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the unpremeditated tourist
Nov. 25th, 2007 10:02 pmEvery now and then -- but more often than is good for my peace of mind -- I get these emails from I think it's Hotwire, announcing dollar fares for Spirit Airlines, odd tickets to odd places at odd times, just selling the space; even a dollar is better than nothing for them, I guess. I love those emails. The idea that I could travel anywhere at all for a dollar kind of frees my imagination, you know? Suddenly, I see the limitless possibilities in going to a place I wouldn't normally have any reason to visit: Lexington may be a lovely city, but if I don't know anyone there and don't have any particular reason to visit, then I'm not going to put it at the top of my list.
Unless it's only going to put me out one dollar (and of course a day of aggravation at Hartsfield International, I guess we shouldn't forget that). Then suddenly Lexington seems aces to me. I can see myself climbing on a plane the way Enid climbs onto the bus in Ghost World, without knowing where it's headed or what's waiting for her when she gets there. I see myself in a hotel room in a city where no one knows me and I know that even though I would probably stay in my room and order in pizza and watch cable TV, I could do anything, and no one from my real life would have any idea. No one would would know where to find me. I could be anyone.
This fantasy reminds me of a man I used to work with. He was, it seemed to me from the worm's-eye-view of 23, impossibly old, though I suppose he was only in his sixties, and every year, he took a week off work, drove to the airport, bought a ticket on the next flight out, and spent his week wherever the flight took him.
That's what he told me, anyway. It's entirely possible he was just kidding me when he told me about it, possible that he didn't think his reasons for going to Kalamazoo or wherever were anyone's but his own. But I've loved thinking of him doing this, ever since. For fifteen years, he's been my travel hero, going wherever the road leads him and happy to be there.
Maybe one day I'll take Spirit Airlines up on their offer, book a ticket on impulse, fly out on a Tuesday and back on a Thursday in the middle of January with three days' advance warning and no clear idea of what I'll do once I'm there. It won't be like anything I've ever done before, no meticulous timetables and itineraries, no one waiting for me to arrive. It'll be good for me.
Unless it's only going to put me out one dollar (and of course a day of aggravation at Hartsfield International, I guess we shouldn't forget that). Then suddenly Lexington seems aces to me. I can see myself climbing on a plane the way Enid climbs onto the bus in Ghost World, without knowing where it's headed or what's waiting for her when she gets there. I see myself in a hotel room in a city where no one knows me and I know that even though I would probably stay in my room and order in pizza and watch cable TV, I could do anything, and no one from my real life would have any idea. No one would would know where to find me. I could be anyone.
This fantasy reminds me of a man I used to work with. He was, it seemed to me from the worm's-eye-view of 23, impossibly old, though I suppose he was only in his sixties, and every year, he took a week off work, drove to the airport, bought a ticket on the next flight out, and spent his week wherever the flight took him.
That's what he told me, anyway. It's entirely possible he was just kidding me when he told me about it, possible that he didn't think his reasons for going to Kalamazoo or wherever were anyone's but his own. But I've loved thinking of him doing this, ever since. For fifteen years, he's been my travel hero, going wherever the road leads him and happy to be there.
Maybe one day I'll take Spirit Airlines up on their offer, book a ticket on impulse, fly out on a Tuesday and back on a Thursday in the middle of January with three days' advance warning and no clear idea of what I'll do once I'm there. It won't be like anything I've ever done before, no meticulous timetables and itineraries, no one waiting for me to arrive. It'll be good for me.
