My parents taught me two things: Travel has value, money does not

My parents instilled in me two important ideas during childhood: travel has true value and money does not. These, it turns out, were contradictory lessons and, in some ways, awful advice. My parents sacrificed their financial futures to take us on fun, adventurous holidays. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but is possibly the source of some regret now.

Still, faithful son that I was, and remain, I have always travelled in the same way – widely and passionately – to the detriment of my bank account and fiscal future. Money? What is money? It’s a thing that can be turned into experiences, that can take you to wild, unimaginable places and let you do the most exciting things. You won’t have a house when you get home. You won’t have a nice car or a stable career like most of your friends. But you will have lived.

There’s a point when some of us realise that travel isn’t just part of our lives – it is our lives. It’s our defining characteristic, our chief driver of pleasure, our obsession and our joy. This can feel like a manufactured personality trait to some, a cop-out for people who don’t have anything else to say about themselves. And maybe that’s true. But the fact remains that the act of travelling, the thrill of exploration, is who I am and what I do, as it is for so many people reading these pages.

But why do we travel? What has a lifetime of trips taught us about ourselves and about the world? I’ve travelled for many reasons. I’ve travelled to go somewhere, but I’ve also travelled to get away. I’ve had times where I’ve felt stagnant, like nothing was really happening for me. So what do you do? You buy a plane ticket, you go.

I’ve travelled after relationship break-ups, because surely being somewhere else will make you feel something else, right? I’ve travelled because I’ve wanted to leave a job that wasn’t going anywhere, and there’s never a better reason to take that plunge than having a one-way ticket booked.

And then, after a lifetime of these trips, you get to know the world. You learn essential lessons like this: that most people are good. Most people want the same, simple things you do, whether they live in Bangkok or Bangladesh, Paris or Paraguay. They want a safe, comfortable life, with food for their kids and a roof over their head. They want a team to support and a community to rally around. Most people are friendly, kind, inquisitive, generous. The more you see of the world the more you understand its diversity and its differences, but the more you appreciate the vital desires and traits that bind us all together.

Another thing I’ve come to learn: there’s no such thing as “travellers” and “tourists”, but there is a difference between a “holiday” and a “trip”. It’s foolish to trick yourself into thinking you’re any better than the hordes who pack into all the popular places, to stroll down Las Ramblas in Barcelona and complain about all the tourists when you, demonstrably, are the same.

But you can travel for different reasons. You can go on what you would call a holiday, where the focus is on recharging and enjoying, without too much movement or hassle. And that’s a completely fine and reasonable thing to do. Or, you can go on a trip, which is more about education, about movement, about the thrill of the new and the intimidating and the unpredictable. This, too, is a completely fine and reasonable thing to do.

The more I have travelled, the less I have come to care about the competitive aspect that creeps in sometimes, the country counting, the air-miles collecting, the Instagram-friendly locations to earn you travel cred. My focus is on personal enjoyment, on lightening my footprint, on going places I am passionate about and doing it in a way that does the least damage.

And, of course, life comes full circle, because now I’m a parent I have my own kids who I hope will learn these important lessons. Travel has value. It’s essential. It will give you the world.
But, maybe start saving some money, too.