The Best Seat in the House

I drive a Hyundai. My dream car is a blue Tesla. I am not, by any reasonable definition, a rev head.

And yet two of my most vivid travel memories involve being driven very fast through foreign cities by people who clearly were.

The first was Phnom Penh, Cambodia. My wife’s cousin François-Xavier photographed our wedding. He picked us up and took us on a tour of the city in the back of his open truck. No roof. Wind in your face. The city rushing past in colour and noise and heat. There is no tourist experience on earth that comes close to being shown a place by someone who actually lives there and loves it.

The second was Paris. My good friend Harry is my daughter’s godfather. He put me on the back of his motorbike and took me through the city and onto the Périphérique. What followed was one of the most electrifying experiences of my life. The speeds were genuinely terrifying. The bike leaned into corners at angles that felt physically impossible. The city stopped being a collection of landmarks and became pure sensation. Lights, bridges, wind, the Seine catching the last of the evening light as dusk came in.

I have been on organised tours. I have followed maps and audio guides and carefully curated itineraries.

Nothing has come close to the back of François-Xavier’s truck or the back of Harry’s bike.

The best travel is often unplanned, fast and slightly terrifying. It involves trusting someone who knows the city better than you ever will and holding on.

Thanks for the ride, François-Xavier. Thanks for the ride, Harry.

Paul Mercuri
Wake Up Here Founder

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