Going Slow

[Friend #1]: ‘How are you getting there?’
[Me]: ‘By bus.’
[Friend #2]: ‘Aren’t your parents going to take you to the airport?’
[Friend #1]: ‘No, I meant to Poland, not to the airport – what airline are you flying with?’
[Me]: ‘No, er… I’m going by bus – to Poland.’
[Friend #1]: ...Long Pause... ‘Oh. Why?’
[Friend #2] ‘Is that even possible?’
[Friend #1]: ‘How long does that take? Are you mad?’
[Friend #2]: ‘How much does it cost? What’s wrong with you?! It’s not because of your 'environmental beliefs’ is it?’

And roughly so went the conversation with a couple of my friends about a week before departure time. Only, I was going to be leaving by a very different departure lounge to the one they had so clearly imagined. I was catching the Euroline service from London – Warsaw, via Dover, Calais, Holland, Belgium and Germany. In spite of my friends’ consternation, and with perhaps an inkling of self-doubt as to my sanity, being so frequently questioned as it had been those last few days, I was actually quite excited! A chance to pause, reflect, think, dream, mull-over, contemplate and plan before I arrived at my destination a full 24 hours, maybe more, later. I was definitely going to need a window seat. I needn’t have worried; the bus was less than half full.

Not very surprising, you might think? Actually, I was pretty surprised that there were any others like me, stupid enough, sorry, ‘adventurous’ enough, to choose such a mode of transportation. Why the hell bus it? Hell being the supposed defining word…

Money was nothing to do with it; a one-way ticket had probably cost me more than a return flight to Morocco, let alone to Poland… I decided I must be travelling with a bunch of aviophobes, having recently met more of these than I realised were out there. (Perhaps they could form a powerful anti-aviation support network. Something to tap into…?)

But then I realised that this assumption of mine about my fellow passengers presumed something. Something that was similarly presumed by friends, family and acquaintances: that, of COURSE I was going to fly to Poland! How else does one get from A to quite a distant B? Such assumptions are two sides of the same rather persuasive coin – that the idea of flying has so monopolised our imaginations to the point where it no longer becomes a choice among choices, but the only way to travel. So, the only people who don’t travel this way are either a) crazy, like my good friend #1 feared, b) puritans, like my even better friend #2 surmised or c) whimpish, like I myself deduced….

However, I would like to point out that, on this occasion at least, neither a, b, nor c applied to me. Low CO2 was a bonus – true, when I’m in the mood, I like to keep my eco-image as shiny as possible ;) But it wasn’t the main reason I chose to go slow. There’s just something so much more relaxing, time-expanding, psychologically soothing, even meditative, about travelling overland – measuring out the miles as they exist on the ground, sensing the graphic changes in road surface beneath you, seeing the gradual changes in landscape and culture and people as you drive through it all instead of flying over and above it. Allowing yourself the space and time to prepare yourself mentally and physically to a new place, as well as making sense of that place within a geographical, ecological and architectural context, is so valuable and important to arriving invigorated, inspired and excited. You have just driven thousands of miles, you are a little tired, yes, you probably haven’t slept as comfortably as you would have liked to, but you have arrived – at last! You have not been teleported via a giant metal tank, stepping out into generic Airport 2 before you have had time to swallow your imitation sandwich having left prototype Airport 1, a voice-over thanking you for ‘choosing’ easyjet….

But really, there exists a greater choice, dear consumer, not just between BA or Lot (ehem, that’s Polish Airlines to you). Having cycled to Geneva last summer, hitch-hiked to Morocco, eurostarred it to Paris, and, yes, bussed it to Poland, it’s a shame such luscious alternatives are not advertised as loudly by most, if not any, travel agents. But they do exist. Of course, they are not for everyone, and are not even always the most appropriate option – who am I to tell you to get on your bike? But, as long as we can still imagine a world without airports, runways, jumbo jets, or 747s, then that’s a step, admittedly not a long-haul flight, in the right direction. As long as we know the alternatives, then flying can take its place as a choice amongst a genuine selection…

Meanwhile, back on the bus, friend #3, who is supposed to be meeting me at the bus terminal in Warsaw, calls: ‘Which airport are you arriving at again…..?’

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For slow travel info visit: http://www.loco2.co.uk/ or http://www.seat61.com/ :)

Food for thought (Keeping our decisions Conscious): http://www.planestupid.com/ and http://www.marklynas.org/2007/8/28/heathrow-the-most-important-protest-of-our-time