Losing it in Montréal: Aging Travel
I heard a new term yesterday and I really wanted to write about that, but Adrien spoke to me and in that split-second, the word was wiped from my brain. As I get older, the act of immediately forgetting something I'd like to remember annoys me. It also terrifies me for obvious reasons. Trying to conjure up this word will probably haunt me until I finally come up with it. Or forget what I was trying to recall in the first place.
This aging brain is so full of "stuff". Sometimes that comes in handy if challenged to a game of Trivial Pursuit. Mainly, though, for me my brain is filled with stuff I don't, can't, or won't let go of... a past grievance, an important conversation that I flubbed, a social faux pas, some other awkward moment that I just seem to need to relive. Yes, everyone has these things happen, but my question is why does a brain - my brain - hold onto such things like a treasure? These are not the things I need to recall, especially when traveling!
My memory apparently cannot be counted upon to help out when it is needed for something practical, like navigating a City. While we've visited Montréal close to 20 times - and walked most of that - I'm amazed at every visit how much I've forgotten. Oh the big touristy placed are easily traversed, but the neighborhoods we've walked and wandered in seem totally new.
Sometimes the street names seem vaguely familiar (Prince Arthur, Avenue du Parc, Jean Talon), and sometimes the landmarks are too (St. Viateur Bagels!). The distances between places are totally skewed. What seemed like a 10 minute walk on a past visit, becomes an hour-plus endless walk in the sun this time. I know I'm slower moving, but not that slow.
On foot, in a car, on public transportation, it does not seem to matter. We end up lost and frantic to figure out how to get to our destination. When I was younger, those detours on foot were easier to manage, and even a little bit of adventuresome fun. Being an older visitor to a travel destination makes me long for a good pair of footwear and a transit pass.
And so it was for us this trip. We were lost even in the parts of the City we should have remembered. The stuff that fills my brain was of no help. A map on our phones would have helped if only our eyes were about 20 years younger.
For us, it wouldn't be travel without an opportunity to get hopelessly lost, and to walk blocks - maybe miles (kilometers?) out of our way. Always in the sun of course.
In theory, I enjoy the idea of travel. In reality, I miss my "stuff". And knowing precisely where everything is.There is nothing like 24 hours in airports and planes and a 6-hour time zone change to turn even the most Pollyanna-ish of us into raging maniacs of intolerance for humanity. And that is especially true if you have to connect to anyplace through LAX.
But the physical - and mental - discomfort of getting to and from a new place is not where the value of travel can be found. The value of travel, for me, is found in a new sense of understanding.Speaking for myself, as much as I want to try to fit in - to have that truly locally inspired experience - it will be quite easy to spot me as a visitor. While it can be exhilarating to break away from the familiar, it is disconcerting. Learning to negotiate my environment when it is unfamiliar has a rather steep learning curve fraught with opportunities to look idiotic. Try asking for postage in French. Or coffee in London ("you takin'?") .
Whether it is learning that my northeastern compulsion to life's pace, or aggressive driving, or whatever it is in my daily life that drives me, building more understanding of someone or something different for me comes from travel. This time around I learned that frozen concoctions are indeed delicious breakfast foods. And pineapple juice and champagne do indeed go together.So along with those magnificent views, beautiful sunsets and sunrises, I hope I've learned, absorbed, and maybe take a bit of understanding what once was unfamiliar back with me.
