Near or Far, With or Without

On Staying Put, Traveling Solo, British Reads, and More Signs of Spring

The more creative side of Travel Writing generally takes two forms: setting off on an adventure or a deep reflection on Place. Both can be rewarding, the latter often even more so.

A Case for Staying Put

While meeting for coffee, an acquaintance came in flustered and anxious. I wasn’t sure coffee was going to be the thing for him; he assured me it was. He said he was preparing for a drive that would take him several hours away. He said he didn’t care for travel, that it got him all out of sorts.

People prefer different sorts of travel—town or country, domestic or foreign, fast-paced or leisurely, mountains or sea—but most want to get away when able. There is a palpable excitement in the days leading up to a trip: packing, purchasing a new item or two, creating an itinerary. Growing up, we had “car snacks” to look forward to; my mother would procure them before we departed. My father is a devout believer in hitting the road early, ideally before dawn, and then, once on the road, stopping only for petrol or emergency. And there better not be an emergency. So we had car snacks.

But I digress. My coffee partner mentioned Immanuel Kant, of not needing to go beyond 10 miles. “What else could I need?” he said. “I have my family, my work, my coffee shop, I can go on walks, I have my books. There is no reason for me to travel.”

Travel is such a motivator in my life. I’m always thinking about the next trip. (And in reality, the next two or three or five trips: our kids are growing fast and we only have so many school breaks left, especially the older ones. I need to be diligent, to plan with foresight…) But there was something so true and comforting in what he said.

Many of my favorite writers are writers of Place: Thoreau and Twain, James Baldwin and Wendell Berry, Marc Hamer’s books on gardening, Jane Austen’s Hampshire, Steinbeck’s or Gary Snyder’s California, Virginia Woolf’s London or Cornwall. To have your family and work, books and walks, a coffee shop—what else could one need?

A Case for Traveling in Tandem

Another aspect of travel I’ve been reflecting on is who we travel with. In my life, travel essentially takes two forms: with wife and kids, and the occasional trip with just wife. Rarely do we have solo travel. But about a month ago, I went to Chicago for a few days, though the nature of the trip was melancholic: to honor the life of a friend gone too soon.

But there I was. I had lived in the city for three years, and so I know it well, and there are a few places not available at home that I always stop at. But then the hotel reminded me too much of the first apartment we had lived in. I have nostalgia for that place; it was good for us then, but I wouldn’t want to repeat it. And the hotel was far from the excitement and clamour of the city, and it had passed its prime. I’m not sure any travel companion could have salvaged it.

This summer I’ll have essentially six consecutive days of solo travel, and I’m undecided how to feel about it. I’ve long loved Pamela Druckerman’s phrase “a convivial solitude.” Being sociable while also maintaining a sense of separateness. Reading with Cassie at the coffee shop or in our home, the fire going, or sitting out front, waving at passersby, a few words exchanged. Maybe we will read a passage to each other, or a friend will stop by and chat for a few minutes. But mostly we are together, doing our own thing.

I think the ideal trip for me would be to travel with Cassie but then to go our own way for a bit, doing the things that fill us up, and then meet back up for dinner or drinks, to see a show or hear music, to sit on a park bench, watching the people, talking about our day, about something we’ve read recently, about the world as it is, as we hope it to be. Oh, could it be Central Park. If not, the park down the street, or even our front porch. Our front porch would do just fine.

Michel de Montaigne (whom we have to thank/blame for writings such as this, blogs, and essays in general), reflecting on an extended trip, said, “I felt only one lack, that of company that I liked, being forced to enjoy these good things alone and without communication.”

I can’t think of a single place I’d rather travel to alone. A convivial solitude, perhaps, but not alone.

Photo taken by one of our kids; I can’t remember which; likely our daughter.

Miscellany

British Reads 2025

In preparation for the summer trip, I’m reading British this year (though not exclusively; come on, that would be overly rigid). And because it is me, this includes many re-reads. I’ve enjoyed returning to Nick Hornby. I first discovered him in my late high school/early college years. Back then, I read Fever Pitch (I had a terrific UK copy that I lent out and never got back; it might be why I’m still reluctant to lend out books), High Fidelity, About a Boy, and How to Be Good. Hornby was the first contemporary adult writer I felt I had discovered, and I devoured his work. I just finished re-reading About a Boy (Hey! it holds up) and ordered a new copy of Fever Pitch that I’m reading. I’m also meandering through David Nicholls’s You Are Here, about two people hiking the Wainwright Coast to Coast Walk through northern England. It’s good.

Signs of Spring

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers,” from Anne of Green Gables, gets posted and reposted each year, and I feel that too, but I’m even more grateful to live in a world where there is March, April, and May. I know for those with allergies it can be dreadful, rescheduling baseball games can be a nightmare, and the occasional April snowshower is downright depressing, but I love the rest of it. From cold and dreary March days to the surprise 70 and sunny, to the sporting events serving as bellweathers for the season: the Masters, the first Saturday in May, the 500 to close it all out. What a stretch. But most of all, I love the first signs of spring. Our neighbor has a slew of daffodils, and one of my favorite local parks will have tulips very soon, and then the magnolias and crabapples, and the grass will green, and the creeks will run, and….

The French Connection

In looking back over this, I see I quoted two sources on the French way of thinking/living. So we will end where we began, with considering the two forms of Travel Writing. To Staying Put, but also To Leaving!