Why do people travel? Are we pushed or pulled?

Poor environment, bad weather or dismal economic opportunities can all lead someone to pack their bags and push off to a new life. When this happens, we leave with optimism for change, opportunity, sunshine, the good things of life.

Sometimes, we believe that leaving home will somehow change us. This is not uncommon after a loss such as death, divorce or redundancy. In this situation, we often travel alone. There are no compromises to be made when you travel solo. This type of travel is about escaping, changing surroundings and our daily schedules and gaining freedom from whatever we feel chains us.

However, we can be pulled towards the new, because that is where we want to be. Escaping in the name of adventure. Heading out to an airport, train station or long-range bus terminal can give some of us a thrill. Escaping to where no one knows your name. Oftentimes, we are warned against this type of journey. However, as Paul Coelho points out: “If you think adventure is dangerous try routine, it is lethal.”

Of course, one of the most common reasons people travel is to visit family and friends. We are pulled away from home by the need to see loved ones.

But there is a third reason some of us travel. It is simply because it’s there – that bend around the mountainside, that river that can be forded, the sea or ocean to be crossed. We are stirred by curiosity. What are the people who live there like? Are they friendly? Beautiful? The scenery?

As a child I had these thoughts about Poland. I collected stamps, and I would stare into those stamp images trying to discern some knowledge about that nation. They were my entry point to travel. Poland had bold, colourful stamps, often depicting flowers and art, and I assumed that 1960s Poland must be a land devoted to colour. British stamps always seemed quite pitifully plain by comparison. I held Poland on my shortlist of places to visit based simply on its stamps. A strange pull for travel.

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We're all foreigners somewhere

Most of us don’t think of ourselves as foreigners, even when we’re overseas. We believe that we are one with the wider group. After all, foreigners are something else, they are the people who don’t belong. I remember the first time I realised I was be an outsider. My British Caledonian flight to Zambia had landed in Lusaka and, when I looked out onto the tarmac, none of the ground staff looked like me. It gave me a thrill but also a sense of vulnerability. These people were not my people and I wondered if I would be safe among them. That thought prompted another – this is how visitors to my own country must feel. They are outnumbered, and their dress, skin colour, hair, any number of things, mark them out and perhaps leave them open to hostility. I have to say that I met no hostility in Zambia. Instead, my social skills grew as I learned to reach out to the people I lived among. Perhaps I did it to fit in, to ensure that I was less of a foreigner. I didn’t anticipate feeling ...

Travel solo - common scams Street sellers - never let anyone give you a bracelet, heather, lavender, etc. or drape anything over your shoulder. You will be charged for the 'gift'. Simply refuse to take it or put it straight back into their hands and keep walking. Do not stop. A more extreme example is when someone thrusts a baby in your arms and they riffle through your pockets. Yell for help, loudly. Fake police - if you are asked in the street for your passport, do not hand over any documents. If they say they are the police then tell them your passport is in the hotel safe. If they say you have done something wrong, do not pay a fine in the street. Ask for identification and tell them you will call the police to check their identification. Do not offer to accompany them anywhere, stay in a public spot and find a real police officer. An accidental distraction - if you feel something hit your shoulder or back and a kind stranger tells you it's bird poo or sauce, do not ac...

If no one ever left home Think of a world where no one ever travelled. One where we knew all our neighbours, our landscapes, and we shared the same philosophy on life. In this world we would know nothing of what lay over a hillside, behind a mountain or across the sea. Some people in this world, they are perfectly happy here. Personally, I feel smothered even writing that description. Travel is as much about considering new ideas as it is about taking a photo or buying a t-shirt. My first trip overseas was magical although perhaps not in some people's eyes. I travelled from Scotland to Greece by bus - four days of looking out of the window onto a foreign world, my very own vista. It was dawn when we reached the Greek border, the hillsides were golden and, as I looked around, I would not have been surprised to see a shepherd and his nymphs frolicking downhill toward me. No matter the long bus journey, I had arrived into a magical land. The children of The Lion, the Witch and ...

Travel now not tomorrow

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