Most of my life, I didn’t need tourism. The first time I went on a vacation was when I was 27, and it was just about 20km across the bay from Mumbai, where I lived. But, finally, I was on this famous thing called a vacation.
I am not including some beautiful places I visited on work, alone. The vacation was highly enjoyable, probably because of my company, but I gave primary credit to the concept of leisure travel, and I thought I must travel more and further, and for no better reason than to be elsewhere. But I wouldn’t go on such a vacation for another two years.
The first time I took a flight for a vacation was when I was 32. And I am not that old at all. Since then, I have been on numerous trips.
Once, I saw people kayaking and thought it looked fun. I found a kayak, and realized that its seeming fun is entirely a triumph of imagination. It didn’t match the actual experience, like many things in life.
Every time I see people having fun, I recall that kayak. I did enjoy most vacations somewhat, but I never fully understood them. I didn’t consider them “a break" because I don’t understand the concept.
A real break, to me, means a break from myself, but I’m always there on my vacations. Also, the idea of going to a beautiful place for a few days only to return to an ugly Indian city seemed pointless. And I never took seriously the idea of going somewhere to breathe fresh air.
What’s the point? You always return home. I have now been to all the continents, including Antarctica (though that was on work). And I am yet to fully see the point of tourism.
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