慢旅行的艺术.docVIP

慢旅行的艺术 　　旅行的意义是脱离日常生活的轨迹，将自己从每日的忙乱中解脱出来，给身体和心灵同时放个假。然而，如今的许多旅行变成了“换个地方玩手机”，或是走马观花地掠过一个个景点，把人搞得比平常还累。如果你受过旅行的这些“苦”，也许是时候来一场说走就走的“慢旅行”了。放下手机，放慢脚步，还原旅行的本质，重新找回那份悠闲和惬意。 　　“I have some bad news，” my British tour operator told me as I prepared to return to North Korea four months ago. “The DPRK1） is really short of basic materials. You’re going to have to take your own snacks and water. Even soap.” Then he brightened up. “The good news is that it’s still quite hard to get online there and most mobile phones don’t work. So you’ll be free for as long as you’re there！” 　　It wasn’t the first time of late I’ve encountered such wisdom. In Namibia a year earlier， I realised that one of the sovereign2） blessings of the place is that， in nine days and nights， I had barely gone online and had made and received exactly one phone call （to my wife， to remind her when I would be coming home）. And， of course， in the presence of desert-adapted rhinos3） and sand dunes the height of skyscrapers， I had never begun to miss the tiny screen. 　　More and more people are spending hundreds of pounds a night to stay in “black-hole resorts4），” one of whose main attractions is that you hand over your smartphone and tablet on arrival. In a world where the human race accumulates more information every five minutes than exists in the entire US Library of Congress， emptiness and silence are the new luxuries. 　　Welcome， in short， to “slow travel，” which comes to seem ever more tempting in an age of acceleration. This can take the form of simply unplugging； but it also speaks for the special， everyday allure of seeing somewhere on foot， of going to one place （and not 10） in 14 days， and sometimes of going somewhere to do nothing at all. This used to be known as idling， but in a multi-tasking world， in which we seem to be living at a pace dictated by machines， going at human speed suddenly begins to look like sanity and freedom. 　　I experienced my own first taste of slow travel 23 years ago， when I c