We were vacationing in the Austrian alps. Our cabin was at the end of a small, winding road, on the edge of a pasture with views of the valley and the mountains beneath. When we were not learning how to milk a cow or how to use a scythe, we were sitting in front of the cabin talking. Occasionally, hikers would walk by, look in our direction, and we’d either wave at them or heckle them.
One evening, as the setting sun was coloring the valley blue and the mountains pink, we were distracted from our conversation by a minivan making its way up the serpentine road to our cabin at top speed. Its tires were screeching at every turn and the frequent gear shifts disrupted the evening quiet. After a few minutes, it arrived at the end of the road and slowed down, but it didn’t stop. The sliding door opened and half a dozen Japanese tourists jumped out of the moving van. They ran to the side of the road to snap a picture of the sunset. In the meantime, the van completed its turn. The tourists ran back and jumped in, the van accelerated, the door closed, and it made its noisy way back down the mountain.
I’m guilty of Blitz travel myself, especially when I travel for business. I fly into a city, take a cab to some meeting, have a meal at a generic restaurant and fly out again without having experienced anything that makes the place special.
It’s easy to dismiss traveling that consists of driving a car down an interstate, spending time in airports or staying at a chain hotel. But what’s good travel? Here’s my definition: Good travel creates opportunities for adventure. The magnitude of the adventure doesn’t matter much. It could be small, like having a conversation with someone local who you wouldn’t otherwise talk to, encountering something unexpected, but not necessarily unpleasant, outdoors, or discovering a new sight, sound or flavor you wouldn’t experience looking at photos or movies. This definition excludes most curated luxury travel, cruises and resort stays.
Nehaveigur 