The Art of Travel

Travel isn't always what it is cracked up to be. There is something about planning a trip that is inherently more delicious than actually taking the journey. Then afterwards when you get home, you find the time away did not live up to the expectation of all the planning. Alain de Botton invites you to travel in a way you have never considered before. When you finally arrive at your destination, he welcomes you to closely inspect your surroundings in ways you didn't know you could or should; to see beyond merely looking. Upon reading Art of Travel he makes you want to stand in the spot where van Gogh's little yellow house used to stand in Arles, France; where you'll find yourself a little sad it was destroyed in World War II. I could go show more on and on with other examples, but I think it's best to read the book. show less

Zur jetzigen Zeit eine Fernreise anzutreten, wäre sicherlich eine schöne Angelegenheit, wird sich allerdings innerhalb der nächsten Wochen und Monate eher schwierig gestalten (Dieses Intro wird schlecht altern, deshalb hier der Hinweis auf das beim Schreiben just grassierende #Covid19). Das soll aber niemanden davon abhalten, sich im Kopf zu bewegen.

Um erste Schritte in diesem möglicherweise unbekannten Terrain zu wagen, rate ich zur vorherigen Lektüre der "Kunst des Reisens". Alain de Botton als Reiseführer nimmt den interessierten Lesenden auf 280 Seiten mit, mehr über das menschliche Verlangen nach exotischen Orten zu erfahren. So erfährt man ganz nebenbei, dass selbst beim Urlaub auf Barbados das Unglück nicht fern sein show more muß und das Sehnsuchtsorte von heute, wie beispielsweise der Lake District in Großbritannien, zu frühreren Zeiten als Provinz galten, die unbedingt zu meiden war.

Wahrnehmung ist Kopfsache und so hängt der Eindruck, den fremde Orte auf uns machen, nicht immer von der "instagrammability" und der Fotolinse, sondern viel häufiger von der inneren Einstellung ab. Wenn es mit der funktioniert, kann auch die Reise durch die eigenen vier Wände eine durchaus lohnende Erfahrung sein.

"Tahiti ist überall!"

ps.: Schöne Bilder sind auch drin!

pps.: Im Anschluss oder alternativ tut es auch "Die Spaziergangswissenschaft" von Lucius Burckhardt. Hier sei jedoch gewarnt, die Lektüre gestaltet sich etwas sperriger. show less

Obviously someone who is afraid to even go to a restaurant on his own doesn't know how to enjoy a holiday. "Why do holidays look so good from home, when obviously they are all crap in reality" (paraphrasing) The book is so those who don't enjoy travelling can find something to like in it, and it ventures that everyone else is just pretending to like it anyway.


It's funny ha ha. Worth reading.

De Botton's great at standing on the shoulders of giants, and usually the points he makes through their thoughts are great. But choosing to follow Des Esseintes' idea of not actually seeing a place except in the imagination? Ugh. Works in fiction, not in real life.

Ever since I was a child I had a longing to travel. There are many explanations for this longing, but it became clear to me one summer, when after my first real heartbreak, I traveled by myself to Munich (because that was 'his' favorite city) by train reading "The Magic Mountain" (because that was 'his' favorite book), and I looked out the cabin window and wondered why I was there. And I knew. I was searching for something, what exactly was unclear, but it was something important, something elusive--beauty, love, meaning, something that I could not find in familiar places. I had to isolate myself from everything that was familiar in order to find my own meaning again. Alain de Botton's book "The Art of Travel" is a wonderful essay about show more longing and learning to see anew what is always before us. I loved the mix of paintings, memoirs, word-painting, and his own experiences. My favorite parts were.... well everything. I want to read the authors he spoke of, see the paintings he described, learn to word-paint and see the world in all its beauty. show less

The Art of Travel, it is a curious combination of travel locations, the artists and writers who portrayed them in their work, and the personal experiences of the book’s author. The book revolves around the thought that “wherever you go, you’re still yourself when you get there,” with all your anxieties, needs, and preferences.
He describes being in exotic locations and still arguing about desserts with his companion. The restaurant had served them the same dessert; one which was smaller and perfectly shaped, and a second one which was much larger, but misshapen. The man (our author) switched the larger one that he was served, for the perfect one, saying that she should have more. She ate a bite, and then slipped into an angry show more space, which evolved into a dual sulk that lasted for half a day … reminding themselves that as beautiful as the surroundings were, they were the same people they were at home.
He writes so clearly about what people get from traveling. In one section, he beautifully describes how differently Vincent van Gogh saw landscapes and colors. For so many years, painters had been using the same subdued palette, until van Gogh came along and blew it all up.
To be honest, I read this fine book some time ago, but I still remember being so impressed with his writing and intellect, a trait that all Alain de Botton books seem to share.
Unless something major changes in my life, I don’t see myself doing much more traveling, but this book will always resonate with me. show less

Alain De Botton - [The Art of Travel]
"mais il faut cultiver notre jardin" is the last thing Candide says in Voltaires novel published in 1759, after travelling extensively and seeing some of the man made horrors in the world. Alain de Botton seems to come to a similar conclusion at the end of his The Art of Travel, although he might extend his garden to include his immediate locality. Why bother to travel when there is so much to see close to home if you can be bothered to look more carefully. Published in 2002 this book might become more relevant to a post covid-19 world where travel is likely to be either more difficult, more dangerous or both. Miles Davis is reported to have said something like 'why do I need to go and visit famous show more sights when I can see pictures of them in books.' Why indeed and after reading de Botton, and perhaps being careful of your carbon footprint you might think that Miles Davis had a point. I am sure that de Botton wished to educate his readers on how to travel better, how to enhance their experiences, but his own examples of his travels are hardly inspirational: a wet three days in the lake district (England), a package holiday to Barbados and a guilty escapade in Madrid following a working seminar.

Alain de Botton is a Swiss born British philosopher who writes books and articles aimed at a more general readership. His first book 'Essay on Love" was a best seller and his "The Consolations of Philosophy" published in 2000 also sold well. He has then turned his attention to travel; travel for pleasure and to help with his ideas he has enlisted the aid of artists (authors and painters) from the past to act as our guides. Wordsworth accompanies us in our travels in the Lake District, Vincent Van Gogh is present in Provence (France) and Edward Hopper in the transit stations along the way. The book starts with the thoughts of the Duc des Esseintes the misanthropic hero of J K Huysman's "A Rebours" who came to the conclusion that: the anticipation of travel is so much better than the real thing. The Duc made careful preparations to travel from his Villa on the outskirts of Paris to London, but when he arrived at the Parisian train terminus he had a cup of coffee and decided it was not worth the effort and returned home. There are further examples of regretful travellers: for example Charles Baudelaire:

We saw stars
And waves; we saw sand to
And, despite many crises and unforeseen disasters
We were often bored, just as we are here.

It would be misleading to give the impression that the book is totally negative about travelling, but de Botton does always find something that stops him being euphoric about the experience.

In addition to de Botton's thoughts on travelling the prime motive for the book is as a self-help guide, to encourage people to think a little more about what they are doing and why they are doing it. I personally found many of his observations to be in tune with my thoughts or at least how I would like to be thinking if I took the time to write them down. His ideas can seem a little trite but they are mercifully free from wisecracks and bon mots. Towards the end of the book John Ruskin is our guide in a search for beauty and how we can benefit by looking more carefully at what is around us, perhaps taking the time to sketch our viewpoints as a way of making us see more of what is there. We are almost back to spending our time cultivating our garden and not intrusively involving ourselves in the lives of other people.

I started of reading impatiently; in as much as de Botton seemed to spend much of his energy in stating the blindingly obvious, but I warmed to him and his thoughts as he paired his travels with authors and painters from the past to give a resonance to his own writing. My penguin edition of the book contains many and only black and white photos, which do nothing to enhance the text as they are of such poor quality. Perhaps this is a coffee table book struggling to get out. It might work better in a larger format with better art work.

The book probably won't stop you booking your next holiday and it is not intended to do so, but it might make you think a little more about your expectations and how you can gain more enjoyment from the experience. 3.5 stars. show less