Most of my travelling experiences had been as a child when we used to
go on family holidays to Wales or Cornwall from Oxfordshire. We would get up
at some hideously early hour - probably actually a civilized time but it felt like
the middle of the night to me, and my dad would pack the car while mum
made a hundred sandwiches to sustain us through the day. We would then
get on the road and although we probably only covered a couple of hundred
miles it would literally take all day. Partly this was due to the length of time
needed to coordinate toilet and food breaks for everyone - normally six of us.
However, most of the reason why we would be driving all day was the fact
that we always began holidays on a Saturday in August to make sure that the
roads were nicely crowded with fellow holiday-makers and - worst of all -
caravans.
My first serious long distance drive was in France when Emma and I
went camping for three weeks to celebrate finishing our undergraduate
degrees at university. The first day of this mini-adventure we drove for about
12 hours, except for a gap in the middle for the Euro Star. The long drive was
unintentional but resulted from poor navigation and the fact that the first
campsite we came to was full. Even this experience did not prepare us fully
for a road trip USA-style, which turned out to be a blend of the movie version
and our previous European encounter. The three-week holiday did harden us
to the idea of living together however, 21 nights in a small tent will do that to
you quite easily.
The main difference in America from the epic all day drive in France was the
emptiness through which we were travelling and therefore the distance we