Off into the World!

Off into the World!

My wife and I are going on a trip around the world, and when we tell people about it, we usually receive either nice or envious comments: That’s great, I’d love to do that sometime, and so on. Of course, it’s good for us, this balm of something special; it empowers and flatters us. But the trick didn’t work with one old friend. He simply said: “Oh, and I like sitting on my couch sometimes.”

So we have been happily talking about where we’re going. And suddenly, the reaction of our completely unimpressed friend makes us ask ourselves why we’re going. Maybe even: Why are we still traveling at all?

Because comfort is actually the most obvious reason why we might prefer to stay at home, on our own couch, in our own bed, with everything we’re used to. Why should we trade all that, even if only temporarily, for something unknown and possibly uncomfortable? And on top of that, there are a few other much more serious things that can quickly dampen any joy

of travel.

You don’t even have to be an aficionado of Alexander von Humboldt to realize that there’s very little left to discover in this world. Most of it can even be explored from your couch using Google Earth. Almost everything has been explored, and much of it so thoroughly that the tourism industry started advertising “travel off the beaten track”. We once

experienced where this idea can lead in Bali. While hiking we found ourselves stranded in front of a sign that read: “Your Lonely Planet guidebook is wrong. This is a private road, and it doesn’t lead through the rice paddies.”

It was the outcry of a distressed local resident, because overtourism has become a colossal problem in quite a few areas. Among other negative consequences of travel is the tourist trash piled all the way up to Mount Everest. Scarce resources are being consumed to such an extent that popular holiday islands must be supplied with water by ship in summer. And every flight to Thailand leaves a nasty carbon footprint.

There are many things that speak against traveling. Does this mean that you can only maintain a clear conscience by staying at home on the couch? Or can you still set off without guilt?

Travelers who want to ease their conscience like to distance themselves from tourists. Here are the good guys, there are the bad guys who destroy everything they seek through their sheer numbers. But this distinction - see the sign in Bali - is often too simplistic and quickly becomes elitist because it ignores that there can be just as good a reason for two weeks of

relaxation in Mallorca as for backpacking around Borneo. And this kind of criticism of tourists is certainly nothing new. Gerhart Hauptmann is quoted as saying in 1897: “People are flocking to Italy, every barber and every butcher is doing it. The entire, tough, inert mass of German philistinism is lurching over the mountains.“

But if everyone still wants to travel today - and hardly anyone wants to be a tourist because of the poor image - then the path to more conscious and sustainable travel can’t really be that difficult to reach. Buses and trains can get you there as well. When flying, there’s the option to voluntarily offset greenhouse gas emissions with a click of the mouse. This is certainly not the solution to all problems, but it’s better than nothing. And you can also trust the old wisdom that travel is educational. Anyone who ventures out into the world will hopefully quickly learn how important it is to protect it.

How you travel is ultimately a very personal decision. Yet traveling clearly stems from a basic human need - for relaxation, a change of scenery, departure and adventure. At its core, it’s always about curiosity and longing. What triggers this longing can be different for each person. Self-respecting individuals might be inspired by Goethe, traveler of Italy.

Others are lured to wild Kurdistan by Karl May. For me, wanderlust was triggered before I could even read: by an airport. My parents’ house was on the Düsseldorf-Lohausen flight path. You could practically look pilots in the eye when they landed, they flew so low over our garden. And when they took off, you could dream about their destination.

That was the big, wide world, but initially only as a promise. Our vacations in these days took us to the Black Forest or Upper Bavaria, and my parents took three days to acclimatize during the journey in our Opel Rekord. I boarded a plane for the first time when I was almost 20, after

graduating from high school and working a few jobs to fill my travel fund. Back then, in the early 1980s, it wasn’t called a gap year. For me, the most important thing was that I was going far away. So this first trip took me to New Zealand, which was the furthest away. Otherwise, it could have been Newfoundland.

Since then, I’ve considered travel the best of all forms of learning and living, and this applies to all types of travel: family vacations with children, adventure trips, and even business trips. The appeal lies in the departure, in being on the move and somewhere else. But what is called added value goes much further. Traveling, in fact, provides threefold benefits: first anticipation, then the experience itself, and finally the memories.

It all begins long before the backpack or trolley is packed. The first step is to fill the shelves with even more travel guides. Then thoughts revolve around the destination. Jakarta sounds great, but Yogyakarta even better - just because of the prefix, and then there are the

temples. Possible travel routes are checked in advance, and thanks to the internet, accommodations can be wonderfully tested in advance. The anticipation is a pure promise of happiness - but it remains a promise in the subjunctive.

Of course, there are moments of travel when all of this comes true. Pure happiness can come when a long-held dream materializes - for example, when I visited the Taj Mahal in India, where I stood in line with tears in my eyes because, despite the crowds, this tomb is in reality even more beautiful and perfect than in any picture. But happiness can also

overwhelm you, completely unexpectedly, even in places that are considered quite unpleasant. On a cold morning in Kabul, the world can feel perfectly round for a moment, as the first light falls on the bare mountains and a few cyclists wrapped in thick blankets peacefully make their way.

But there is also the opposite: disappointment, when your will and imagination collide with the reality of the world while traveling. Some longed-for places look different than in the brochure, and they smell different too. The sun may shine constantly, but it quickly leads to

sunburn. You look for Arcadia and find only everyday life. You have to go through it, that’s often the case - and that’s how it has to be. Because

traveling isn’t about the search for eternal beauty.

Sights are ultimately just accessory because the essential usually happens in the background. I once went to Jaipur in India because of the much-praised Palace of the Winds. Hawa Mahal, as those in the know will

know, was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawaj Pratap Singh. A beautiful pink building, a great story about the harem women who, undetected behind the façade, could observe the goings-on outside. But what ultimately stuck with me from this trip through Rajasthan was a dusty intersection where I spent hours observing the goings-on out of sheer boredom, a glass of tea in hand, because my travel companion was stuck in her hotel room with intestinal problems, which also happens.

Travel creates its own time and its own space, which you can use for observation and, especially, for encounters. Nowhere else than on the road do you so easily meet other travelers and even those people who are often so strangely described in travel guides as “locals.” This may tempt some travelers to behave like colonial rulers. Others cultivate a cult

as if the people who live where they happen to be traveling were the “noble savages” idealized by Rousseau and the Romantics. But most ultimately discover that they are simply people like them.

In general, travel is the best antidote to prejudice, and anyone who experiences themselves as a stranger in a foreign land should be immunized against xenophobia. Traveling is not about judging, but about understanding. Moreover, you don’t need a clear idea of what you want to find, but rather an openness to what will happen to you. Mishaps can prove to be a blessing because they can push the carefully planned into an unplanned and often more interesting direction. Even the uneventful can become an experience, like that day on a country road on New Zealand’s South Island, back on my first trip.

There I stood, hitchhiking, thumb out, and stood and stood and stood. None of the few cars that passed wanted to stop, and that evening I pitched my tent on the side of the road in exactly the same spot where I had hopefully packed it up that very morning. There are few

days in my life that I can remember so clearly - the sky, the fast-moving clouds, and the gray of the asphalt.

Until today I still like to recount the things I cursed out loud back then. Those who travel usually bring home a pile of good stories. This comes with a few hazards - from slide show nights to warnings: Watch out, Grandpa is talking about traveling again. But overall, such a treasure

trove of anecdotes is certainly one of the best returns from traveling.

Moreover, memories can afford to focus on the essence. What sticks in my memory isn’t the hardship of a long ride in a rocking bus, but the stop at a colorful market where they sold this freshly squeezed fruit juice.

But you have to earn these memories, and to do so, you have to set out. Whether you do it as a young or older person is fundamentally irrelevant. Of course, there’s more spontaneity and carefree fun in youth, and less rheumatism and need for rest. But for almost all travelers, curiosity is constantly reawakened, enthusiasm rekindled. That’s worth some of the hardship.

In the best-case scenario, when everything has been experienced, enjoyed, and endured, we look forward to sitting back on our couch at the end of our world trip. But it’s likely that a few new travel guides will soon appear on the coffee table.

From the Süddeutsche Zeitung, April 26/27, 2025

Translation: Lisa Kremer