‘Travelling,’ she sighed. ‘So predictable.’
‘What’s wrong with travelling?’
‘Avoiding reality more like.’
‘I think reality is over-rated,’ he said in the hope that this might come across as dark and charismatic.
She sniffed. ‘S’alright, I suppose, for those who can afford it. Why not just say “I’m going on holiday for two years”? It’s the same thing.’
‘Because travel broadens the mind,’ he said, rising onto one elbow and kissing her.
[From: One Day, David Nicholls.]
A dialogue I read on the very first page of the book my friend gave me to take with on my travels. What a coincidence, to have the two main characters acting out the two voices in my head.
I can’t deny; the Americas were a holiday for me. It did too, however, broaden my mind (ask me about it next time we have a drink). But “avoiding reality”? If reality is life in all its forms and harshness, well than (my kind of) travelling shows me that a plenty. Anyway, I have an office now, so save to say I’m no longer on holiday. Every 5 minutes white chalk falls from the ceiling onto my desk behind which I sit in a plastic garden chair.