We have places to go, miles from here, thus many discussions ensue over the best method of travel. Hubby collects air miles and I hate flying. I'm not sure exactly what this means except perhaps he's planning to fly while I walk.
I admit I hate flying. Too many bad experiences with airlines left me disgruntled. I promised myself that in future travel would be by road, rail or sea. Telling everyone I like to conserve energy is an acceptable excuse, but the real reason is my distrust of the airline industry and my dislike of being treated like cargo.
Travel should be similar to that enjoyed in "Murder On The Orient Express", including special treatment for passengers. Not for me the line up at the check in, where beady-eyed security personnel, alert for knitting needles, twitch fingers itching to pat down every granny that comes their way. I met a ninety-year-old who surrendered her knitting needles to paranoid, security staff who allowed a drunk to bring his mouth on board. I suppose they were right. She didn't look like the kind of woman who would suffer a drunk to remain poke free, if she were forced by circumstance into the seat next to him. No, it was I who had the dubious pleasure of impaling him with a steely gaze until he buttoned his lip for fear of the unknown. I confess, when he mentioned his country could invade our country and win because they don't have gun control and we do, I remarked that we are able to kill them without guns. Thereupon, he fell silent in reflection perhaps of in what way I might accomplish his demise and whether or not I would wait for the airplane to land before I did the deed.
Not for me the notoriety one would gain from stuffing a drunken passenger through an airline window in order to see if he could fly. In future I plan to leave the flying to other, more patient, more profoundly mature, travellers than I.
If you think you aren't cargo, check out a bus. They are as insufferable as the airlines except they don't search you for weapons prior to boarding the bus. On the other hand, they are better than the airlines because they usually keep obnoxious drunks from boarding. Drunks, suddenly attacking while the bus is moving at 100 kilometres an hour, will certainly discombobulate the driver.
Unfortunately for bus or air passengers, bus drivers and pilots, there is no normal way to detect by smell crack, cocaine or insanity. Travellers may not reek of alcohol, but many of them are not sober minded.
Bus seats are extraordinarily modern, which mean they are as miserable as the seats on an airplane. In addition, the fact that the other passengers aren't checked for large knives, pistols and other weapons is something to consider when travelling by bus. On the other hand, grannies with knitting needles are happily knitting while speeding through the night.
I think train travel is more comfortable than bus or airplane. However, the greatest drawback to train travel in Canada is the lack of trains. If you take the trains offered to the tourists its fine, but I really wasn't planning to go to Moosonee to see the polar bears. Even if I was planning to go there, and I might, I can't get a train from Dawson Creek to Moosonee. Nope. If I want to catch a train I have to go to Edmonton or Prince George and that means the bus or the plane. All of this is the reason I think we should drive ourselves everywhere we want to go.
Hubby likes control of the wheel, which means he feels he is in charge of starting, stopping and points in between. I certainly agree that he can hold the wheel, but I definitely want some input into the direction of travel. I see myself as a navigator and I want to navigate towards the most interesting locations. Hubby wants to drive as fast as allowed between point A and point B, as if he's hauling some type of cargo. In summary, I believe our travel affair requires a little more fine-tuning.
Since arrival to Dawson Creek in 1960, Margo Hannah plants, paints and ponders, utilizing thrift and sloth to accomplish all.