I wish I were... here

Somewhere in the Bible, there’s a lesson that you should make peace with wherever you find yourself, and not wish you were somewhere else. Easier said than done! It’s especially difficult to remain pious when you page through this month’s issue and read about the Kalahari (p 34), the Eastern Free State (p 44) and the Karoo (p 52) in all their glory. Or you read about five relatively unknown parks in the north of Tanzania (p 96) that make you wish for a long life, so that you can also go searching for an Usambara giant three-horned chameleon by torchlight one day. Yet again, I’m struck by the dominant theme that seems to underpin many of our travel stories: escape; a search for peace and quiet; to spend more time in nature and less time among people and manmade things. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about this. You might even call it a sign of the times. The Germans have a better word for it: zeitgeist. “zeit” means time and “geist” means spirit or ghost. “Timeghost” doesn’t work, so we’ll stick to zeitgeist.

Basically, the term refers to a specific feeling or intellectual climate that defines an era, setting it apart from the era preceding it, or the era that follows. You can trace the zeitgeist of an era in that era’s music, art, literature, politics and sport. (No wonder we feel the need to escape!) And, of course, in a magazine like go! Ours is a time where we might feel overwhelmed by how rushed everything is, how technology has invaded our lives and how there are just too many people and there’s too much stupidity. The thought of travelling to an unspoiled place where life is more simple is balm for the soul. We can show you where to find that soulsoothing balm, but you have to smear it on yourself. So get in your car and go, so you won’t have to say, “I wish I were there.” Instead, you can declare: “I’m so glad I’m here!”