The Art of Being in Transit

Enjoying the Journey Before the Destination

By Angela Parinas

I think we’ve all dreamt of “traveling by map” like the muppets do—that the distance from Boston to Japan is really just seven-inches and the travel time is just two seconds. Imagine: no 14-hour flights, no 4 a.m. wake-up calls to get to the airport three hours in advance, no brain-numbing layovers. Unfortunately, that’s just not the reality of travel. With Mexico comes five hours, with Rome comes 10, and with Korea comes 15.

“It’s about the journey not the destination,” they say, but when I’m faced with three layovers to get to Argentina, a 10-hour layover in Panama to get to Brazil, and 14 hours to get to the Philippines, I really start to think I don’t want it to be about the journey at all. However, despite these trivialities, long flights and all, there’s still a silver lining to be found.

There’s an art to transit. It’s this liminal period that allows you to fall into new environments gradually. Over the summer, I traveled to Iguazu Falls in Argentina and was faced with two layovers and three flights before reaching my destination. If we traveled by map like the muppets, we could have reached Iguazu in the blink of an eye, but it would be jarring. The layovers allowed my senses to acclimate: to hear the language shifts as I went from San Francisco to Chile to Buenos Aires to Iguazu; to see the convenience stores and food switch to resemble the local snacks and cuisines; to notice the way people dressed, interacted, and spoke as we moved from one airport to the next. You’re given this transition period to appreciate these moments, and significant distinctions, as you make your way to your destination. It’s the art of observance and learning to notice the world changing in gradual details rather than all at once.

More than that, there’s significance in the parts of the trip you didn’t choose. On my way to Brazil I really did have 10 hours to kill in Panama. Without this unskippable stop I couldn’t have seen the Panama Canal, I wouldn’t have gotten to eat criollo food, and I wouldn’t have experienced the towering Panama skyline. It was a completely unique experience I didn’t know I needed until then and one I’ve remembered since. It was the choice to take transit as an opportunity to explore past the itinerary and the decision to take advantage of the time given to me.

The art of transit is really what you make of it. You can see it as a gray and busy airport you’re forced to stay in for a couple of hours. Or, you can instead choose to really appreciate where you are and what's around you. It’s a period not enough people take advantage of and too many let slip away, without a thought past annoyance. What transit gives us is the time to slow down, to enjoy where we’re going, and to explore what we hadn’t planned. So really, I’m grateful the distance isn’t just seven inches and the journey isn’t just two seconds.