The Spaces in between

Illustration by: Nora Römer

Illustration by: Nora Römer


People keep wondering about the meaning of the name of this little blog I run. Great suggestions have come up – this way I learned of “The Game”, a semi-legal craze lived to the fullest by a bunch of nerd kids who have managed to trick the airlines’ reward systems to fly, basically, for free. All the time. Seemingly without purpose, they circle the planet in First Class in an endless one-way trip, every destination just a stopover to beyond.

I am not part of “The Game”. Too bad, actually: First Class looks mighty fine if you manage to sneak a peek or trust the promotional pictures that pop up from the respective online search. Then again, who would really want to give up on the concepts, the realities of home and holidays? Or would you? To keep going, to aim high, fly higher, to never come down.

To never leave the clouds. What might that be like?

Once you start spending considerable time traveling – be it above the clouds, on the tracks, on concrete, be it because circumstances force you to, or because you deliberately choose to – you notice your is focus shifting. Time you pass going somewhere, assumes new weight, feels less like time spent, but rather like time gained. Once every-trip stuff like getting your luggage sorted or securing the best seat has entered your routine, it vanishes from your perception, allowing you to really concentrate on what is in front of you – or on what is going on within yourself. In all likelihood, you are traveling either by yourself or in the company of a person or several whom you care about, and in the world of flight mode and dead zones there’s little left to distract you.

In consequence, you are allowed to experience the amazing relativity of time. A six-hour train ride, an eleven-hour flight, a multi-transfer journey across those strange things called time zones, assume an intense richness, yet seem to buzz by in the glory of quality.

On the other hand, traveling a lot will raise your awareness, and appreciation, of detail. Seen through the window of a plane or train, the world moves at a much lower pace than on any given screen and invites you to let your eyes linger. On the spaces in between. From the spaces in between.

text by: Friedrich Reip


Nora Römer

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *