Out There: Thoughts About Immersive Travel

Often I am struck by the observation that we live in a time and place of amazing natural, cultural and technological wonders, but for the most part, it fails to amaze us. There is an expression that fish do not see the water they live in, and in a sense the same is true for us. We swim in a sea of wi-fi, electricity, hot water, air conditioning, humidity controls and even more esoteric concepts such as freedom and the rule of law. Take just one or two of these things away, even for a week or two, and we can get a pretty good idea how the fish feels when it's plucked from the sea.

But maybe that's why dolphins love to jump. For a brief, terrifying moment, they leave the sea and leap into the searing light and weightless air of our world before returning safely to their own. For me, foreign travel is like that leap. To leave everything that is comfortable and familiar and enter a world filled with perplexities, spending my days in a state of wonder, pleasant confusion and occasional alarm awakens my mind to the small details of life and reminds me of the invisible wonders that surround me every day.

This type of immersive travel is, to me, all about saying "yes." It's about opening my heart to local customs, eating and drinking as they do and respecting their traditions.

This openness has led to wonderful moments I carry with me to this day. In Kathmandu, Nepal, jet-lagged and off schedule I spent a few freezing nights huddled around a sidewalk campfire with Sherpas drinking thick yak milk tea while the Himalayas rumbled ominously around us. I had hot, sweet tea with Bedouin in the heat of the Sinai desert and sipped coca tea as an antidote to altitude sickness high in the Andes. On a horse farm outside Buenos Aires I shared bitter yerba tea with polo players while the setting sun angled its rays across the fields and fragrant dogs dozed between our boots.

These are the times when the seemingly vast distances between us collapse, and we come face to face with the basic commonalities of human existence. With a bit of preparation about the local culture and an acknowledgement of the occasional need to suspend good judgment, I found myself ready to take another leap.

Unfortunately, the list of possible countries for this type of travel is not what it once was, things being what they are. Now that I have a family, I couldn't afford to risk beheading or other such inconvenience. Luckily, I am friends with some local Thai Buddhist monks who were happy to help, and I was invited to visit their monastery in Bangkok and use it as a base for exploration during a six week trip exploring Thailand and its environs.

My last trip of this kind was two months in South America with my wife before our kids were born.  We found that keeping a travel journal was a fun way to reflect on our experiences, and although I'm traveling solo this time, I will keep the tradition alive: I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!