I’ve recently found myself reading a couple of travel memoirs written in the 80’s and early 90’s. I didn’t set out to purposely read these because they are older titles, I just came upon them and was drawn in.
The first was In Papua New Guinea, by Christina Dodd. This is the story of a British woman who makes her way across PNG, by horseback and by foot. With little information about the country, no map and only her senses and the goodwill of the people to guide her, she has incredible adventures and encounters with most everyone she meets.
I just finished Travelling Light by Robyn Davidson, one of my favorite travel writers. Robyn has, among other things, trekked across the Australian desert with a few camels in tow and spent months traveling with camel traders across the desert in Rajasthan. Travelling Light is a compilation of some of her stories about her travels as well as observations of Aboriginal life down under.
I’m now reading (for the second time) Tim Cahill’s Road Fever about his attempt at breaking the Guinness Book of World Record’s time for driving from the tip of South America to Alaska.
In all of these cases, I love that the authors’ experiences were saw raw, so natural and that they were, in many respects, so unprepared for their adventures. Without access to a gazillion bits of information, they had to do what research they could through books and do their social networking by phone and snail mail.
Early Travels
These books remind me of my first real journey when, in 1987, I took a semester off from college, packed up my car and drove across the country for 3 months visiting friends who were attending universities across the U.S. That’s also when I discovered youth hostels and began meeting people from around the world for the first time.
I remember hand writing a letter that outlined my potential route, photocopying it and mailing it to everyone I knew so that they could expect my arrival at some point during those 3 months. If they weren’t home when I arrived (no one had cell phones let alone email), I stayed in the local youth hostel or moved on to the next city.
That trip was what got me hooked on travel. It was the excitement of the unexpected. The slight nervousness of knocking on the door of someone whom I’d met briefly 6 months earlier. Would they answer the door? Would they find me an annoyance to deal with? Or embrace the chance to host this crazy solo traveler from New Jersey making her way to California.
During that trip, I saw my first sunset on the Pacific Ocean (I felt compelled to clap after such a performance!); I celebrated my 21st birthday at the Pigeon Point Lighthouse hostel in Pescadero, California; I “flew” a twin-engine prop plane in Texas when the pilot took a small group of us from a hostel up for a thrill ride and allowed each of us to handle the controls; I also spent a lot of nights on friends’ couches (and many hungover mornings there, too π
I miss those days (well, not the hangovers). I miss not planning. I miss the unexpected, the mystery of what’s next. And I miss not having the pressure of letting everyone know where I am, if not daily, then at least every few days.
You could argue that this kind of travel still exists if a person wanted it badly enough. One could set off relatively blindly on a journey without doing too much research. It’s possible to go off the grid, hop in a car and take a road trip. A person could disappear for months at a time in India and never “have” to check email or add a status update on Facebook.
But the reality is that few people (me included) are capable of doing this because of our addictions to our electronics and our false belief that we are truly “connected” to everyone in our network.
Some people may have the desire to go off the grid but pressure from family and friends is immense and it’s expected that you’ll keep everyone posted on your whereabouts. If you “disappear” for even a few days, loved ones worry because they know you “should” be able to check in from anywhere, so why didn’t you!!??
Some of the times that have been most precious to me of late have been when I was trekking in Bhutan or traveling through Papua New Guinea and had absolutely no access to email or cell phone service. It’s liberating to be forced into experiencing what’s right in front of you rather than being distracted by other people’s status updates a half a world away.
Look, I love researching for a destination and connecting with people in my network. Invaluable information can be found online, I’m not dismissing (or judging) that fact.
What I am saying is that I miss my old way of travel.
It’s not for me to say which way is “better,” but something’s definitely been lost in the art of travel in the last 10 years. I don’t expect newbies to travel to understand this. You can only grieve about it if you once experienced it. I just think it’s too bad that those who are just starting out will likely never know this purity of adventure.
Travel Well,
Lacey says
Beth,
I loved this post. Last summer, my husband and I took a road trip with a vague plan and a rough idea of where we were going. We drove from our home in Salt Lake City to visit friends in the San Diego area and then drove up the “coast” of California and through the Redwood forests and back home.
We booked our hotels from my iPhone shortly before we arrived. While we did some research before we left, most things were put together as we went along. The only place we were expected was our first stop in San Diego.
Because we are careful of our privacy we avoided overexposing our vacation on facebook.
We missed some things because we didn’t have a plan, but it was a great balance, I think, between technology and disconnecting.
There’s an irony in our technology. It makes it both easier to make plans and easier to be spontaneous but as it frees us up it also ties us down.
It’s fun to mostly let it go, pull out a real map and just drive.
Beth Whitman says
I love that the technology allowed you more freedom. But it doesn’t sound like you got caught up in it.
The trick for me sometimes is that on a press trip I’m expected to update on facebook and twitter throughout the trip and, like you, I avoid that for privacy reasons. Plus, I’d rather be experiencing the sunset, not trying to get the best pic with my iPhone so I can upload it.
wandering educators says
i think you’re right – we go on “vacation” and take our work with us. it drives me CRAZY.
on the other hand, i like being able to research so much more about a destination’s culture and history…
Sara says
Great article! Thanks for sharing, Beth.
I do love telling people I’m going to disappear for a specific amount of time and then doing just that. I am firm with my boundaries. I turn off my phone and don’t even glance at the computers wherever I’m staying. I don’t have a smart phone, anyway, so I don’t have internet when I’m traveling, and all of my check-in phone calls are ridiculously expensive when traveling internationally. This makes it easy to check out! It’s not a common way to operate, but it’s what my family and friends have come to expect from me. If need be, I check in very infrequently just to let people know I’m ok. Otherwise, I’m immersed in my new location.
One really cool aspect of traveling is that it offers the perfect opportunity to practice being present; over one’s daily life, it’s much easier to see that vacation is a temporary situation that must be paid close attention to.
Admittedly, I do usually plan in advance – A LOT. That said, I feel no sense of obligation in sticking to my “plans;” I use them as a very descriptive and well-researched list of possibilities. Then, I talk with people I encounter when I arrive and see what they suggest. If their suggestions align with my research and that’s what I ultimately wind up feeling like doing when the moment arrives, I check it out. Otherwise, I often forego my original plans to check out what they suggested – or decide to do nothing at all. I believe that going with the flow, honoring what actually works for you in the moment and being open to what comes to you when it feels really, really right is the key to finding magic – both while traveling, and while at home! π
Happy travels!
Beth Whitman says
I wanna travel with YOU Sara π
Beth Shepherd says
I have a journal I kept on my “first big solo adventure,” in 1980 when I lived for a college semester in Amsterdam. I traveled around Europe on weekends, breaks and over the summer. I treasure that journal, my thoughts and observations of seeing a bit of the world outside the state (and country) I grew up in.
tripdiva says
I admit to traveling with a netbook and checking email every other day, but that’s it. I mostly just delete the spam and don’t read the stuff I keep – it can wait till I get home. I HATE being “connected” 24/7 – except for connecting to the people I’m actually WITH while traveling!
Ms. Cathy says
Hi Beth,
What an amazing post!
I have a love/hate relationship with my Netbook right now. Currently, I am couchsurfing all over western Europe and sometimes feel hooked to my laptop (to send off more emails for future plans). In addition, facebook is both wonderful and horrible.
I am a new traveler and have yet to experience the old way of traveling. What’s beautiful is with strong willpower, the old way still exists π