Ralph Waldo Emerson was an American essayist, lecturer, philosopher, and poet who led the transcendentalist movement of the mid-19th century. He is perhaps best known nowadays for his quotes. “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” is probably his biggest hit. A seemingly simple but nevertheless, profound statement.
I guess it’s the constraints of the typical 2 week holiday that seduced people into getting to their chosen destination as quickly as possible. You sit in the departure lounge on a miserable and grey Manchester Monday afternoon, and 14 hours later you’re halfway around the world. On the way, you’ve probably watched a couple of films, read a book, or snoozed. Whatever you’ve done to pass the time, the one thing you haven’t done is let the journey unfold in an organic way. The fact you’re 12,000 miles away in a relatively short time is slightly surreal. You may have followed the journey on the airplane screen and watched your plane cross oceans and continents which will have given you some idea of your path to your destination but you most certainly haven’t experienced the journey in any real sense.
I’m a big fan of a road trip and it’s my idea of travel to heaven. My first experience of this form of holiday was as a child. We drove down from Sheffield to Dover, crossed the channel, and then slowly meandered our way through France. We avoided the Péage and stuck to A or B roads. There was no sense of urgency to get to the South of France. We took in charming towns and villages. We stopped when we felt like it. The journey took almost three days and it was probably my most memorable trip. The crowning glory was cresting the Jura mountains. Way off in the distance was the shimmering mirage-like vision of Mont Blanc’s snowy peak. In the foreground, I could just make out the huge fountain of Geneva gushing water into the air. There were other memorable moments, the discovery of Annecy was one such moment I’ll always treasure. We made a bit of a detour near Grenoble to take in Alpe D’Huez. Imagine the thrill of this 12-year-old boy getting to ride a bike up one of the most iconic climbs in the Tour de France.
Eventually arriving at our campsite I had a concrete sense of the distance traveled and the subtle changes that had unfolded on the way. A real sense of what a 1,000 miles journey meant in terms of architecture, culture and climate, and geography. The journey was more memorable than the actual holiday itself. Being in the South of France made sense in a way that just wouldn’t be possible had we flown. More importantly, it sparked a desire to experience this type of travel more often.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, the destination has become more important than the journey. We get so wrapped up in our processes, in completing each step, that we forget to experience the stops along the way. In my book, the stops along the way are the destination, bit by bit until you reach your goal.
By Dan Frith
