I love travel, and there is, in my opinion, nothing better than a regular tryst with nature. Yet, to me, taking off on a journey seems like a tough thing to do each time. I spend a few hours packing neatly my shampoos and creams, counting the number of dresses I might need, throwing in an extra couple just in case. I debate on the right kind of shoes to take, and wonder if I have kept the necessary medicines. And even with all this preparation, if my trip extends only by a couple of days, my head goes into a swirl and it takes me a while to regain my assurance.
So, when I see this guy who carelessly slings a bag, and sets out to travel to Alaska for an indefinite time, I feel jealous. I feel jealous when he burns his money and I call him stupid. I feel jealous when he sets out Kayaking without a license and rows up to Mexico city, and I wonder what is he over-reacting to. I envy his easy relationships with people he meets on the road and scorn at his easy abandon. And when he finally reaches his Magic Bus in the middle of a snow-covered landscape, I just expect him to start running back home. But all this jealousy only goes to say how much I wanted to be where Alex Supertramp was.
For all its hollywood flavor, it is a lovely movie to watch. Made especially beautiful with the soundtrack from Eddie Vedder.