Where Saints and Pigeons Trod

Am I getting older or is travel getting harder? It took, including layovers, 30 hours before we arrived in Rome. So I had to ask myself, is it worth it? Recently, I watched a special on virtual worlds, and I began to wonder, "Could a virtual world fulfill my travel 'needs?'" It would certainly be cheaper, safer, less tiring, and possibly more educational. But what would I miss out on?

1) Bonding time with family or friends: Getting lost and ending up on an active volcano, coming face to face with a komodo dragon, or singing U2's "The Sweetest Thing" at the top of your lungs while you drive down I-40. From the ordinary to the extraordinary, these are the times I'll be talking about with friends for years to come. "Remember the time . . . " But could I convince my friends to meet up with me in virtual Rome? Or to slay a dragon with me on one of those online video games? and would it be a bonding experience, or would it be too lame and predictable?

2) The food: This used to be the biggest draw for me. Now, I find home cookin' to be the best, especially since you can find a recipe for anything on the internet. And I've come to appreciate the power of my imagination. That's where I find the best tasting gelatto. Over the years, my memory has enhanced the taste. mmmm . . .

3) The magic: I can read about the David. I can see pictures of the David. So what would make me want to travel to Florence and stand in line for 2 1/2 hours in the heat, just to see the David in person? If you've seen it yourself, then you know what. No copy, not even a photograph, can capture what Michelangelo did. There is something magical about walking through those doors and seeing with your own eyes as the light hits this magnificent work of art. And it's as though Michelangelo himself is there, ambling through the crowds, marvelling at the fact that the art he created 500 years ago is still standing. The only other place I can experience this is in my own memory and imagination. So when I'm sulking because the Renaissance never made it to Indonesia, I can close my eyes and walk back through the doors of the Accademia. I can admire the perfectly sculpted muscles of the David's legs, and the way the veins pop out on his hand. I can see the far-off look in his eyes. Because I've been there.

So what gets you packing?