The Joy Of Travel

I was born and raised in Denver, CO, which as it turns out is quite a rare thing, as most have moved here from somewhere else.  I have been fortunate enough to travel extensively in my relatively young 28 years of life, but still find Denver my favorite choice of a place to live.  Nowhere, to me, has the weather (over 300 days of sun per year), the outdoorsy feel without the grunge, and the vast amount of activities within a quick drive as does Denver.  But still, there is nothing in the world like traveling.

Although many of the places I’ve traveled have been work related, I still enjoy each and every aspect of wherever I may find myself.  I relish things like local foods, which luckily my body needs (and receives) several times a day.  I enjoy going for walks in unknown places, having no idea what side-street will bring what, but more often than not, it’s an unexpected memory that will last a lifetime.  I really like photography, especially while traveling.  Although I’ve never advanced beyond a point-and-shoot camera, I find taking pictures of new places to be simply amazing.  It’s never the picture I get of me standing, for example, in front of the Gateway of India (a world landmark) that I will enjoy looking at for a lifetime to come, although it is quite stunning, with plenty of history behind it.  Rather it’s the haphazard photos that were taken moments later of a policeman casually holding the barrel of an automatic weapon, the man selling oversized balloons off of a moped, or the gas station sign prominently displaying its name, “Pure for Sure” preceded by the ever-reassuring “okay” hand gesture.

I get enjoyment trying to figure out (and usually finding myself baffled) why a weapon of that type is needed (but I must admit, if I had a criminal mind, I’d sure think twice after seeing that thing), who the target consumer is for an oversized balloon (if the picture doesn’t do it justice, trust me they are HUGE, and some vendors had several of them at a time), and why the gas station chose “Pure for Sure” as their name.  I love not knowing what’s coming next, and being overwhelmed by photos that I feel I must take.  Things I know I’ve never seen before, am afraid I may never see again, and am positive that I either won’t be able to remember what made the scene so interesting, or will never be able to explain to others without a photograph to back me up.

After getting back home to Denver and reviewing the photos, I always find myself thinking more deeply about the “insignificant” photos than I do about the “important” photos.

I get to thinking about the terrorist attacks on November 26^th, 2008 that occurred, among other places, inside of the Taj Mahal Palace & Tower Hotel, next to the Gateway Of India, less than 100 feet from where this policeman now stands.  I find myself trying to imagine being in the shoes of someone who makes a living selling something such as one of these novelty balloons, with dozens of other vendors selling the exact same thing all around, just in this one part of town.  I wonder if I would have the entrepreneurial mind to sell something different, something unique, or grab a handful of balloons and still try to differentiate myself…I’ll never know.  As to the “Pure for Sure” station, the only reason that a petrol station, as it’s called, would need a name like that, must be the abundance of impure gasoline that circulates around the country.  The saying goes that it’s a small world, but in some ways, it’s huge.

All 4 photos were taken within 5 minutes of one another.  All were taken within the 60 minutes that I had between our last vendor meeting of the day, and a business dinner that evening.  That time could have been spent resting in the hotel room, but I’m so glad it wasn’t.  In a nutshell, in the broadest sense, those 60 minutes are why I love to travel.