Part of this is because traveling requires each of us to pay attention to the other. Without outside commitments and other people, we have to cover each other's back. This is true even though much of his traveling has been done for work related purposes: we still spend a great deal of time with each other. (In many ways, the latest trip to Spain was the least satisfactory of the international trips we've taken together.)
He indulges my passion for spending insane amounts of time in art museums and cathedrals, I overlook his tendency to over-schedule and love of driving long distances at as high a speed as possible. (I think he topped 240 km/h driving through stretches of the Autobahn north of Munich.) We've weathered pickpockets, bad climate, stolen passports, Parisian traffic, a homicidal Kiwi sheep-truck driver, and being stranded in St. Petersburg airport under the watchful glare of Russian police carrying machine guns.
We share a traveling philosophy, one of the biggest secrets to traveling well together. (Namely: humility gets you a long way in a foreign country; never pass up a chance to learn something; and, wherever possible, take the road less traveled.) We have developed bywords upon which hang longer stories: "four-hundred-dollar lacquer bowls" and "chinchilla races" and "Bavaria."
We have attended opening night at the Sydney Opera House; watched the midnight sun glinting through the windows of the Marble Palace in St. Petersburg, looking on as a normally staid and reserved Russian physicist danced on the tables; listened to the sounds of angels in Magdeburg Cathedral; pounded on the door of "Dornrosenschlosse" after midnight in a rainstorm, half expecting Count Dracula to answer the door; been moved beyond words by Anne Frank's Secret Annexe and the rusting hulks of beached troop transports on Omaha Beach. We have slept in a French chateau and a German castle, and in small inns and bed and breakfasts from Canberra and Aukland to Bruges and Amsterdam. We even have "our" hotel in Paris (the Hotel de Nice, above a biker bar near the Place de Bastille).
The kids are getting older, and leaving them alone while I go away is getting harder. The disruption to their routine is rough on them, especially on my middle son. And my mom is getting old enough that she's not really able to take care of them for me. So, increasingly, it will not be possible for me to go away with him. This makes me very sad.
Because I would not have traded a moment of our adventures together (well, except maybe a half hour in St. Petersburg airport) and there is no one I would rather travel with.
Happy Valentine's Day, my fellow traveler.
From:
no subject
And yes, very nice post. Having a travel partner is damn lucky.