Travel As The Ultimate View-Changer
Visitor or bucket lister? Does 'the way we travel' alter our experience?
While gallivanting off into various ways that changing your perspective can be good for you – by thinking differently, or diving into new activities in It’s All About The View; or by reading widely in Three View-Changing Books – I’m amused to have neglected perhaps the most obvious option. What can ‘change your view,’ quite literally? Why travel, of course!
Firstly though, a caveat. Travel can be a loaded word. So before you vaporise into any unaffordable-for-mere-mortals, Insta-fantasies of ice hotels in space, or private butler-serviced, climate-friendly, over-lagoon cabinas, let me say that my version of travel can also mean going ‘across the valley,’ or ‘to the other side of town.’
I would suggest that travel also divides into necessary or non-necessary. Necessary travel includes things like… escapes. A person has to leave one place for another, because they are oppressed in some way, or they can’t find work, or love, or friends. Or a famine has struck. In these cases, survival is perhaps the biggest driver. Business is another kind of necessary. Someone has to travel simply to observe, or gather with other people, or sign important documents: in-person. But because ‘the work’ is so central to their journey, they barely get to experience any of the view-changing benefits of travel.
Today though, I’m more focused on non-necessary travel. Travel that stems from curiosity – the desire to experience different kinds of people, cultures, geographies, languages, cuisines. Travel because an individual has made a conscious choice (and is blessed to have the necessary resources) to just GO! But here again, there are different ways of GOing. In the following text, penned by my great aunt in 1928 in an article entitled Tourists’ Luck, published in The Home, Jean Curlewis delineates between what today we might call a ‘bucket-lister’ or ‘tourist,’ as opposed to a ‘visitor/traveller.’ (And yes, this is the same great aunt I wrote about in Brightness from 100 Years Ago.)
“There are two kinds — both good — of tourists. There are those who, with guide book and timetable, map out their attack on a city beforehand and then follow it, watch in hand. (“I did that gallery in twenty-five minutes, four seconds,” said the young American, “and if I’d had my spiked shoes, I could have done it in half the time.”)
And there are the others — the lazy ones — who make no plans, scan no timetables, do nothing whatever but sit in cafes, drinking the beverage of the country, chatting with the waiter, and watching, through half closed lids, the tohu-bohu of the streets. Or else, avoiding museums and art galleries with practised skill, they drift off down side streets from which, having become involved in a wedding, or a fight, or a funeral, they only emerge an hour after the personally-conducted char-a-banc tour to the principal beauty spots (tea included) has departed. They leave Paris without seeing the Louvre, London, without inspecting the Tower. All they seek is the “feel” of a city.
Of course to be a tourist of the second sort requires the possession of a certain flair, a certain sort of luck. Without it the tourist finds nothing down side streets but blind alleys and blank walls.”
Travel – and its many pleasures, sadnesses, consequences and benefits – is a constant theme in the writings of my dear friend Inez Baranay. Having observed oodles of my travels over many years (meaning: she has earned the right to comment!) Inez has observed that I am one of those ‘lucky tourists’ as described by my great aunt. Yes, after flying to Tokyo on a one-way ticket, I might manage to lose the crucial thing I had planned to make me money for ongoing travel. Until suddenly, I’m lucky enough to land a ridiculously unexpected job that pays me handsomely, and becomes a hilarious dinner party story forever more. And yes, while travelling in Tibet/Nepal, I might manage to catch a ridiculously deadly combination of diseases. Until I’m then lucky enough to be in a London hospital when I wake up from a coma, amongst friends and family who are kind enough to care for me. And yes, in New York I might get evicted from an apartment because an unscrupulous boyfriend forges my cheques and robs me of my big city innocence. Until I’m lucky enough, via a share ad in the Village Voice, to land an extraordinary home for the next 14 years, plus a life-long friend in the artist David Kucera.
So yes Ms Baranay, I will grant you that I have had luck on my side. But as we both know, in order to truly capitalise on luck that may fall in your lap, a person needs a few other things at the ready… things like preparedness, an open attitude, skill, curiosity, passion… these are some quick ones I can think of. Ask any actor whose career catapulted after they got their big break. Yes, they might have been lucky enough to have been in the right place to meet the right person at the right time. But in addition: they knew how to act, they’d learned all their lines, and because they’d done their research, they ‘just happened’ to be wearing the exact shade of green that their character would always wear. It’s rarely just luck. It’s usually luck plus plus.
In my case, in travel, it’s probably my gift of the gab that brings me my luck. I’ve pretty much always ignored the old advice of, “Don’t talk to strangers.” What would be the point of that?! Strangers can be fascinating, wise and inspiring! Strangers can be fun! Sure, occasionally they can also be whackos. Or they can give you the heebie-jeebies. But finding out which kind they’re going to be is already half the fun! I’ve had my eyes opened to some unforgettable experiences while travelling, simply by striking up conversations – sometimes with locals, sometimes with other travelers. Locals have then shown me parts of their world I would never have found without their assistance. And fellow travelers have shared ways they travel that are different to mine, and have encouraged me to try a destination I might never have thought of.
That said, this approach has down sides. After yet another instance of my relatively simple travel plans being thrown into disarray, by yet another wildly unexpected adventure, one of my early travel journals notes, “If only I could learn how to shut up and stop meeting interesting people, I might finally get somewhere!” And then there are ups to the downs. In rural China, not long after making that journal entry, while strolling across a bridge with Pernilla, a Swedish fellow traveler, a rickshaw hurtled past us, out of which its driver grinned and shouted back a huge, “Hey Matthew!” Pernilla turned to me, incredulous. “Who was that? And how on earth do you know someone, all the way out here?” I shrugged, since I only had the truth to answer her with. “That’s John - a crazy stockbroker I hung out with in Shanghai last week,” I said, as I watched his rusty red rickshaw disappear in a flurry of dust.
A bunch of years ago, I did some copywriting for Emirates, on various international campaigns. Part of the reason I enjoyed doing this work was that I could thoroughly get behind their marketing premise at the time. This was: “Travel makes the world a better place by connecting people to ‘difference’ in all its many forms.”* And that as a result, travellers (speaking broadly) tend to be more empathetic, because they experience cultural differences at a personal level. In short: travel changes your view. And that’s a good thing. I agree, and still believe this to be true – so long as it’s travel that is being undertaken with an open, curious mind.
*(It was still slightly before it became so starkly apparent that airline fossil fuel consumption does NOT make the world a better place.)
The Emirates work led me to some different, but associated kinds of writing; this time for Cuba Travel Network. Here I had the pleasure of writing about carefully crafted small tours that had nothing to do with bucket lists, and everything to do with view-changing. CTN’s founder Eddie Lubbers - who now heads up another company called Destino - has a gigantic passion for travel. He believes to his core that, when done right, travel can change people, for the better. So I was brought on to help him create items that he / we believed would heighten a traveller’s experience of Cuba.
Because music in so many varieties is intrinsic to this country, I crafted a new company tagline: Welcome to rhythm - and then we created elements to fit the various rhythms one might encounter during a visit. These included a combination travel guide/travel journal, a bespoke cigar + rum box, and a card game for quieter moments called Cuba Quiz Cards, amongst other items pictured below. At one point I suggested to Eddie, “As travellers we often take from locals. We want their information. “Excuse me, where’s the train station?” “What’s the shortest path to the waterfall?” etc. What if, instead, we were to give something to a local? Like… how about a compliment?” To my great joy, Eddie loved the idea, and you’ll find some of these Spanish compliments, or piropos, below.
It was inspiring, invigorating work to write and create all these things for Cuba Travel Network. And, um well yeah, lucky me again I guess - I got to visit Cuba more than once, and on one trip drove the entire length of the country with my husband. It was an adventure from start to finish, where we managed to explore some relatively untouched corners of the country, because of my work associations. And yes, of course I passed out numerous compliments along the way!
Which brings me to the importance of the way one travels, and how you find travel information. Yes the internet has made many aspects a whole lot easier, but social media has brought about other phenomena that my friend John Ryrie, a travel agent with Travel Counsellors outlines beautifully.
“I think bucket lists today are getting skewed by social media and the travel bragging people are engaging with. Images are often positing unrealistic travel ideas. So while someone might set out with good ‘travel intentions,’ they then get so wrapped up in ticking items off their list, that completing the list becomes a task in itself. Meanwhile, they miss opportunities and unplanned moments that might bring real happiness. And while racing through those lists there are additional consequences – some places are getting so flooded with list-oriented tourists, they’re losing the spark that made that place authentic in the first place.”
I’ll admit I’ve never been attracted to a bucket list. For starters, I don’t like it as an expression, no matter what kind of items might be on it, travel or otherwise! But hey, that said, I am open-minded, and I love that John has made me rethink what a bucket list can be, with the following.
“Travel is a privilege and not a right, and having a bucket list doesn’t have to be a list of far-flung or extreme experiences. It could also mean… going back to a place from earlier in your life that evokes special meaning or particular emotions. Or… travelling with a specific person to a place that means so much to them you want to share in their experience of that place. I think that ideally, travel should include unique, once in a lifetime moments. One of mine was that I kindof fell into a Cambodian wedding while walking back to my hotel in Battambang, during a business trip. Before I knew it I was dancing on-stage with the bride’s mother and a local rock band. I’m sure the bride and groom will never forget the crazy English guy that suddenly appeared at their wedding, nor will I ever forget them. Priceless! The bride’s mother even tried to match me up with another one of her daughters!!!”
Excellent story! And who knew my great aunt would have predicted this, all the way back in 1928 with, “…the lazy ones who drift off down side streets from which, having become involved in a wedding, or a fight, or a funeral…”
If you might like a bit of help in planning any kind of trip, and like interacting with a friendly, knowledgeable person instead of merely a keyboard and a screen then please, do yourself a favour and contact John. I’m getting zero commission and zero perks for suggesting this. It’s simply that John has helped arrange some great trips for me, and hey, this is Bright Side Writings - maybe he can do something great for you as well!
In closing, I’d like to return to something I said - that travel can also mean going across a valley or across town. Or perhaps even… visiting a neighbour. Here’s how.
Not long ago, my husband and I met a lovely couple in their 70s who live in our building: Ton and Jeanneke. There was an instant connection, the kind of warmth that comes with discovering mutual interests and shared humour. We learned that Jeanneke liked to paint and was a reiki master, and that they both loved to travel all over Europe in their camper van. But… Jeanneke was suffering from an incurable illness and we learned didn’t have long to live. Not that this really slowed her down. She insisted on riding her bicycle to hospital for her chemotherapy treatments!
Anyway, during one visit to their apartment, Jeanneke, with Ton, took the time to take us around their apartment to show us her paintings, describe the scenes they depicted, explain how she and Ton had ended up in those places, and tell us associated stories. Through the combination of really observing these paintings and hearing the stories, I now feel connections to places in France, and I can ‘feel’ some of the colours of Norwegian fjords. These things are rich and real, inspiring and inviting to me.
Jeanneke died on January 10th. Mart and I had the privilege of attending her funeral this past Thursday. It was incredibly moving, as she was loved by many. Since then, Ton has shuffled a painting or two in their apartment, in order to have an early portrait of Jeanneke now where he can always see it, with a light trained on it. She was, and will remain his light. (Jeanneke had preferred that piece somewhat in a corner, not wanting a portrait of her to claim attention over other paintings.)
So dear Jeanneke, in case you have wifi where you are and can read this: I’m dedicating this Bright Side post to you. You inspired me with your courage and humour, and your deep love of travel. You saw travel as a fundamental path to understanding the human spirit that connects us all. I wish you love and light in your ongoing journey, Jeanneke, and I will look for you when I gaze up into the stars.
And to my readers here, please carry Jeanneke’s passing not as sadness, but as brightness and inspiration into how you can travel as well, in whatever ways suit you. I hope any travels you make connect you with some wonderfully unexpected, fellow human beings.
Love and light,
Matthew.
And just in case writing is something YOU like to do as well, you might or might not know that I lead online writing workshops. And I have a new one coming up, starting on Feb. 07. Please visit Amsterdam Writers for more information.
Hi Matthew, this article brings up so so many thoughts and memories for me that I have hold myself back in commenting or revisiting a memory on just about every point. So where do I start? I remember those Emirates advertisements so clearly as they, without wanting to sound corny ( congratulations by the way, they are superb), spoke to me and my experiences, my curiosity, my inherent "wanderlust". All encompassing ; adventure, exploration, food, language, culture, history and geographies. And, if I delve deep into my memories in trying to understand my wanderlust I am drawn to pre-school memories, particularly the tan-bark playground where, with boundless imagination, lacking any inhibitions, on a imaginary raft or boat , I was navigating some treacherous river through a deep jungle with my small group of intrepid friends that I had rallied for the adventure. Of course, we'd encounter everything. Dangerous rapids, crocodiles, boa constrictors, get stuck in quicksand and dare I say come into contact with the "natives" or rescuing captured friends. Escaping calamity in every moment. It was a game that I acted and reenacted almost day when I could. No doubt there was some influence from the television of the time and publications like "Boys Own Adventure" and those rope bridges and mock boats embedded in the playground. As I grew up trips to the dentist provided another window into the world beyond my suburban surrounds with the omnipresent stack of National Geographic magazines in the waiting room. I dreamed of being an explorer, in the noblest of terms , and readily picked up the Encyclopedias that were on our book shelves at home and read them for fun. Fast forward to my late teens and I pined for travel or rather sub consciously needed to "de-school" myself . At the first opportunity I could , I took off on what now feels like a life of episodic adventures, first arriving in Indonesia wanting to make a overland trip to London to dive into it's burgeoning independent music scene in the early 80's. But I never made it to London. Sth East Asia, Nepal and India were more enthralling. A year of carrying my possessions on my back , encountering strangers, learning languages, discovering and eating new cuisines, getting sick in remote places, and exploring unbeaten rarely trodden tracks. From Nusa Tenggara, the Aceh Highlands and the jungles of Sumatra, trekking in the Himalayas, illegally crossing briefly into Tibet, being held up at gunpoint in the Golden Triangle, racing through Burma trying to take it all in in one week, walking in the Thar desert, living in villages in the Rann of Kaatch. And all through these expansive experiences meeting and talking to strangers , as you point out, was "de rigueur " . The one main stranger , now dear friend, was a young German chap , named Eibes whom I met at a "crash pad" on Singapore's Bencoolen St. This one liaison would have a dramatic impact on my future adventures. We traveled back into central Sumatra together on smugglers ferries running from Bataam to Pelambang through the Riu Archipelago, out to the Mentawi Islands on the deck of a trading ship and up past Lake Toba and Medan into the Gayo Highlands of Aceh. Intrepid, tough traveling and adventurous to say the least. Eibes and I remained close friends where ever we were and a few years later he asked me to join an Expedition, akin to one from the age of explorers. I crossed the planet again and I joined a young mixed international crew. Circumnavigated Sth America and sailed to Antarctica from Puerto Rico and back on the most unlikely of ships, a ferro cement junk, and took a side trip up the Amazon River on the river boats to Manaus. Through it all, somehow, I had acted out two childhood dreams, Antarctica and The Amazon, in one out of a two year journey.
What is clear to me is that while travel is often defined by going from point A to B , or more recently as you point out a bucket list , for me it's was really the journey in between. A journey with all the sensory experiences, ups, downs, spills and thrills, exotic cultures, connections with people and being invited into those communal celebrations that continually changed my view. Another key has been purpose and as I matured with a career and parent responsibilities my wife and I continued to travel with our small family, working and living in the US, Europe, Nth Africa and China. The experience of adapting and living in a new country, learning its cultural norms and immersing oneself and family within it, as part of the social fabric and landscape for years at a time, profoundly changed more than my view but a created completely new perspectives to take a view from. Today my grown children are bi lingual , real Third Culture Kids as a result. The other and possibly the most magical key on view has always been language. Language is the great leveler in human commonality, the great door opener, and I realise that while I love the challenge of learning them, I also like to play with them too. I can recall telling a room of company executives in China, whom I was teaching and coaching English, in Mandarin, how much I love language and its constructions, deftly flexing between both languages humorously. The room was beaming with relaxed smiles. It was like I had flicked a switch on in me and my students over time. It was a wonderful feeling and from then on I made that effort of trying to always push for the element fun and commonality in bringing life experiences into my classes well beyond the text book.
My wife and I continue on in our life of adventure. I coin it in a phrase "Our Endless Road Trip". It's like we are bouncing along an irregular road, navigating bends, climbing winding mountain roads, slowing in snow and fog, crossing the high mountains passes, trans versing long lush valleys, cruising desert roads, and sometimes speeding along expressways . What is precious for us, is that the view is forever changing.
Wonderful, Matthew! Thank you for this. I will pay tribute to Jeanneke in an upcoming essay re Travel, in forthcoming anthology on Travel being produced by the The Sitting Room, https://sittingroomlibrary.org AND, if I'm really clever, I'll squeeze in a word on Jean Curlewis.
As ever, will wishes to you.