Lessons from 1872

In this episode, Lessons from 1872: Travel in the Age of No-WiFi . . .

Imagine having 80 days to explore the world, with no smartphones, no jet planes, and no money concerns. A thrilling thought, right? That’s the fantasy Jules Verne implies in his classic adventure, Around the World in 80 Days, and it's a question I've been pondering from my easy chair in Vista, California.

This week’s On the Fly, we're traveling back in time with one of the most thrilling literary adventures ever written. Early on, it’s clear this is Phileas Fogg’s story—a man of clocks and calculations, whose every move is measured. His journey isn’t about discovery, but a bet—a mathematical challenge involving money, schedules, and perfect timing.

But when you think he’s the engine of the story, someone else quietly steals the show. Meet Passepartout: The Heart of the Journey.

Jean Passepartout, Fogg’s new valet, is Fogg’s complete opposite. A former circus acrobat seeking a quiet life, he joins Fogg’s household hoping for nothing more than peace and stability. Instead, he's immediately thrown into the most unpredictable journey imaginable.

And here’s the twist: Passepartout is us.

Where Fogg embodies cold precision and detached logic, Passepartout is all heart—driven by emotion, curiosity, and spontaneity. He's the one who reacts to the world as we would, panicking, laughing, stumbling, and adapting along the way. He doesn’t merely travel across continents—he experiences them. In India, he gets drugged; in Hong Kong, he’s arrested; and he races wildly through customs halls. While Fogg stays unwaveringly focused on the goal, Passepartout is the one who truly lives the adventure.

"Monsieur is in a great hurry?” Says Passepartout.

"Yes, I have a wager to win."

— Passepartout & Fogg

Without Passepartout, this would be a timetable in book form. With him, it’s an odyssey full of charm, chaos, and humanity.

The Moment Everything Unravels . . .

Once again, everything unravels. Chapter 19 is the gut punch. Phileas Fogg and Passepartout race to catch the steamer to America via Yokohama from Hong Kong, a crucial part of their plan. But a quiet betrayal is already underway.

Detective Fix, convinced that Fogg is a fugitive bank robber, reaches Passepartout first by using clever tricks to drug and delay him. Passepartout, now lost in the city's chaos, cannot warn Fogg about the changed departure time. The ship—their carefully planned escape vessel—leaves the dock with Passepartout on board but without Fogg.

This isn't just a missed connection; it's the sudden, painful breakdown of an otherwise perfect plan. It highlights that even the most precise schedules can’t shield us from the unpredictable chaos of the world.

I could hear the ship’s horn fading into the distance, or maybe that was a distant truck's horn? Anyway, it was the gut punch of a missed opportunity. My entire journey teetered on collapse right along with theirs.

But what does Fogg do? He’s calm. He doesn’t break. He charters another vessel and adjusts his course. Cool as ever. “The journey isn’t over until I say it is,” his actions declare.

A Race Across a World That No Longer Exists

With modern air travel, it’s hard to imagine just how monumental this journey would have been in 1872. Back then, crossing the globe was a test of nerve, endurance, and luck. Steamers could be delayed. Trains might derail. An elephant might be your only hope through the jungles of India.

Today, you could replicate Fogg’s itinerary in about 45 to 50 hours of air travel. That’s right—two days. Six flights. Maybe one missed connection in Frankfurt. The planet has shrunk to the size of a long weekend.

But something has been lost in the speed. Verne’s world was slower but richer in mystery. Google the next port? Nope. You had to feel it under your feet, trust your instincts, and pray the wind was in your favor.

What makes this book so brilliant isn’t just the race—it’s the evolving sense of what matters.

Fogg may be the hero by title, but Passepartout is the one who changes, the one who truly experiences the world and reminds us how to feel again. It’s easy to admire Fogg’s determination. But it’s Passepartout’s wide-eyed wonder, his flawed, impulsive, loyal self, that makes the story worth reading.

I hear you, so why read it today?

Because in a world that feels smaller than ever, where we can fly across continents in hours, Verne reminds us that the most life-giving journeys aren’t always the fastest. They’re messy, unpredictable ones—the ones where you miss your connection, trust the wrong stranger, fall in love with a world you didn’t know you needed.

If you want a humorous, urgent, and heartfelt summer read, try Around the World in 80 Days. Pick it up and escape—whether you're in Vista, California, or elsewhere. See if Phileas Fogg makes it back to London on time.

And more importantly, let’s see what Passepartout and we, the hitchhikers, discover along the way.

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, and remember—the best journeys aren't always found on a map. See you next time.

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