What does it say about a person who has worn down all the buttons on their tv remote so that the channel numbers and function keys are no longer decipherable after only having had it a year? It strikes me as kind of sad.
I’m going to go back to travel now. Why do people travel? What is the psychology behind it? I’ve already discussed my experience of pandering to rich people’s travel needs but it’s not just rich people is it? Why do we travel and why do we choose the places we do?
We tend to travel to places we consider safe. Not just safe in terms of we don’t think we will be physically harmed but safe in that we hope our view of the world won’t be challenged. That’s why so few of us visit places like Africa. If I mentioned going on holiday to Africa I can mentally visualise a dozen people I know pulling a face. Again, that look like a foul smell has wafted into the room. There must be a reason why our top destinations are countries like our own in terms of standard of living and political democracy. We happily and regularly visit America, Canada, Italy, Greece, Spain, Australia. We are afraid of visiting China, Russia, Chile, Peru, Cuba, India. There are some places that are too different for us to 189
comprehend. It is easy to turn a blind eye to bullfighting in Spain or dancing bears in Greece because there is always something else to occupy our minds so we don’t have to dwell on such things. Yet somewhere like India, where you are surrounded by the knowledge that the world is an unjust place, it is harder to dissipate these thoughts (although some still manage to). Some people embrace the cultural diversity they encounter, some mingle with the people and gain an awful lot of insight into workings of a society, others do not.
So, back to the idea of why we travel. My take on this is that we have to feel that we have a chance of escape, albeit brief. We go on holiday because we need to be away from our real lives. We cope with boredom and mundanity because we know that we can soon start planning and looking forward to our next trip. Then we can shower ourselves with treats for a week or two if we are lucky before returning to start the cycle over. If you told an English person that he or she could not have a holiday for two years, they would most likely fall straight into depression. It is strange that we focus so much positive thought on one or two weeks out of a fifty-two week year. Its no wonder holidays seem to pass so quickly and often do not live up to the standards we’ve put on them. We build up images of happiness, they usually include sunshine and laughter. If this by some chance doesn’t happen, the whole thing is a complete failure and a waste of money. We are buying into a dream. We are sold holidays like we are sold cars and clothes, as a life enhancing experience. We put so much emphasis on this that it is no wonder that we come back down to earth if we open a door on a tatty apartment or have a bumpy and arduous coach journey to our resort. We didn’t see that in our minds eye when we looked at the pictures in the brochure.
190
I hear so many people say that they wouldn’t need to travel abroad if there was better weather in the UK. I don’t know if that’s true. If the weather here is good, people still have bills popping though their door in the morning, work pressures are still close to mind, other people around them are still consumed by the reality of everyday life. At home, would they eat al fresco at ten at night, soaking up the atmosphere? I doubt it.
More than likely, if they had a week off work, they would stay in bed til noon and spend the majority of the day and night sat outside the local pub before falling home. Mind you, there is the young British sect that do exactly that abroad, rolling out of bed at noon before heading to ‘Tommy’s bar’ for a full English and a pint of Carlsberg.
I will emphasise here that I do not actually have a solid point to make, it’s just that things like this go round my head a lot. Why do we go abroad? Why do we choose where we choose? What about those who favour familiarity all the time? They go somewhere once. They like it. It suits them. Maybe its somewhere like Tenerife. It has a British feel to it. They meet other Brits. They can get their favourites in the supermarket. The local taverna will make them steak and chips. They feel ‘at home’ as they call it. For others it may be somewhere less British in its feel.
They may mix with the locals, frequent the local taverna which serves fantastic local food. Whichever.
They come home and immediately rebook for their following holiday. Same place, same apartment, same time of year. Year in. Year out. They don’t look any further. This is them. This is what they like. They will continue returning to the same place until for one reason or another they are no longer able to. I’m not saying this is wrong. I’m only questioning why. Is it fear that somewhere else will be disappointing? Why?
I don’t know but I’ve always found it a little strange.
191
If you like a place so much, why not move there?
Because deep down you know it won’t be the same if you lived there? Deep down you know the everyday reality of life would ruin what you have? I don’t know.
We all know that sinking feeling of returning from somewhere beautiful. Of opening the front door to reveal gas or telephone bills on the carpet. Or of rushing to put the central heating on. You have returned to the very place you had so longed to escape from. Of course you feel sad. And to add to it, unless lucky enough to have a job you love, you return to a job you more than likely don’t enjoy too much.
I no longer know where I’m going with this so I’ll stop.
But, to wander off again regarding one of the above sentences. How many people really love their jobs?
Really. I don’t love my job. I don’t even tolerate it. I fucking hate it. Just like I hate all the others I’ve had before it. Why? Because I work my arse off to line someone else’s pockets that’s why. And those pockets I’ve helped line only get dipped into for personal benefit because all my bosses have been selfish bastards. Yes, I should change what I do. That’s what I’m trying to do.
Given the choice of working or not, what do you think the statistics would be? I think you’d be surprised.
I’ve met people who can’t function without working.
I’m not kidding. You must have heard at least someone say ‘I have to work, I’d be bored without it, wouldn’t know what to do’. Are you fucking crazy?
No, they’re not. They just don’t have any point to their lives. They have nothing to do when they are not working other than watching the tv or shopping and people soon get bored of that day in day out (I didn’t intentionally mean to quote Joy Division but it makes my point for me). Give people a month off work and 192
how many would fill the time doing stuff they enjoy, things they find productive, things that give them a real buzz, things that make them glad they’re alive?
Or how many would sit on their arse all day saying
‘I’m bored’. Isn’t this a horrible conclusion.