Traveling Without Reservations

1971 - 1984

Since I started travelling as an adult, in control of my destiny, I often have not known where

I would sleep when I woke up. This included hitchhiking in university days and driving

holidays afterwards.

There are many fringe benefits to traveling without reservations.

Here's some examples of what I'm getting at.

I woke up to a sunny landscape near Athens in July 1971. After breakfast I stuck out my

thumb. At that moment I would not have imagined I'd be detained in a murder investigation

15 hours later in Lamia, northern Greece. I was innocent but no amount of planning and no

travel agent could have produced that story which I've told at least one too many times. It

was the result of a random combination of hitchhiked rides I took that day. So one possible

benefit of no plans, the willingness to go with the flow, is the possibility of experiences that

are way outside the box.

Sometimes there are rewards for letting fate take the helm; you know, let go, let God. On a

driving holiday around England in 1984 my wife and I woke up one bright morning in Canterbury and toured the cathedral as planned. After lunch I was anxious to get to London to see the sights and theater. Margie agreed but was concerned there'd be too much traffic into London and, by the way, where would we stay. With some trepidation we agreed to let go and let fate take charge. Well the traffic wasn't too bad and we found a room near a railway station, as I expected. On our way to dinner we passed the box office for Starlight Express which was new and hot at the time. We got in the rush ticket line behind about 10 students. When a pair of 16 pound seats near the front came up we were the only people in line who could afford them. We had karma to thank for that. 

A different kind of benefit is fulfilling an addiction to tension. I can tell you from personal experience that hitchhiking at the side of a busy Moroccan highway long after dusk because there is no play to stay nearby causes tension. Very unpleasant tension. But you know that's the sort of tension that can be addictive. If you survive. Skydiving anyone?

So what's the hole in my head or my heart that gets filled by travelling without reservations?

Well first off I've learned that nothing terminally bad will happen. I've had to sleep rough, outside that is, or in really pathetic hotels a few times, but hey I'm still here. So that's a comfort. 

Secondly, I fill a need to feel more heroic. I think that's a genetic thing since we're all descended from people who had to be heroic to survive when the world was much more dangerous. So I think I'm programmed to take risks which just aren't available they way they used to be. 

Thirdly, I think I'm addicted a bit to risky behaviour. Maybe I got some attention from my parents when I took risks as a kid. That's addictive.

And lastly, and this is a longshot, I'm not sure I've ever totally accepted my father's death. I was nine and at summer camp when he passed. No goodbyes. It is possible that subconsciously I think he is still alive. So if I arrive at places where I'm totally unexpected, he might be there, and my subliminal soul seems to think I'll be able to sneak up on him. That's something to discuss with my psychiatrist.

February 2020