Quandary

The Acropolis is a fine sight indeed, a group of us stopped there on our way down to the Greek Islands on a motor cycle tour. Crossing the Corinth Canal, constructed by Nero I think, was unimpressive unless you stopped, leaned over the wall on the side of the road and let your mind wander as to the logistics and surveying that it must have entailed. As straight as an arrow as far as the eye can see. In the back of my mind I constantly search for a refuge to hole up in when the chit hits the fan here....... that's a quandry.>>>

"The destination ends up being the framework for what unfolds."

That's pretty succinct. You have a special gift for that. So, with that in mind, along with what Woody and Jed have said, I conclude that you have to actually go.>>>

It seems to me that the journey relies on the quandary.

The destination ends up being the framework for what unfolds.>>>

"The place may be best visited without a dream or a plan."

I always believed that. Still do, really. One evening my wife and I were talking to another couple over dinner and the same subject came up and I voiced that same opinion. I juiced it up a little with some pontification about the benefits of the spontaneous over the sterility of sticking to a pre-conceived itinerary. The woman seemed ok with the notion, but the guy started fidgeting in his chair and finally blurted out, "Yeah, reminds me of my dad...he'd bundle us all in the car and take off for a vacation and when we'd get there, whatever we wanted to do was always sold out.">>>

I think the place is what you make it. All I ever wanted to see was the Taj Mahal but when I finally got there, I was so dog tired, sick of the beggars, sick of the sight of bodies in the streets, left to decompose where they died, that all I could do was snap a couple of shots and get out. I wish I could re-visit now. The place may be best visited without a dream or a plan. Like a meticulously planned party that fails to live up to expectations, as opposed to nipping out for a quick pint on a Friday night and ending up staying far longer than intended because of the unexpected good time. Introspection figures largely into where you feel most comfortable I think. A base camp on Everest would'nt be my cup of tea. The beaches of Lacanau Ocean I will always long for. I love museums, but can only take so much due to the enormous amount of information and the mental exhaustion that creeps up and turns you to face the exit for a sandwhich and soda. But when my parents would act as tour guides for visiting relatives, exchange students etc who wanted to head to Madame Tussauds or the palace, I would head straight for the tranquility and solitude, the peace to be found in St Pauls Cathedral or Westminster Abbey. >>>

When you plan and dream about a place, read about it and see the pictures, you develop an image of the place. With rare exceptions the one thing the fantasy lacks is the gritty reality of the place. You only experience the grit by actually going there. But that's OK. Usually a little grit is good. It brings the place down to earth.>>>