Travel happy

So, Sunday rolls along and I pick through the papers to pull out the travel section first. Back in the day, I'd scour the front page section and then arts, and travel would be dessert. What is it about these days that I think about travel constantly? Has it become synonymous with indulgence or is that I need escapist fantasies? And I am suddenly so much more sensitive to music that evokes the seduction of travel, like Joni Mitchell's "Hejira" and "Carey".

I've been traveling for my entire lifetime so being on the move is in my DNA. I like to "curiosare" as my Italian friend used to say as she browsed her way through new towns. My senses and powers of observation seem keener when I'm away.

I've traveled solo, with a friend, with my family, with a group. Each experience has its own vibe, and, as it were, its own tune.

Paolo Conte's "Hemingway" is a deeply evocative homage to the solo adventurer, from a time when travel meant great distances, exotic and unfamiliar peoples, a touch of danger and a bit of sadness over the irresistable, addictive, ceaseless draw of travel.

After the delights of Harry's Bar,
And the tenderness of Zanzibar,
There was this road.

After the illusions of Timbuktu,
And the long legs of Babalu,
There was this road.

This silent road that flies away,
Like a butterfly, a flight of nostalgia,
Nostalgia with a taste of Curacao.
Maybe one day I'll explain myself better...

Et alors, M. Hemingway, ca va?