeling the loss more keenly. It will be nice to get out into the world again.
There have only been two times when I've had work assignments and felt like I didn't want to go. The first was a solo assignment to Hong Kong. I remember going for a run before work and enjoying the sun and the fresh air (fresh by Wollongong standards, that is), and thinking that I'd really rather not catch that flight. The other time was two weeks ago, hearing that I was off again. Both times the feeling eventually faded. I'm in the mood for travel again now, and already thinking and seeing things differently.
