The Bus Blog (on Movement)

Some people hate the travel part of traveling. Hi Dad.

I love it. 

Staring out the window of a bus or train watching the world go by… the energy of movement… the excitement of being en route? That’s where the name “ONWARDS” came from.

The feeling of I’m on my way? It’s addicting.

Maybe dangerously so.

On Public Transport

I come to you live from the bus — an insanely comfortable bus, I might add — from San Miguel de Allende to Mexico City.

Bus routes in Mexico are generally quite reliable, although tickets are more expensive than a budget traveler might like to imagine. This one cost me 544 pesos (around 30 USD) for a 4 hour trip. 

I honestly can’t complain however, because this bus seat reclines further than any premium economy airplane bullshit ever has and is more comfortable than most hostel mattresses. The AC works just fine, and there are screens in the backs of the seats. 

Too bad I won’t use the screen as I’m going to be asleep in less than 30 minutes. (Me, on any public transport ever. No matter how comfortable, I cannot keep my eyes open. Let’s chalk in up to that feeling of motion, rocking like a baby.)

I love public transport — even when it’s a pain.

Fine. Maybe “love” is a strong word. But I genuinely do enjoy the experience.

Seriously, there’s something to be said about a crammed local bus. It may be sweaty and unpleasant and loud.. but the experience is real, and I appreciate that.

Public transport — specifically metro lines — are the veins of a city. They say a lot about a place. Most definitely about it’s people. 

I’ll never forget the moment when I stepped into the Prague underground system for the first time. I was like, oh, I’m in the wrong place. This is the train station, not the metro — it’s so pretty! But alas, the metro it was indeed.

So it goes, Prague remains one of the most aesthetically pleasing cities in the world, to me.

—

On Other Forms of Movement

• Walking

I walk whenever I can, however far I can.

(Says the New Yorker in me clinging on for dear life.)

Just the other day, I chose to walk 30 minutes from the bus station to my hostel because:

1. I wanted to see the town instead of hopping on another bus that would probably end up taking longer than my legs and

2. Doing so in the midday sun with my bags counted as my workout for the day.

Easy decision.

Sometimes, simply walking is my activity of the day. Is there any better way to get to know a place?

• Flying

I’ve written about flying before. It’s not my favorite form of motion. But I appreciate it.

I appreciate the anticipation involved in the process. It’s the most physically limiting mode of movement, so the anticipation of arrival in your body is more palpable. (Working theory.)

I also appreciate the paradox of being suspended in midair and moving so fast that you can’t even feel it.

Side note: I can’t wait to take the bullet train in Japan one day.

• Thinking

While these past few weeks of travel have seen me physically moving slower than previous trips, my mind is moving faster than ever. It’s absolutely racing.

Two weeks from now. Next month. This summer. Even next winter.

I recognize this, and fuck, I’m meditating in order to mitigate it, but it ain’t working.

Physically, I’m on a bus in Mexico. Mentally, I’m surfing in Sri Lanka. Or whatever.

I’m happy to be here. I really am. I love this bus. It’s the best bus in the world.

But my mind just won’t stop moving.

—

I did in fact fall asleep shortly after writing that. It’s a superpower of mine. Or maybe just a testament to how comfortable I feel while in motion.

I said the feeling of movement is addicting. And the connotation of addiction implies a dark side, or at least a downside. 

If you’re always craving motion, it’s easy to lose taste for stillness and appreciation of the present — place and moment. 

See these wise words by Dr. Dog:

”Are you moving much too fast? 

And the good times that just don’t last 

If you’re always on the go

Make an angel in the snow

And freeze.”

And of course, Billy Joel:

“Slow down you’re doing fine

You can’t be everything you want to be before your time

[…]

Too bad, but it’s the life you lead

You’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need

Though you can see when you’re wrong

You know you can’t always see when you’re right.”

How do I reconcile this? A love for movement and the desire to deeply experience presence?

The only way I know how, I guess:

ONWARDS,

Mag