PAPA, PAPANANTAYO? --- PAPA, WHERE ARE WE GOING?

A PALACE 500 MILES AWAY

What follows is a serious question preceded by a fairly humorous story.  Most of the story took place in a language that is unknown to you, well most of you, so I will try to make the translation as loyal to the original as I can.  The question is: Why does it seem to take longer to get where you're going than it does to return home?  To put your minds at ease. I will admit, up front, that I do not have the correct answer.  I don't think I do.  Nevertheless, I do have an answer that I will propose to you.  After the story, of course.
Some years ago we decided to drive to Massachusetts to visit my sister who was in the process of living out her last few weeks/months on earth.  She had uncontrolled diabetes and her kidneys were completely shut down.  We had just bought a small Honda Civic, so we decided to drive since all we had was $500.00 and trust in God.  So we leave San Diego with two boys, one 4 and one 3.  Fifty miles away and many requests for an update of whether or not we had arrived yet made the necessary potty stop a welcome relief for all hands.  I then took the opportunity to explain to the two gentlemen who had come along for the ride that it was going to take us at least four days to get to where we were going.  I explained that it was Massachusetts and that we were going there mainly to see Auntie Jeannine.  They nodded in deep comprehension and off we went.  At the Arizona border we stopped to stretch our legs and to take care of Mother Nature.  As we were walking to the car, the younger passenger looked at me with this pleading look in his eyes and asked, Papa, where are we going?"  So I answered him with sincere love, "Dear, we are going to Massachusetts."  "Thank you, Papa."  We all get in and off we go.  Four days across country and not a single time did either one of them ask if we were there yet.  I drove and the three of them, Mama included, of course, played little games, sang pre-school songs, said Hail Mary's and Our Father's and ate .99c breakfasts at Stuckees, all day long.
We reached our destination at about 8:30 PM on the fourth day.  Auntie was not healthy enough to wait.  She had gone home.  The house was full of "strangers," so these two tykes take it upon themselves to rebel against their cheating, lying parents.  The elder one really gets into a lather and states emphatically that since Auntie isn't here and neither are Grandmother nor Grandfather, that we should go home, now.  We can't sleep here.  It's just not fair.  It took a long time and at least two telephone calls to calm things down, but nature, in the form of super fatigue helped us to carry the day...oh, no, the night.  We stayed there for about four days and then climbed back into the car and headed back to San Diego.  It was a great trip with two interesting episodes that have  to wait for another time and another "Thought."
Now, through all that, have you solved the question for yourself?  I drew the little graph on the upper right to make the point and give you a clue to what I think is the answer.  You've had this experience any number of times.  You leave home for a place that is absolutely gorgeous.  You're looking forward to the rest and the fun that awaits you there.  It is just doggone impossible to get there even at 80 MPH!  What is this?  You finally do get there, unload the car, look at your watch [OK, your cell phone] and you realize that in mathematical terms you made excellent time.  At this point you start questioning the validity of your epistemology.  This discomfort lasts but a few seconds, perhaps a minute and then real life takes over and you start to have fun.  Hey, this place is heaven and you're here for a quiet week.  Like everything else, the vacation ends and you find your place in the passenger's seat once again, satisfied that you had a good time and that you were intelligent enough to give yourself a two day cushion of relaxation at home before reporting back to the office.  You enjoy the scenery on the way back and before you know it, BAM, you're home.  You even know that you were settled in at about 75 MPH.  What happened?
Here's my proposal.  What happens is illustrated in the little graph above.  Home is a bigger area of intimate knowledge for us.  We are "home" much sooner in our minds and in our hearts than we feel when we travel to a less intimately known location.  This is true even when we regularly visit and revisit the same location away from home.  This, by the way has other implications.  Did you ever notice that when you start to prepare for a task that you rarely do at home that you find yourself falling behind on your estimated pace?  It always takes longer to prepare to wash the outside windows than you estimated.  It takes you but a trice to prepare to wash and polish the car.  Think about it a while.  Don't blame me if it takes you longer than you estimate to get comfortable with this whole thing.  
Finally, I don't know if I'm right about this.  It doesn't matter to me because right or wrong, I am sitting here thinking that I made you think about something that you had perhaps not considered in a bit.  I'm also thinking that you're wondering about my sanity.  Don't wonder any more.  I'm not.