“TO travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.”

Robert Louis Stephenson’s famous quote sprang to mind as I passed Salisbury’s Sunday evening logjam of traffic returning from the coast.

We were heading the other way, bikes in the boot, out for a cycle ride on Bournemouth seafront followed by fish and chips in the evening sunshine.

Except that the looks on the faces of those in the queue weren’t exactly hopeful.

Is it just me, or is travelling a lot more tedious than it used to be? Take to the roads in winter and you are now advised to pack a shovel, sleeping bag, thermos flask and space blanket – even if you’re just popping to the shops. And after last week’s Dover harbour debacle with motorists stranded for up to 12 hours on the motorway, the advice is that travelling in summer now requires water, food and emergency toilet facilities on board to cope with the (inevitable?) delays.

Flying isn’t that much better; parking a nightmare, queues of up to an hour at security, lounges resembling the worst motorway service stations and reports of passengers stranded for up to 10 hours in planes delayed on the tarmac… Digital distractions for children on long journeys have helped to redefine what it means to travel in hope. Last summer’s drive to Italy was relieved by reliving the whole of the Disney back catalogue.

This year, I’m anticipating the motorway network having a sufficient sprinkling of Jigglypuffs, Meowths and Snorlaxes to keep spirits up as far as Cornwall… A far cry from the pack of playing cards, number plate cricket and ‘I spy’ filled journeys of my childhood.

But however apt the saying is for an era of mass transportation, it’s deeper meaning is just as appropriate. “For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move,” said Stephenson.

He saw life itself as a journey, a constant movement, a voyage of discovery whose excitement lay in the fact that it was not over; the moment of arrival marking the sadness of its completion and removal of anticipation.

Continuing the journey staves off the fear that its ending may fail to live up to our expectation. Or that our life may become evacuated of the meaning that constant travel and hope gives it. “I inevitably find that the sadness of ending, outweighs the celebration of success,” wrote one commentator.

So maybe the advice for summer travellers is the same as travellers through life: enjoy the journey, regardless of how it differs from the one you were expecting; take delays and diversions in your stride as God given moments of unexpected opportunity – and watch out for Ghastlies!