What are your future travel plans?
I’m doing it right now.
Instead of waiting at an airport with flights canceled by computer glitches, I’m up in the mountains where it is 30 degrees warmer than home. The food is grown on organic farms nearby and traffic is rare. The only sound I hear while typing this is birds chirping and my dog is at my feet.
I traveled for business for many decades. It was a time when you got service and comfort. Those are long gone now replaced by inconvenience and a general lack of concern by the service and travel industries.
There isn’t much to make me want to get on another cattle car to go wait in lines.
I also grew up in Central Florida before Disney World was built. I watched people pay exorbitant prices to wait for hours in the blazing sun for hours. I went at night or in the 2 weeks that are the Florida winter when my friends who worked there gave me tickets. That isn’t my idea of fun either.
I’d still like to hear from those who like it. It counter balances my position
Delusions of Adequacy 
Really REALLY strange thing happened to me when I retired from the Navy in 1984. I’d shipped my car back to Long Beach and flew there to pick it up and drive to my mother’s place in Indiana where my kids had already gone.
Now I was 44 and had been to a dozen different countries, lived in 8 different US states, and flown across both the Atlantic and Pacific for various reasons.
As I drove out of the impound lot in my Berlinetta, a male voice of great strength and authority said — INSIDE MY HEAD — “The next time you fly in an airplane, you will die.”
Radio was off, nobody was with me, and the voice wasn’t mine. WTF?! Made for a long drive with a lotta contemplation.
Haven’t been near an airplane since ‘cept to pick up somebody at the airport or drop ‘em off to go back where they came from.
These days I go to the Commissary for food and stuff (2 miles), my dentist for the occasional checkup (7 miles), my cardiologist (annually, 15 miles), my dermatologist (every 4 months, 16 miles), and my son’s place out in the boonies (22 miles, maybe 4 or 5 times a year).
Remember flyin . . . don’t wanna do it any more. Remember punchin holes in the ocean . . . good times, but not interested. Remember winters in Bath, Maine; North Chicago; central Indiana; and San Francisco . . . not good memories.
And if I need to ride the rapids in a dugout in Pagsanjan Falls or surf honky tonks in Bangkok or Manila or see ruined architecture along the Mediterranean, I got it all on hi-definition recording in my temporal archives available to replay by hittin a button in the hippocampus.
Hell, I live less than 4 miles from the Gulf of Mexico (West Pensacola) and have been to the beach 3 times since retiring here, just to see if my dogs enjoyed it.
My travel is now mostly health-related, internal, or imaginary.
LikeLike
Traveled for business for many years and now I won’t go near an airport unless forced. I can’t figure out how most of those people in airports are smart enough to be able to afford air fare. Going to find a cabin in the woods somewhere. I hate the TSA but to give them credit most of the people they check don’t belong out in public much less on an aircraft.
LikeLike
I couldn’t agree more
LikeLike