Travel

I’m cleaning out an old suitcase, which is being rotated into reserve duty as a new model takes its place. When it comes to travel, much is justifiably written about the fun and novelty of seeing new places. Meanwhile, by contrast, I know some people who wish they could put their road days behind them entirely, which brings to mind some of the less glamorous realities of the gig.

Jobs that involve travel can be a great escape from the office world. But what sounds good, or even fun, when you’re in your 20s can look a lot different after the years go by. After all, it doesn’t make much sense to swap the air-conditioned tomb for an early casket because the hazards of fatigue, lousy diet, and stress weren’t managed effectively.

These elements, these road hazards, can accumulate one day at a time. I’m seeing an increasing number of people succumbing to these things. This is largely due to the fact that, as my peer group sprouts more gray hairs, it’s starting to show its higher miles, just like an old car does.

I say “largely,” and not exclusively, because there may be other factors in play. I remember when travel was usually pleasant. Now, depending on the circumstances, it can be pretty unpleasant.

Anyway, pleasant might not have anything to do with it: Because of the shifting sands in the job market, mid-career professionals can face the choice of either hitting the road or hitting the unemployment line.

On that note, I’ve recently encountered a number of people who never intended to travel for a living but who got pushed into it by circumstances. I met an engineer who now spends all of his time on the road demonstrating industrial equipment to businesses. I know several computer programmers who have become floating workers, dispatched hither and yon, appearing and disappearing like phantoms at various job sites scattered thousands of miles apart.

This can be an especially large displacement in lifestyle for someone who has kids at home.

One thing about traveling is that if you want to do it, it can work out well, but if you don’t want to do it, it can be a drag.

Work is, of course, work, and being itinerant often means that you don’t get to absorb any real feel for a place. You’re hermetically sealed inside of a generic hotel room, often eating at homogenous chain restaurants, and so on. Sometimes this is the most agreeable way to go, but, on other occasions when you have some time and energy to spare, it can take some effort to break out of the bubble and really get a sense of the local scene.

Conventional wisdom is that modern technology has made the communications aspects of travel easier. That’s certainly true, but I haven’t really seen any evidence that people are happier for it; I suspect that many people have become addicted to virtual escapism.

Here’s something I’ve noticed from my corporate days: Although management ranks usually regard travel as a chore, lower-ranking employees who never get to travel often regard a company-funded trip as a benefit. The opportunity to stay in a nice hotel, eat at business-class restaurants, and see a new city can be a memorable and welcome experience for the rank-and-file. There is much promise in that dynamic. However, some companies manage to screw this up by putting their staff in lousy hotels and by being stingy with travel allowances, thus converting a potentially nice trip into just another grim experience of working for the man.

I long ago accepted the fact that trying to tightly control my travel expenses is an exercise in futility. Sure, at home, where I know my surroundings, I can deftly navigate the quirks in the market. But on the road, I resign myself to the dynamic that comfort and cleanliness carry a premium. I used to try to approach this stuff with a sharp pencil, but I gave up, and I’m back to using a dull crayon.

Overall, as far as travel goes, I’m at the point that economists consider the optimum: indifference. I’m happy to go, and I’m happy to stay. I don’t know where my next trip will take me, but I’m sure that this new suitcase will have its inaugural trip before too long. As for the old one, it will sit peacefully in the garage and re-live its memories, a fate that awaits me as well.