Forget shuttle buses and trains, why not walk to (or from) the airport instead? That is the preferred method of novelist Will Self, who even went as far to include one such stroll – from Los Angeles airport to Hollywood – in his surreal novel-cum-walkalogue Walking to Hollywood.
It is something I’ve experimented with myself here in Trujillo. Well, sort of. In my case, the airport was actually more an obstacle than the final destination itself.
Some weeks ago, you see, I decided that if I was going to have to spend my birthday alone this year – what with my wife being on the other side of the continent in Brazil – I’d do so by going on a long walk to the beach in Huanchaco, a small coastal town nine miles (15km) upcoast from Trujillo. The local airport – an entirely forgettable place if it were not for the charm of its arrivals lounge doubling as a car park – would merely serve as a milepost that, whilst requiring circumnavigation, would at least reassure me that the birthday beer I envisaged having on the beach was almost within reach. Continue Reading
During my formative years I remember one of my friends remarking that it’s impossible to ever be lost in London because most of the time you never know where you are in the first-place.
Back then I was inclined to agree because despite living just ten miles from Central London I only sporadically ventured there, and when I did I often found myself feeling slightly disorientated by its relentless bustle and vast mazy topography.
Later though, as I worked in and around London, and travelled more outside of the UK, I came to appreciate London’s randomness as being part of its endearing charm; the ability to amble aimlessly around its meandering streets far preferable to the irksome intermittences walkers suffer on the streets of obsessively gridded cities like Buenos Aires. Continue Reading
Shortly after moving to São Paulo I started Portuguese lessons at FAAP, a university opposite the Pacaembu football stadium that is about 6km (3.5 miles) from where I live in the north of the city.
Estádio do Pacaembu
As a non-driver – as in, I’ve never learnt to drive – my options for travelling around São Paulo, and to and from FAAP, were much the same as those available to me back in London: taxi, public transport or on foot.
Essentially unemployed, hailing a taxi three times a week hardly seemed like the most cost-effective way to manage my meagre savings, and whilst walking would have been my preferred option – I easily walked well-over around 6km a day whilst working in London – I was still a little bit overwhelmed by my new surroundings. This left public transport.