I was listening to a podcast recently about why everyone in their 20s should solo travel. I was ready to nod along; confidence, independence, perspective, all the things we romanticise about packing a bag and figuring life out on the road.

And then… it took a turn.

Not into empowerment. But into entitlement.

The story that didn’t sit right

The story that didn’t sit right was about a traveller at the end of her journey, low on money, facing a 15-hour layover in Taiwan. She said she had “no money.” Except… she had $50 USD. Not ideal, but not nothing either.

Now, I’ve travelled on fumes before… proper fumes. I once did 21 days across Spain with €500, covering fuel, food, and accommodation. So I’m not judging the situation itself.

I’m questioning the response.

Because instead of figuring it out (checking transport costs, working out what she could afford, deciding where to prioritise) none of that seemed to happen. There was no attempt to problem-solve within her means, no curiosity about alternatives, no sense of responsibility over the situation.

Instead, she walked into a wedding. Uninvited. And helped herself to the food.

And the internet clapped.

“Good for her.”
“Survival skills.”
“So resourceful.”

Was it, though?

Because there’s a difference between solving a problem and avoiding responsibility, and I think we’re starting to blur that line in a way that doesn’t sit comfortably with me.

What real travel growth looks like

Travel is empowering, but not because things magically fall into place. It’s empowering because you make them work. Because you sit with the discomfort of not knowing, and then you figure it out anyway.

Real empowerment in that situation would have looked like pulling out Google and checking the cost of a taxi versus public transport. It would have meant deciding, honestly, whether there was enough money for both food and transport, or whether one had to give. It might have meant going to the hotel and saying, “I’m really sorry, I’ve run out of money, do you have something small I could eat?”

That’s not weakness.
That’s courage.

And more importantly, it respects the people around you.

The uncomfortable truth about “budget travel”

Somewhere along the line, a dangerous idea has crept into travel culture: that being a traveller somehow gives you permission to take more than you give. Free food, free experiences, bending rules, all justified because “it’s part of the journey.”

It isn’t.

That’s entitlement dressed up as adventure.

The difference is actually quite simple when you strip it back. Resourceful travellers work within their limits, respect local people, and take responsibility for the situations they find themselves in. Entitled travellers expect the world to accommodate them, blur ethical lines when it suits them, and then reframe it as part of the experience.

And here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: travel doesn’t automatically make you a better person.

It amplifies who you already are.

So should people solo travel in their 20s?

So yes, I do think people should solo travel in their 20s. Absolutely. But not because it looks good on Instagram, or because it’s some guaranteed path to self-discovery, or because “everything will just work out.”

Do it because you’ll be uncomfortable. Because you’ll have to think. Because you’ll be forced to make decisions that actually matter.

And sometimes, those decisions will come when you’ve got $50 left and a long way to go.

What you do next? That’s the real story.

And for the record, if you ever find yourself genuinely stuck and hungry, ask. Most people will feed you, not because you took it, but because you respected them enough to ask.