Tag archives for Robert Reid
Travel may not take us to water that replenish our strength or smooth out our wrinkles, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a kind of “fountain of youth.” One way it works is by stretching time.
Many travelers opt for hop-on, hop-off tour buses to get a quick primer on a new place. As silly as it can look, and it does, it’s a useful way to get oriented when you’re visiting a destination for the first time. But there’s an alternative: biking.
My favorite travel film is probably “Yes Man,” a mostly forgettable 2008 film in which a troubled Jim Carrey vows to say “yes” to everything. What better travel lesson can a film possibly offer? Say “yes” as much as you can (even to two tickets to Cornhusker Central) — and go not with low expectations, but with no expectations.
I’ve been transcribing two boxes of travel journals I keep stashed under my desk. I’m far from finished, but a clear pattern has emerged. Wherever I was making my entry – geographically or mentally – one key part of the trip consistently escaped record: the return home.
No matter how many journals I fill, photos I take, tweets I send, I find that oftentimes I “document” the wrong things.
“Everyone on this train has borderline Asperger’s,” a self-described “double dork” announces somewhere in America. It’s a joke. Except no one disagrees. The speaker is Travis Korte, a data scientist/policy analyst who resembles Christian Bale with gentler features. He’s talking about his fellow passengers — a group of 24 creative, enviably sharp, and decidedly quirky youngsters — and their rail journey across the U.S. with the Millennial Trains Project.
You don’t really know a train until you’ve slept on one. And I don’t mean a half-hour doze between Philly and Baltimore but the real deal: a bunk in a berth, a sliding door with a latch lock, and those WWII-style knobs to turn off your reading light. And when you’ve really settled into a…
If a life can be art, why can’t travel? As we brace for what comes next 40 years after Bowie famously retired his Ziggy Stardust persona on July 3, 1973, there’s no better way to uncover the man who sang about space, fame, and modern love than following in his footsteps.
I used to sort of hate New York. I rooted against the Yankees and saw the “big city” as a scary place of noise, fast-talk, and blood-filled drama. Then I watched “Annie Hall.” And “Manhattan.” And “The Purple Rose of Cairo.”
Everyone’s talking about “traveling like a local” these days. Travelers, bloggers, tour operators, souvenir clerks, industry types in pleated slacks – they all seem to say it’s the best way to get to know a place. Go local or go home, right?
Well, not me.