Travel should be regarded as a fundamental aspect of human life.
Travel isn’t logical, yet it’s ingrained in our DNA. This is the reason you ought to begin organizing your next journey today.
In 1961, renowned National Geographic photographer Volkmar Wentzel photographed two women looking at the waves near Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia. Every picture featured in this narrative, including this one, is sourced from the National Geographic image archive.
Lately, my passport has been serving purposes beyond travel. It doubles as a coaster and stabilizes uneven table legs. It’s also perfect for entertaining the cat.
Welcome to the era of letdowns. Trips called off, or those never even scheduled out of fear they’d be scrapped. Gatherings with loved ones, overseas study programs, relaxed getaways by the shore. Vanished. Wiped out by a microscopic pathogen and the lengthy roster of nations barring entry to holders of United States passports.
Just one-third of Americans report having taken an overnight leisure trip since March, with only 38 percent indicating they might do so before the year ends, as per a recent study. A mere 25 percent intend to travel for Thanksgiving, traditionally the peak period for journeys. These figures highlight the stark reality of our halted routines.
Being this sedentary goes against our nature. We are born to travel. Throughout the majority of human history, as Christopher Ryan notes, “we existed as nomadic hunter-gatherers, roaming in small groups of around 150 individuals or fewer.”Progress Perished at Civilization’s HandThis wandering lifestyle was no coincidence. It served a purpose. “Relocating to a nearby group is always a viable choice to escape rising tensions or simply for a shift in social surroundings,” explains Ryan. Robert Louis Stevenson summarized it more briefly: “The important thing is to keep moving.”
What if we’re stuck and can’t go anywhere? What if hunting becomes impossible for us?orWhat should a traveler do when they gather? The options are plentiful. However, “despair” is not among them.
This 1967 aerial shot captures Ocean City, Maryland, where crowds of beachgoers sprawl across the shore, lounging beneath umbrellas or on towels by the sea.
The 1967 autumn celebration in Guadalajara, , featured performers in traditional attire, including musicians and dancers.
Humans are inherently adaptable. Short spans of enforced stillness can be endured. A touch of self-deception plays its part. We convince ourselves we aren’t stuck—just in a temporary pause, much like a jobless salesperson awaiting the next prospect. The hours slip by as we flip through past travel notes and scroll through social media posts. We linger over keepsakes. It’s enough to get by—for a time.
We wear masks of courage. “Staycation Nation,” the headline on the latest edition ofThe Canadian TravellerThe magazine proclaims brightly, as though it were an option rather than a compromise.
Today, the U.S. Travel Association, the trade group representing the industry, is introducing a nationwide revival effort titled “Let’s Go There.” Supported by a partnership of travel-related businesses—including hotels, convention and visitor bureaus, and airlines—the campaign aims to motivate Americans to transform their dormant desire to travel into concrete plans.
The tourism sector is struggling, and so are those who travel. “I fixated on my frustration to the point where it felt almost painful,” said Joelle Diderich, a journalist based in Paris, after calling off five trips earlier this spring.
(Related: What impact has the coronavirus had on the travel sector? These graphs reveal the answer.)
James Hopkins, my friend and a Buddhist residing in Kathmandu, might seem like someone who would flourish during the lockdown—akin to an enforced meditation retreat. Initially, he managed to do just that.
During a recent Skype conversation, James appeared weary and disheartened. He admitted to feeling increasingly restless, yearning for “the former routine of visiting ten countries annually.” Nothing appeared to make a difference, he explained. “No matter how many candles I lit or how much incense I burned, even while residing in one of South Asia’s most revered locations, I still couldn’t break my patterns.”
After we hung up, a sense of relief washed over me, my irritation justified. It’s not my fault—it’s the pandemic. Yet anxiety crept in. If even a Buddhist in Kathmandu is losing patience, how can the rest of us, trapped in stillness, find any solace?
I believe hope is woven into the essence of travel. To travel is to embrace desire and possibility. It requires both faith and creativity to step onto a plane bound for a distant place, yearning for a glimpse of the indescribable. Few experiences rival travel in its embrace of the unknown, inviting us to savor the unpredictability. The most mundane journeys are those where everything unfolds precisely as expected.
Vintage snapshots capturing the elegance of travel in bygone eras
Travel is far from a logical pursuit. There’s little reason to cram into a so-called seat just to be propelled at terrifying speeds to a far-off destination where the language and customs are unfamiliar—all while spending a small fortune. If we paused to weigh the pros and cons, we’d likely never leave home. And yet, we still do.
This is why I remain optimistic about the future of travel. I believe travel is a vital industry and a fundamental human activity. It’s not essential in the same way hospitals or grocery stores are, but rather like books and embraces—nourishment for the spirit. At this moment, we’re pausing between journeys, reflecting on past adventures and eagerly awaiting the next. Whether it’s Zanzibar or the local campground you’ve been meaning to explore, the possibilities are endless.
(Related: Planning a fall camping trip? Here’s your beginner’s guide.)
James Oglethorpe, an experienced traveler, is content to pause for a moment and observe “the gradual shift of light and clouds across the Blue Ridge Mountains” in Virginia, his home. “My imagination can carry me the rest of the distance around this planet and farther.”
The magic lies not in the location itself, but in what we contribute to it and, most importantly, how we engage with it. Travel isn’t defined by the endpoint or the route taken. Instead, it’s about discovering “a new way of seeing the world,” as Henry Miller once noted. A shift in viewpoint doesn’t require venturing to distant places.
Henry David Thoreau understood this better than anyone, spending almost his entire brief life in Concord, Massachusetts. He studied Walden Pond from every possible angle: atop hills, along its edges, and beneath its surface. At times, he would even tilt forward and gaze upside down through his legs, captivated by the reversed landscape. “Seen from the proper perspective, every tempest and every raindrop becomes a rainbow,” he observed.
Thoreau never grew weary of admiring his cherished pond, just as we still appreciate the unassuming charm of our old-fashioned, tangible world. If anything, the pandemic has reignited our fondness for it. We’ve witnessed the isolation of a fragmented, digital life, and (for the majority of us) it holds little appeal. The stands at Chicago’s Wrigley Field, the seats in New York City’s Lincoln Center’s orchestra section, the narrow streets of Tokyo—we long for these spaces. We are beings rooted in place, and that will never change.
Following the events of September 11, numerous forecasts suggested the decline of air travel, if not a significant drop in its use. However, the airline industry recovered consistently, reaching an all-time high of four billion passengers by 2017. Temporarily stripped of the marvel of flying, we grew to value it more deeply, and now we accept the hassles of security screenings and physical checks as the price for the ability to travel vast distances. This allows us to connect in person with others, sharing meals and experiences as tangible, living beings in distant places.
In 1955, landscape architects are based in their studio located in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
In 1956, a visitor captures an image of a majestic century plant in St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands.
As we eagerly reengage with the world, it’s crucial to acknowledge how mass tourism affects our planet. This is the moment to adopt the core principles of sustainable tourism and let them shape your upcoming adventures. Venture beyond popular routes. Extend your stays in places you visit. Choose to travel during quieter periods. Engage with local communities and direct your spending to benefit residents. Think about investing in carbon offsets. Above all, keep in mind that the essence of travel lies in celebrating the diversity that adds vibrancy to our world.
“A major advantage of traveling is the opportunity to connect with new individuals and experience diverse perspectives,” explains Pauline Frommer, travel expert and radio host.
Feel free to start organizing your next getaway. According to researchers, it’s beneficial for your well-being. The process of planning a vacation can be almost as satisfying as the trip itself. Simply imagining a delightful experience brings its own joy. The excitement of looking forward to something is rewarding in its own right.
I’ve experienced the electric excitement of travel anticipation myself. My wife, who typically isn’t drawn to travel photography, has lately been scrolling endlessly through Instagram, mesmerized by images of Alpine cabins and Balinese terraces. “What’s caught your attention?” I inquired. “They’re utterly enchanting,” she said. “They remind me how vast and stunning the world truly is.”
Many of us, including me, have treated travel as something expected. We became complacent and privileged, which is never beneficial. Tom Swick, a friend and travel writer, shares that he once considered travel a certainty. Now, he remarks, “I anticipate embracing it as a privilege.”
Related Subjects
- TRAVEL
- CAPTURING THE WORLD THROUGH TRAVEL PHOTOGRAPHY
- TIMELESS PHOTOGRAPHY
- PSYCHOLOGY
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