100. Travel

A couple of months ago—just after Iran, when I anticipated that oil prices would be rising—I booked some flights, for two trips, one to Europe to visit family in Norway, with a side trip to Berlin because I've always wanted to go; the other to Brazil, for a tour scheduled for August. The Brazilian flights were all on American, so I could book them directly with the airline, and even select seats. The European flights—eight in all, as things have stacked up—I arranged through a broker, because they covered several different air carriers. Shortly after I made these bookings, I saw a news story saying that Lufthansa (one of our European carriers) was canceling twelve thousand flights because of anticipated chronic aviation fuel shortages. And a few weeks ago, indeed, I received a notice that one of our flights, from Berlin to Oslo, was being rebooked—four days later. Well, um, no: we had no intention of spending most of our two-week trip in Berlin. It's Oslo we are especially invested in visiting. So I directed David to find out if there were other options—including, potentially, simply canceling that leg and taking the train and ferry. We're in no rush, and we enjoy slower travel; we could just spend a little less time in Berlin, then proceed in a leisurely fashion to our destination. But if we did that, he was told, we'd have to rebook the entire trip. Well, um, no—wasn't there another option? Turned out, yes: fly on the originally scheduled day, and stop in Copenhagen. It's a short layover, so it's risky, but at least it's (somewhat) predictable. 

And there things stood until today, when I decided it was time to book seats on those eight flights. Which I did through the original broker. And there was no problem: except—and this isn't a problem, but it is an annoyance—we were forced to pay from $20 to $139 per person per leg. Simply to book seats. Total bill: $957. When the pleasant agent suggested Travel Protection, for only $357, I thought: all this is so tenuous as it is, it's probably a good idea. Though I tend to think of all insurance as a ripoff and a scam, anymore, not to have insurance can end up being unacceptably risky. (Just think health insurance, especially in this benighted country.) And fortunately, we are comfortable enough that an extra $1,200 for what started out as already a rather expensive outing doesn't send my heart racing. 

All that is a long-winded way of saying, my traveling days may be coming to an end. I already hate a lot of the travel circus—TSA, nickel-and-diming simply to bring a suitcase, the ever-shrinking seating, the lack of any amenities, always being in the last group to board the plane. But now, with Trump's stupid war, airfares will only be rising and rising and rising. And even if I might be able to afford it, it irritates me no end. (Thank god, Trump's stupid passport emblazoned with his portrait seems to be by-request only, because there is no way I would ever own such a piece of trash. I briefly considered holding my nose and using that as my illustration here, but fortunately I found Michelle Obama's passport instead. Much better!)

So much of present-day life irritates me, but the skyrocketing prices, which were completely avoidable had we had a president who wasn't intent on his own self-aggrandizement, obsessed with his "deal-making," are giving me pause. Especially since I anticipate a distinct devaluation of the dollar not too long from now—also because of Trump—so who knows how long we'll feel "comfortable enough." One other uncertainty in there being David's health, because if his cancer does "wake up" and, eventually, do him in, I will lose a significant income, what with his pension and half of his Social Security, as well as his health insurance, going away. 

But see my post #99 the other day. I also refuse to live in fear. I do not have any control over any of this, and I'm doing my best not to worry. If push came to shove, I know I/we would survive. (Well, I'm pretty sure.) I'm also trying my best to celebrate what I do have. If I have to give up traveling far and wide, I am still fortunate to live in a pretty spectacular place. There are riches of the mind right here in all the books I own. I don't really need anything beyond what I have right here, right now. 

I would miss traveling, but I'm also fortunate enough to have traveled, starting when I was three. But there are plenty of alternatives, right here. And I mustn't forget that.

And ha! I made it to #100. It only took me a year and twenty-four days. I will go back to unnumbered posts. Take the pressure off!