This GloboTreks post on why it’s better to travel when you’re young really got me thinking.

After two long international backpacking trips, staying in hostels and meeting other travelers in beach bars and rooftop cafes, I’m really happy I didn’t dash off on a big international adventure the day I turned 18. 

I’ve met tons of younger travelers who’ve inspired me; this is not a post to mock young backpackers, at all.  And I feel I should also remind everyone that I’m only 29, myself.  So when I’m referring to younger travelers, and to waiting till I was older, I’m talking about the decision of whether to travel at 18 or 20 - not advocating that people wait till retirement!

I Knew Myself

There’s something to be said for confidence, self-awareness, and the power of feeling free to make your own choices.  At eighteen, I was still very concerned with fitting in with my peers and, sadly, willing to do a lot of things only because they seemed like the cool things to do.  Waiting until I had the courage to do what I wanted regardless of others made a huge impact on my travels.  I felt more comfortable traveling solo, and I wasn’t too concerned about choosing destinations that were the “hot” places to travel among my friends.  I also feel free, now that I’m a little older, to do what I really want to do when I’m traveling, even if it’s not what other travelers are doing.  Some people are iconoclasts at twenty.  But most of us aren’t, and many of the university-age travelers I’ve met don’t seem to have those qualities.

I Was Prepared

When I booked my ticket to India at 26, very few of the main activities of travel were new to me.  For one thing, I’d been traveling unescorted by my parents for almost a decade thanks to my decision to move to Boston, and later New York, from my home in Louisiana.  I’d explored new cities on my own, without knowing anyone within a thousand miles.  I’d taken some short trips to Europe, so I knew what jetlag and language barriers felt like.  All of these experiences made spending two months backpacking around India seem like a logical extension of skills I’d already built, rather than a big scary adventure I was totally unprepared to face.  Which made traveling to a supposedly stressful country much less overwhelming.  Except for the cows, taking a taxi from the Mumbai airport to my hotel near Colaba didn’t feel all that different from taking a taxi from LAX to my hotel in Culver City.

I Knew Where I Wanted To Go

When I finally had the chance to take my first long backpacking journey, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.  I didn’t opt to do the classic Euro Trip, or to head for the backpacker’s mecca of Southeast Asia, or to build a clone of some trip a friend had taken.  I wanted to go to India.  I really wanted to go to India - I’d had a dog-eared India guidebook on my nightstand for at least a year, I knew the high and low seasons, what parts of the country I most wanted to see, and what the food and culture were like.  I could recognize a good airfare, had a sense of what scams to avoid, and knew how to travel around the country efficiently.

And, thus, I had an amazing time in India.  Where I met scores of miserable nineteen-year-olds who were traveling on a whim, with no sense of what this place was and how to approach it.

I Knew The Value Of Time And Money

I think my biggest backpacker pet peeve is the cliche of the party hostel (or backpacker bar, or, y’know, Amsterdam).  A bunch of glorified teenagers who mainly seemed to be traveling for the excuse to sleep all day and get smashed every night.

Because I had to wait until I could fund my own trips, I knew what that money meant.  I knew how hard it had been to support myself as well as saving for a long-term overseas journey.  I knew that I would likely never have the chance to come back, so I should spend my days experiencing it rather than slouching hungover in front of the TV in the hostel.  And, regardless of how many Australians it annoys, I firmly believe that I’m a better traveler for that awareness.

I Had Time To Get To Know My Home Country

While I was waiting around, becoming more confident, saving my pennies, and figuring out what I really wanted in a journey, I was also coming of age at home.  I traveled domestically as much as possible.  I became politically active, and my understanding of what America means and who we are as a nation and a culture developed far beyond any Poli Sci course syllabus.  I fought hard for my ideals and came away with a knowledge of the world and my place in it that never could have taken root had I spent that time in Costa Rica or Berlin.  Now when I travel abroad, I do so as a far more informed traveler.  This really comes in handy when I have the chance to meet locals because I can have much deeper and more nuanced interactions than I could at eighteen. 

P.S.  That’s me, up there, at 17, looking confident and adorable but definitely not ready for a year-long RTW backpacking adventure.  From the cut and color, I’m guessing it was a couple months before my first trip to Italy?