Something’s been bugging me lately. Just the other day, a few of us were discussing the conspiracy theories that claim moon landings were hoaxes staged by NASA and member organizations.
Its conceivable now when mainstream visual effects have made fantasy so real that line between reality and fiction is blurred. It is here in the USA that technology was first subtly married into show business creating motion pictures beyond our wildest imagination.
Besides people were simpler back in the 1960s. The TV was a mysterious black box and the moving images were bewildering, never mind they were black-and-white and the audio sounded like folks high on helium.
Or perhaps men did land on the moon and found nothing except rocks on a barren surface. What if the landing spot was like Antarctica or the Sahara. What if aliens landed on our icescapes or deserts and concluded that earth has no signs of life forms, is either a very cold or very hot place. and the alien home is more inhabitable than our hostile planet?
That made me think of the early explorers – the Columbuses, the Magellans, and the ZhengHes of the world. How they left the comforts of home to discover new lands is confounding. More amazing is how they lived to tell their tales. They must be the lucky ones. I’m sure thousands have ventured and simply vanished away.
Why do people crave to travel? Is it the desire to explore or the need to escape? What do we take away when we visit a place? What do we leave behind?
The more I travel, the more I realized how little I know about the world, its people, cultures, customs, histories, politics, geographies. It takes time to fully appreciate all these.
Like the moon missions, I’ve only touched the surface of the place, make a few hops and declare that I’ve been there. Does it mean anything just to have been to a place? Or is the journey more important than the destination?