It seems as if wherever I travel I can count on most if not all of these sounds:
church bells
motorcycles
the bell sound before a public announcement
the whoosh of subway cars entering and leaving stations
the clatter of dishes and silverware in restaurant kitchens
police sirens
elevator doors opening and closing
voices through the walls of hotel rooms
hawkers selling tours or junk
people talking on their phones
exhausted children crying
the cacophony of voices from a crowded bar
But there is one sound unmistakably associated with travel for me. There’s a particular way luggage zippers sound it’s not like jeans or jackets, which are lighter and higher in tone, but a deeper, more resonant sound, almost like a sudden intake of breath. When I am packing up, there are so many zippers on my bags and backpack that it seems like a repeated call of a bird. I guess it’s the song of the migrating traveler. First that, then joyful flight to whatever is next and new.