Other Travellers

A few weeks ago, I came across a great article by Mike Carter in the Observer. Suffering a mid-life crisis he's decided to follow in Ewan McGregor's fabulous biker boots and head off round Europe for the summer. The link is to his blog.

It struck a cord because I also have a travel bug. I also have no money. So where as I would really like to go back to Trinidad for the summer, I take buses round Norwich instead. No discernible difference to be sure; but it's movement. And rather than looking for comfort in the different, I'm finding it in the familiar.

In Public Places - Private Journeys, Ellen Strain distinguishes between a tourist and a traveller. Essentially, a tourist is looking for a good time, while a traveller is searching for the "authentic". She makes a very interesting point that both are protected by the experience they're looking for by the coach or train. The metal body and air-conditioning protect both from the environment they are moving through. A bubble which protects them from the heat, flies and smells. The tourist/traveller watch the world go by throught the frame of a window; the environment they move through, they experience like a movie in a theatre. Further distance is provided by the ever-present camera. She called it the distantiation of framed mobility.

I found the first few chapters of her book very thought provoking. She made some very interesting links to Baudriallard and his concept of the simulacra and certainly having experienced the 'real' Turkey last year, I am inclined to agree with her. Tourists want their perception of the 'real' not the reality experienced by the natives of that exotic country. They don't want to see the Masai living in brick houses, with mobile phones and i-Pods. They want Tesco bacon and Asda sausages in a Muslim country.

I'm finding a sense of connection, not distance, in my circuits round Norwich. I'm beginning to recognise people and look out for people. The big, hard man with the small black puppy is continuing to woo people at the bus stop. Other passengers and I exchange smiles. The bus drivers still pop up to see if I'm alright at the university stop, and then promise to wait for me as I snatch a comfort break during the 10 minute wait at the railway station.

While I haven't got a clue how this is project is going to turn out, I do know I'm enjoying the ride.