The idea of how we move, and what we feel as we get there, fascinates me.
Bringing people together, whether it is for work or play, for love or money;
evokes so many memories it becomes hard to define 'Travel' as a single genre.
The Metro in Paris, The Tube in London, the Subway in New York.
They all have their smell, their voice and their feel.
The car was the obsession of the 20th century.
Very few inventions have inspired so much discourse.
From machismo to carbon footprints, Route 66 to the Autobahn, the choice of vehicle often gave the driver their idea of what freedom meant.
Ad agencies thrived on this.
Boys transitioned to men (sometimes) through this.
Some cars became a statement of what was their country.
To many, an airport has its own magic.
I know those who travel by air regularly see it also as a place where the Dark Magic resides.
For those souls, the magic is properly revealed as a cunning sleight of hand - a grand promise too easily broken. It possesses all the bright lights and glittering entreaties of a Casino, with the same despair and desperation, just beneath the surface.
A transitory gauntlet of suffering to be endured before release, only to be revisited, like a recurring nightmare, over and over... and over. Up, Up and Away.