Author: Nomadic Dragon

The other day, I was discussing recent vacations with a few colleagues over lunch. At one point I mentioned a boat trip that we took, “while we were on a family safari in Nepal.” There was silence for a few seconds, then someone said, “that phrase must win everytime, unless you’re talking to someone who’s been to the moon.” I thought about that reaction for a few days. Had I been trying to “win” the conversation? Had I unwittingly fostered travel envy? Was I humblebragging?

It’s easy to say that I don’t keep score or try to “win” by having the most extravagant travel stories. It’s harder to examine this claim from a detached position and determine if that’s really true. Here are a few things to consider when you are faced with travel envy.

Travel Envy – Made Worse by Social Media

Social media sites are full of carefully curated photos and posts about sun-drenched beaches and pristine hiking trails. Everyone tries to put his best foot forward and show the glamorous side of life. This is even more pronounced with travel writing, where one’s job is to highlight reasons to travel and the best places to go.

This is going to inspire some people and frustrate others. A few might even get depressed, worried about how they can’t live the lives that they see portrayed online. You can’t control how other people feel. You can control what you put out into the world and your motives for doing so.

Examine Your Motives for Travel

Why do you travel? What drives you? Make an honest assessment of why you travel. For me, that’s an easy question to answer. I’ve always been driven by a sense of wanderlust and a desire to see the world. I realize it’s impossible to see all of the world. One could spend a lifetime in one country, whether it’s Germany or India, and still not see everything.

Because of this, it’s pointless to keep score. There is no way to “win” this competition because it’s not a competition. But that doesn’t make me want to stay home and not travel. It makes me joyous to know that there’s always going to be some new place or experience to look forward to. Where, how, and how long to travel are highly personalized questions.

Examine Your Motives for Discussing Travel

Why do you discuss your travels? In the instance that I mentioned at the beginning of this post, we were discussing things we’ve done on vacation that were risky. The boat trip definitely fit that description. So upon reflection, I still don’t think my comment was a #humblebrag.

It is useful, however, to think about those comments before you say them. Ask yourself, “am I trying to top the last thing that was said?” If so, maybe you just keep listening instead.

Looking back, there are times that I have bragged about travel, like the Twitter post below.

This conversation served to remind me to check my motives.

Have a Sense of Humor

No matter what you say, there’s always a chance that someone will be offended or envious. As I noted before, you’re not responsible for the reactions of others. You can help defuse any tension, however, with a good sense of humor or a self-deprecating remark. In my case, it’s far cheaper to get to Katmandu than Kansas given that I live in Singapore. I explained as much, and that went a long way towards defusing the awkward moment.

Have you encountered travel envy? How did you deal with it?

I’m glad my phone tracks the number of stairs climbed, because I lost count after the first hour. I had read voraciously to prepare for our family’s Himalayan trek. Everyone mentioned the scenery. Very few mentioned the stairs. According to my phone, we climbed around 163 flights of stairs each day. That’s the number of floors in the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. I guess that’s fitting since we were in the Himalayas, the tallest mountains in the world.

Getting there

Most Himalayan trek routes last for a week or more. The route to Annapurna base camp can take 3 weeks. We didn’t have that kind of time, so we did a short trek – just three days. Based on a friend’s recommendation, I booked the trip through Bold Adventures Nepal. They provided us with a guide and two porters and made all of the arrangements.

We flew from Kathmandu to Pokhara, a 20 minute flight that saves you a grueling 8 hour drive. Plus now we’ve flown on Yeti Airlines, so that’s good.

It still took 3 hours on the road from Pokhara to get to Kimche, the starting point for our trek.

Life on the Road

We walked for three days, up mountains and down mountains. The first day’s climb took us to Ghandruk (elevation 2000 meters), the capital of the Gurung people. Gurungs are a minority ethnic group in Nepal. Ghandruk is a popular stop on the trekking circuit because it offers good views of Annapurna and other mountains.

Most of the Nepalese in the Himalayas live in villages where there are no roads. Everything gets carried there by mule train or on someone’s back.

We began to notice that prices increased as we went higher. A bottle of water that was 50 rupee ($0.50) in Kimche might be 200 rupee ($2.00) in Jhinhu. That’s understandable since someone had to haul it up there and haul the empty bottle back down.

We left Ghandruk after an early breakfast and set out for Jhinhu. Distances between towns are measured in time, not miles. It’s a four hour walk to Jhinhu, up and down mountains. The reward was a natural hot springs where we could soak our sore muscles and relax.

Our porters carried some of our gear, though I carried my own pack. Time became elastic as we slowly climbed. My sons were the only children that we saw on the trail. I guess most people don’t bring their kids. I’m not sure why.

On the third day we walked to Siwai and met our car. Just a quick 3 hour drive back to Pokhara, which was starting to feel like a metropolis compared to the villages we stayed in.

Though we did see the mountains from the trail, one of the best views we had was from the roof of the Pokhara airport.

Going back

The stereotype of someone doing a Himalayan trek is a young twenty-something or a retiree, and that’s understandable. They’ve got time. I would love to go back to Nepal and do a longer trek. Take my time and relax. Enjoy the scenery more. Drink more tea. Live more simply. And someday I will.

 

Our four-wheeler slipped and slid on the monsoon-soaked dirt road. I laughed nervously and gripped the door with white knuckles. As we came around the corner, we saw burning tires blocking the narrow road. That’s when I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have brought my kids on this trip after all. Is it ever acceptable to expose kids to dangerous travel?

How do you quantify danger? What risks are acceptable? Do you take more risks traveling solo than you do with your kids?

I thought a lot about these questions this summer when I took my kids to Nepal. It was the height of the rainy season, which made the steep mountain roads seem especially treacherous. Almost every day I would read about a vehicle that slid off the road and fell hundreds of feet somewhere in the country. The incident with the burning tires was resolved peacefully, but not before we sat for a few hours on the road waiting.

As I reflected on these worries, I realized that what I was missing was not safety, but the illusion of control. Going about my daily life back home, I delude myself into thinking that I can control the threats that my kids face more easily than I could on this trip. In reality, motor vehicle accidents are the leading cause of death for children in America. There’s no guarantee that we would have been any safer on a road back home.

This is not to say that you should needlessly expose your family to foolish risks. Often though, we exaggerate risk when we are outside our comfort zones and minimize it when we are in our comfort zones. Do your research, take precautions, but don’t let fear paralyze you into not traveling.

Weighing the risks against the benefits of the trip, I’m still glad we went.  We’re going back to Nepal in a few weeks – not during the rainy season.