We went to Ohio to spend Thanksgiving with the grandkids, and we were on a bit of a time constraint, so we flew. We actually had decent seats (by today’s low airline standards), and I as I looked out the window as we flew over a number of the Flyover States, I realized I really didn’t want to fly any more.
It’s not a fear of flying, it’s not even a hatred of how all airlines have become cattle cars. It’s just you can’t see anything from the window of a tube at 35,000 feet.
I missed driving.
For someone that grew up dreading family road trips – mainly because the parental stress was palpable – I have now come full circle.
I would have rather been in a car.
You can stop when you want. You can just pull into a hotel and sleep if you want. Sure, it takes longer than flying, but that’s not really a hardship – if you have the time (and don’t have an ocean to cross.)
I think an RV is in my future. Then, I won’t have to fly any more.
Joy.