A friend recently reminded me that he doesn’t enjoy driving. It wasn’t a complaint, just a statement of fact. For him, driving is a means to an end—a process of getting from A to B. He described it as frustrating, filled with too many red lights, too many inattentive drivers, and too little reward. He feels drained by the experience and probably arrives at his destination wishing he had taken another mode of transport.
It's remarkable how many people have the same opinion, wishing that cars were all self-driving or that the transporters seen in Star Trek were options today. This is a completely different perspective from mine, as moving from one place to another is not just about reaching a destination, but the journey itself. The act of driving—especially without a fixed itinerary—can be a meditative, liberating experience. While my friend prefers to avoid the road altogether, I find myself longing for the next stretch of asphalt winding through mountains, the sun dipping low in the sky, and the possibility of discovering something new around the next bend.
Out of curiosity, I suggested we take a drive together. Not the kind he’s accustomed to, through the stop-and-go streets of a busy city, but a meandering journey into the mountains, where red lights are few and the drivers fewer. “You might enjoy it,” I said, trying to pique his interest.
But he politely declined. And that’s fine. Everyone is different. Not every passion is meant to be shared. Still, I couldn’t help but reflect on what it is about driving that brings me so much joy and how those moments on the road have shaped some of the most memorable experiences of my life.
There’s something special about setting off with no particular destination in mind. The road ahead feels infinite, a blank canvas waiting to be filled with whatever sights and experiences the day might bring. While I wouldn’t call myself a thrill-seeker, there’s an undeniable sense of adventure in not knowing what’s around the corner.
Many of the best photographs I’ve taken with Ayumi, my loyal companion, were the result of this serendipity. Perhaps we spotted a shimmering lake glinting in the afternoon sun, or a tiny, unmarked path leading to a picturesque waterfall tucked into the forest. These were not places I had planned to visit. They were discovered because we chose to wander.
One particular evening stands out in my memory. Ayumi and I had been driving through the countryside, the sky painted in hues of orange and gold as the sun began to set. As we crested a hill, we caught sight of a small farm nestled in a valley below, its fields glowing under the last light of the day. I pulled over, and we sat there together, simply watching the light fade into twilight. It wasn’t a landmark or a tourist destination—just an ordinary place rendered extraordinary by the moment.
This is the kind of magic that keeps me coming back to the road. It’s not about where I’m going, but about being present, observing the world in its quiet, unassuming beauty. Even a trip to the grocery store can reveal something new and unexpected.
Driving offers a sense of freedom that’s hard to replicate. It’s a chance to disconnect from the pressures of daily life and reconnect with the world around you. Unlike a train or a bus, which follows a predetermined route, a car allows you to follow your instincts. See an interesting road sign? Turn off and see where it leads. Notice a forest trail? Park and take a walk. The possibilities are endless.
This freedom is what makes driving such an integral part of my life. I’ve stumbled upon hidden gems that I never would have found otherwise: a tiny café in the mountains that serves the best coffee I’ve ever tasted, a quiet beach where Ayumi could run freely, or a scenic overlook that felt like it was reserved just for us. These discoveries weren’t planned—they were gifts from the road.
Driving isn’t just a way to explore the world; it’s also a way to learn about yourself. Patience, for example, is a virtue that every driver must cultivate. Whether you’re stuck behind a slow-moving truck or navigating a detour, the road has a way of reminding you that not everything is within your control. It’s a humbling experience but also an opportunity to grow.
Then there’s the art of observation. When you’re driving, you’re constantly scanning your surroundings: the road ahead, the behaviour of other drivers, the changing landscape. This heightened awareness extends beyond the car, teaching you to notice the little things in life—the curve of a river, the play of light on the leaves, the subtle shifts in the weather.
In many ways, driving mirrors life itself. It’s not always smooth. There are bumps, detours, and moments of frustration. But there are also stretches of pure joy, where everything aligns, and you feel completely at peace. The key is to embrace the journey, wherever it takes you.
As much as I love driving, I know it’s not for everyone. My friend’s perspective is a reminder that we all experience the world differently. What brings me joy might feel like a chore to someone else, and that’s perfectly fine. The important thing is to find what moves you, what makes you feel alive.
For some, it might be hiking through the mountains or cycling along a coastal road. For others, it could be curling up with a good book or spending hours in the kitchen perfecting a recipe. Whatever it is, it’s worth pursuing. Life is too short to ignore the things that bring you joy.
If you’ve never thought of driving as anything more than a means to an end, I encourage you to try looking at it differently. Take a drive without a destination. Pick a road you’ve never traveled before and see where it leads. Bring a friend, a pet, or just your thoughts for company. Stop when something catches your eye. Let the journey surprise you.
Who knows? You might discover a hidden gem, a moment of quiet reflection, or simply a renewed appreciation for the world around you. And if you don’t? That’s okay, too. At least you’ll have given it a chance.
For me, the road is more than a path to somewhere else. It’s a space to think, to dream, and to connect with the world in ways that few other experiences allow. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.