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Is it nosiness or addiction?

Some of us love to travel. Our favourite websites are devoted to escaping, and we dream of the next trip whether it is to an airport, train station or port. For others, however, the idea of packing clothes into a bag and setting out into the unknown is right down there with a rain-soaked hike through a swamp.

I do understand why people may be turned off travel. Paul Theroux, the travel writer who has journeyed through most of the earth’s great continents, described journeys as great inconvenience interrupted by the occasional epiphany. And we’ve all experienced the break downs of flights and buses, the reservations that don’t exist and the surly locals who wish we had stayed at home. It can all be far from ideal. But it doesn’t deter those of us devoted to that next trip. In fact, the inconveniences often make us want to go further and for longer. After all, we have proven ourselves in adversity and can have pride in our perseverance. This inner grit we’ve shown comes out in the stories we tell our friends and family.

We’ve all told the tales. A broken-down bus leaves us marooned with little water or food in a rural rainforest at the height of the monsoon, and we have no idea of when we might be rescued. And then it happens, the locals lose their reserve, offer to share their supplies and bring us into their community. We become one with them. Other times, a hefty trek leaves us feeling so weak we simply want to lie down and never lift a hiking boot again. And then we go up the last few steps, find the most mystical panorama and that shot of dopamine hits our brain. Our body, far from giving out, is spurred to climb even further.

Is it that shot of dopamine that gives us an addiction to what Paul Theroux called the epiphany – that moment when misery, pain or tiredness turns to absolute joy? I’d love to know your thoughts.

But those of us who share an addiction to travel epiphanies, should not lure those with tamer habits to join our tumultuous lifestyle. I know people who would be happy to forego any travel joy. They prefer to stay home where they know they will be up at 7:28 each the morning and, if they don’t take too long in the shower, they will be dressed and on time to hear Thought for the Day on Radio 4. Even better, if they don’t tarry over breakfast, they will be in time to nod at the dog walker they see each morning. They might never exchange a word with the dog walker, but they have formed a communication with them nonetheless. For me, I would want to know that person’s name, their dog’s name, why did they choose that dog… However, for many people, that nod of recognition from a stranger is adventure enough.

So do we travel out of that addiction to dopamine or is it due to nosiness? Not just to know the details of the dog walker, but the desire that extends to know what is around the corner, over the hill and across the sea.

I’ve written before questioning why some people travel while others stay at home. Is it the dopamine hit, or does it simply come down to plain old nosiness?

To those of you who yearn to travel, I’d love your thoughts.



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