I’ve been reading more this past year than in recent memory – currently, ‘Who Needs A Road’, by Harold Stephens & Albert Podell – about their Trans World Record Expedition back in 1966 in a Toyota Landcruiser and a Willy's Jeep. I also recently finished Rory Stewart's best seller, ‘The Places in Between’ about his solo walk across Afghanistan in 2002 in the middle of winter; braving snow, mountains, bandits and solitude, with the 120 pound Bull Mastiff that he was ‘given’ along the way – pretty damn inspiring and a real look inside Afghanistan, one that almost no one will every be able to do as he did. I also caught up on IanWalk’s blog about his journey from Tierra del Fuego to Alaska, also alone and on foot, inspired by a llama. He got to Columbia and had to break back to the States for lack of funds and is now substitute teaching somewhere outside of Portland. 
Reading about the Trans World’s trek through Egypt reminds me of the time I went to Egypt back in the early 90’s to shoot travel videos. They are all suffering from something they call ‘Cairo colon’, something I remember very vividly. We were in some government office building trying to get all of our confiscated video gear back when it hit – a god awful green spew coming from both ends of my body. Five days had already passed and we hadn’t shot one frame of video. We did ride horses across the Sahara, gambled at the posh tourist hotel across from the pyramids where we were staying, posed for pictures with camels in front of the pyramids and woke at dawn to the wailing calls to prayer. All I remember wanting was to stop shooting all of the tourist shit and pop into one of the smoky cafes that we rode past on horseback down some back alleyway, the back route to the desert. That’s what I wanted to shoot way back then.
And here I am, living large enough in BA with as many comforts as could be hoped for anywhere – a life that I could barely afford back in San Francisco, nothing romantic about it at all, more mundane than anything. And I’m sleepless, restless… longing for the road, longing to travel – for perpetual motion – for the journey itself and I’m mad at myself for wanting. And for perceived laziness and for such freedom to dream up such discontent.
2 comments:
boredom is a luxury. it means that you are amongst the minority of people in this world who doesn't have to work every hour of the day to put food on the table. it means that you have time with your own thoughts. it means that you can imagine doing the things that you pine for.
we get bored but few stop for a second to realise boredom is a luxury. good on you greg - you did.
Edd is excactly right. He makes a good thing a bad thing then a good thing again. Maybe you are longing for responsibility larger than yourself? Or upon facing that, maybe you will realize you can live comfortably caring for only a small dog named Cheeto.
Great pics and writing GR.
Pete
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