An answer written in 2001.
There are those who think it bizarre to leave the shores of Great Britain for a holiday — why suffer the inconveniences and risks of going abroad? You can now be transplanted almost anywhere and cocooned in a protective ‘home’ environment, but that isn’t travel in the sense I mean here. And before you weigh up why you’d go to any particular place, there’s something more basic: I’ve realised that simply being on the move meets an almost primeval need — perhaps a remnant of our nomadic heritage (read What Am I Doing Here by Bruce Chatwin). Robert Louis Stevenson captured the feeling perfectly:
‘Travel broadens the mind’, they say. It’s not an iron law, but it’s a fair generalisation. So is broadening the mind the objective — do we choose a destination to maximise it? Of course not. So what are the criteria for choosing where to go?
Each of us carries a complex set of criteria for judging a trip. The textbook method is to list them, weight them, and score each option against the result. Despite my training, I prefer to mull it over a good pint of beer and sleep on it — a method that has rarely let me down. Still, with jet airliners putting the whole world within reach, consciously naming the key criteria helps filter a vast number of options.
These set the outer bounds of any trip.
‘Criteria’ is a dry word; I prefer ‘threads’. What we’re all after is a rich experience — the ‘tapestry of life’ — so the challenge is to weave as rich a tapestry as possible from a single trip.
Language, dress, music, religion, law, art, wealth, education — measured against my own reference point, a thirty-something middle-income English Christian.
Some of the sharpest memories are edible: snake in China, coffee in Costa Rica, an astonishing seafood soup in Thailand, port in Oporto.
The variety around the globe is tremendous and worth sampling in full. High mountains are my favourite; the undersea world I’ve still to explore.
Often the journey beats the destination: sharing vodka on a Russian airliner, riding on the roofs of Indonesian buses. Interesting aircraft can tip a decision.
One of travel’s great privileges is watching animals in the wild — orangutans in Sumatra, big game in Namibia.
Pushing the body sharpens the senses; trekking in the Himalayas and cycling in Tuscany made the food and the landscape taste better.
A place with tangible links to the past is fascinating — and the more local history you read, the more evocative it becomes. Tunisia came alive that way.
Who you travel with, and meet en route, is one of the biggest influences on a trip. My round-the-world journey was blessed with good company; overland trucks are a fine way to meet like-minded people.
An ambition to reach every country in the world means each trip ideally adds an unvisited one — though this thread can be outweighed.
Once on the road, extra threads add to the richness. Mine, currently:
Capturing a beautiful image is its own reward; the hunt for that ‘National Geographic’ shot keeps you sharp.
Craftsmanship and the natural beauty of wood have always drawn me; finding a good carving true to its place is a challenge.
The collector’s buzz is inexplicable; turning up an interesting coin in a flea market is a small triumph.
I try to take a book tied to the destination — Aldous Huxley on Central America, read in Central America, was enlightening.
Live bands, or just a taxi driver’s radio, give a taste of a place. I always try to buy or record some.
I learn the basics — thank you, good morning, the numbers. That small effort earns a surprising amount of acceptance.
Aviation has been a lifelong interest; I log every flight and love adding a new type to my Flight Log.
That’s the loom. What comes off it is never quite what you planned — which is rather the point.