In 2004, I was just a regular guy trying to convince a friend to go on a trip to the Galápagos Islands. He wasn’t too keen on the idea and suggested Thailand instead. I didn’t mind where we went, as long as it was somewhere warm. So, in January 2005, we embarked on a two-week adventure to a part of the world we’d never seen before.
If you’d told me then that I’d come back from that trip, quit my job, and become a world traveler, I would’ve laughed. I was wrapping up my MBA and hunting for a job in the renewable energy sector. Sure, traveling was fun, but me, a globetrotter? No way. But here I am, a decade later, living that exact life.
Looking back, I remember a lot from that first trip. The tuk-tuk driver who scammed us, tasting street food for the first time, staying in a budget guesthouse. I remember the missing person posters and donation jars lining Khao San Road in Bangkok, a grim reminder of the Boxing Day tsunami that had struck just two weeks before we arrived. I remember my friend falling ill, the cheesy touristy nature hike we did outside Chiang Mai, and the shock of seeing modern technology in a "traditional" village.
One conversation with five backpackers in Chiang Mai changed everything. It led me to tell my friend, "I’m going to quit my job to travel the world." I remember buying Lonely Planet’s Southeast Asia on a Shoestring in Ko Samui’s English-language bookstore right after that, studying it like a sacred text, and planning a trip that was still just a vague idea.
Memory can be a funny thing. It tends to gloss over certain details, painting a rosier picture of the past. I remember the sequence of events, the smells, the emotions, but the why of it all eludes me.
Today, I’d say I took that trip because I was restless and yearned to travel. Those backpackers represented fun, freedom, and adventure. They were confident, everything I wasn’t feeling in my mundane cubicle job. That’s the story I’ve settled on, but honestly, I don’t know for sure. Most of my decisions, good or bad, are impulsive. There might be more to the story, feelings and desires that no longer fit the narrative and have been forgotten.
All I know is that something inside me snapped. There was no going back to my old life. I had travel.
Ten years later, the why doesn’t matter to me anymore. The narrative time has settled on may be 95% correct, but that’s okay. I thought quitting my job would be temporary. But the more I traveled, the less likely it was that I’d return to my old life.
Taking the leap to quit your job and travel the world isn’t easy. There are so many unknowns. I had no idea how I was going to afford my trip, if I’d be able to do it, or what to expect. But I’ve never regretted my decision. The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that you never regret doing what makes you happy. Sometimes, your gut instinct is right.
Sure, I’ve made mistakes along the way. Nothing ever works out perfectly. But I regret nothing. Whenever I’m faced with a new opportunity, I remember my decision to travel and realize that there’s nothing to lose by trying. If you fail, you’re back where you started, but at least you tried.
So, travel more. Start a garden. Quit your job to become an actor. Take those Spanish lessons you’ve always wanted to. Or don’t. Follow your gut. Do what makes you happy. Don’t worry about what others say. Do what you want. We only have a finite time on Earth. Don’t waste it.
