From son Dennis (Antihero) I confess a desire to stay longer, but it was an expensive few days. Checked out of my hotel and set off. My SIM card wasnt working in Belgium, so I relied on Garmins wisdom to get me around. It was here in Bruges that my frustration with Garmins idiocy boiled over into hilarity. The first day in Bruges I just rode around aimlessly. Its a small place, so it was easy to map it out internally. The second day is when I turned the POS on. I knew exactly where I was going, so using the schizophrenic device was more to help me understand its logic. 50 minutes into what should have been a 10 minute ride I gave up. It had me going in circles, including routing me onto a bicycle and pedestrian path through the park (an instruction I didnt follow). So when it came time to leave Bruges I stopped into a gas station to get directions from the attendant. This is how it went: Spreekt u Engels? Yes. Can you point to France? What? France. What direction is it? [Me pointing as he inquisitively laughs] Well, where in France are you going? Dont know. What do you mean? What city? I dont know...I dont know where. Just need to get to France. Still not understanding why someone would just be going somewhere without a particular destination in mind--he nonetheless gives in and points. Thank you! Would you like to look at a map? Nope, Im good. Thanks! As I got on my bike, I looked back through the gas-station-convenience-store-window to find him staring at me, as if trying to glean an additional piece of information that would help make sense of the conversation he just had. Like the Garmin, he was trapped up in some sort of thought loop. He knew where I was. He knew where I was going. But he couldnt get his head around the middle part: the how (and perphaps the why). I gave him a nod, started er up and aimed towards France. I dont know is an amusing reply to the question, Where are you going. Most think of I dont know as just a synonymous phrase for I cant remember. So its a surprise when someone means it literally. The where are you going conversation happens quite frequently. Its the motorcycling equivalent of whos on first. Either sensing Im lost or just out of curiosity, people tend to ask it a lot. The reply always catches them off-guard. Curiosity piqued, help-a-stranger desire in overdrive, more questions follow. Well do you know what hotel youre staying at?....No? Do you know what part of the city its in? No, kind lady, its not that I dont know where Im going, its that I dont know where Im going. Im just riding. But I thought you said you were from Los Angeles? Thats correct. And you got all the way here like that? [At this point I just have to grin slightly to trigger the part of their own brain that answers the question for them.] Its kind of glorious, watching the realization. For the first time in their life it clicks--that youll always arrive somewhere, as if thed lived under the shadow of thinking if you didnt have a destination youd end up NOWHERE. Over and over I get to watch the responses as they slowly come to the literal conclusion of my answers. For some its an epiphany. Others....well....not sure if they ever get it. The irony is that aimless wandering delivers me to the exact spot on the earth, at the exact time, that the careful planning led them to. And then they go back to the life they know and I go back to discovering a life I dont. Irony and modestly and amusing conversations aside, the reality is that, despite even the most careful planning, none of us do know where were going. Life is merely a Garmin-like illusion. You know you input the proper destination, but then you end up on a bike path, at a hair salon, a warehouse behind an airport or behind a counter at a gas station, a place inhabited with people who had a destination at some point in their life and followed it to its logical conclusion.
Posted on: Fri, 31 Oct 2014 04:41:35 +0000
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