1) Unplugged travel is the best travel
Abandon your mobile phone, laptop, iPod, and all such links to family, friends, and work colleagues. Concentrate on where you are and derive your entertainment from immediate stimuli, the tangible world around you. Increasingly, in hostels and guesthouses one sees “independent” travelers eagerly settling down in front of computers instead of conversing with fellow travelers, they seem only partially “abroad,” unable to cut their links with home. Evidently the nanny state – and the concomitant trend among parents to overprotect offspring – has alarmingly diminished the younger generation’s self-reliance. And who is to blame for this entrapment in cyberspace? The fussy folks back at base, awaiting the daily (or twice daily) email of reassurance.
2) Language fluency isn’t a necessity
Although ignorance of the local language thwarts exchanges of ideas, it’s unimportant on a practical level. I’ve wandered around four continents using only English and a few courtesy phrases of Tibetan, Amharic, Quechua, Albanian, or whatever. Our basic needs — sleeping, eating, drinking — can always be indicated by signs or globally understood noises. Even on the emotional level, the language barrier is quite porous. People’s features, particularly their eyes, are wonderfully eloquent. In our everyday lives, the extent to which we wordlessly communicate is taken for granted. In “far-flungery,” where nobody within a hundred miles speaks a word of any European language, one fully appreciates the range of moods and subtle feelings that may be conveyed visually.
3) Traveling with your kids can open doors
In some countries two adults traveling together may be perceived as providing mutual support, making acceptance by locals less spontaneous and complete. But a child’s presence emphasizes your trust in the community’s goodwill. And because children pay little attention to racial or cultural differences, junior companions rapidly demolish barriers of shyness or apprehension often raised when foreigners unexpectedly approach a remote village.
Excerpted from Paul Theroux’s The Tao of Travel. See also: Life at Full Tilt: The Selected Writings of Dervla Murphy.
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