the art of not travelling

While on holiday, I read the book by Alain De Botton “the Art of Travel”. It seemed like he was not a fan of travelling. He quoted various travellers and philosophers like Charles Baudelaire, who was less interested in travelling than in the apparatus of travel, and Edward Hopper's paintings of hotels, roadside eateries, gas stations and so forth. It was interesting to read it while travelling. “For the traveller, most objects don't come affixed with the question that will generate the excitement they deserve. There is usually nothing fixed to them at all, or if there is it tends to be the wrong thing.” I agreed with him that often, the anticipation of travel was better than the actual place. It is almost as if the anticipation is the actual utopic destination of travel. We are somehow blind to the mundane details of travel. We see the palm trees and white beaches but not the pressing heat and flies. We somehow forget that some mundane daily rituals still need to occur when on holiday. At various tourist sites, we are inundated with facts like, “the church was built in 1412 with marble stone…”, which, has little meaning and will be forgotten within the next 10 steps. Facts like that have little meaning to the traveller and therefore add little to the travelling experience. De Botton then spoke of a visit to Provence after seeing Van Gogh’s paintings of the region. His tour visited various places resembling Van Gogh’s paintings. This allowed visitors to experience those places in different ways – the quiet cafes and cobbled streets brightly lit by gas lamps. He highlighted the importance of art in opening up perspectives and exaggerating various aspects of situations and objects, to illustrate the artist’s perceptions. In painting and writing, details are noted and better understanding of the observed ensues. This understanding of detail will then lead to further appreciation of the object. Indeed, you cannot draw or describe an orchid without studying it closely. The most thought provoking part of the book for me, was the last part. If travel is to enrich experience, it would surely make sense to pay similar expectation of wonder in our daily surroundings, to serve the same purpose. De Botton mentioned Xavier de Maistre who undertook a journey around his bedroom and published an account of what he had seen in Journey around My Bedroom; this was followed by a sequel Nocturnal Expedition around My Bedroom. I loved the conclusion he made "the pleasure we derive from journeys is perhaps dependent more on the mindset with which we travel than on the destination we travel to".