Today's piece of elitist, nostalgic poop comes from travel writer Seth Stevenson in The New York Times:
Governments, businesses and most travelers, irritated by disrupted itineraries and worried about lost productivity, are delighted to see planes back in the sky. But I, for one, wish this blessedly jet-free interlude could have continued a little longer. In the eccentric, ground-level adventures of some stranded passengers — 700-mile taxi rides through Scandinavia, for instance, perhaps a horse-drawn stagecoach over the Alps if things got really desperate — I'm reminded of the romance we trade away each time we shuffle aboard an airplane.
Because it's so much better when people are forced to make the same choice you have.
At the risk of taking such garbage seriously, I probably know at least 200 people who traveled "romantically" through Europe and Asia, whether by riding the rails, hitchhiking, or otherwise improvising. Every single one of them depended on a trans-oceanic flight to get started, and very few had the cash dollar bills to afford passage on Queen Mary II.