The Art of Getting Ready

I have always enjoyed getting ready almost as much as going.

There is something satisfying about the days before a departure. A suitcase appears in the bedroom. A few things are set aside. Reservations are checked. I begin thinking about what I want to wear, what I want to read, and what can comfortably be left at home.

Florida in summer makes a good contrast to all of this. The days are hot and familiar. I run early when I can, swim when the afternoon allows it, and appreciate being home. There is pleasure in knowing where everything is, sleeping in my own bed, and moving through routines that require very little thought.

Then, eventually, I begin thinking about leaving.

I have noticed that anticipation has its own character. Long before I arrive anywhere, I am already picturing the first morning. Coffee somewhere I have never had it before. A street I remember well enough to recognize, or one I will be walking for the first time. A restaurant I have been meaning to try. The view from a hotel window before I know the neighborhood below it.

Returning somewhere I already know has a particular appeal. There are places I enjoy precisely because I do not have to discover them all over again. I know which table I prefer, which streets are worth taking on foot, and where I want to spend an afternoon.

A new place offers something different. I arrive without habits. I pay closer attention. I look up more often.

I like both.

Perhaps that is why I enjoy the preparation so much. It sits between familiarity and departure. Nothing has happened yet, but the first decisions have been made.

Even packing has become part of the pleasure. I am fairly disciplined about it now. I know what I will actually wear and what will remain untouched if I bring it. A good dress. Shoes I can walk in. Something to read. Enough, but not too much.

There is something satisfying about knowing how to leave well.

I used to think travel began when the plane took off. Now I think it begins earlier, somewhere between deciding to go and closing the suitcase.

For a little while, the pleasure is simply in getting ready.