There are moments in life when you realise everything needs to change. Some people have this epiphany while staring out at a sunset, others after a near-death experience. For me? It happened somewhere between dodging aggressive tuk-tuks in Southeast Asia and sharing tea with a stranger who didn’t speak a word of English but somehow understood me better than most people I’d known my entire life. The benefits of travel are far more than just ticking off bucket-list destinations or collecting airport stamps—travel has the power to completely reshape who you are. And in my case, it did exactly that.
Once upon a time, I was on the path society had laid out for me: the corporate job, the steady paycheck, the white picket fence that was supposed to be the dream but, in reality, felt more like a trap. But childhood trauma had already taught me that life wasn’t predictable, that security was a myth, and that the best way to reclaim control was to throw the rulebook out the window. So that’s what I did. I got rid of almost everything I owned, bought a one-way ticket, and set off in search of something bigger than a pension plan and a 30-year mortgage.
What I found was resilience. Courage. A version of myself I actually liked. I learned to trust strangers, navigate chaos, and say yes to opportunities that terrified me. I discovered that the benefits of travel are not just about adventure, but about realising you are capable of so much more than you ever thought possible. And the best part? You don’t have to be born brave to do it—you just have to start.
So, if you’re wondering whether travel can really change your life, let me save you some time: yes, it can. And it will. But not in the way you expect. Now, let’s get into the nitty-gritty of why you should probably ditch the comfort zone and get out there—because the benefits of travel are far too good to ignore.
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If there’s one thing travel does better than anything else, it’s making you question everything you thought you knew. And I mean everything. Your beliefs, your assumptions, your media-fed idea of what the world is like—it all crumbles the moment you step off a plane and realise that life outside your bubble is far more complex, interconnected, and, quite frankly, nothing like what you were told.
Let’s start with the big one: the benefits of travel are realising that our own media is, for lack of a better term, a well-oiled propaganda machine. Every country has its narratives, its heroes and villains, and its cherry-picked headlines designed to keep us comfortable in our own worldview. But when you actually visit these so-called “dangerous” or “backward” places, you find out they’re filled with actual humans—ones who are kind, funny, generous, and, more often than not, just trying to live their lives. You realise that the world isn’t neatly divided into good and bad, right and wrong. Instead, there’s a whole lot of grey.
Take any global issue—politics, history, cultural traditions, even food—and you’ll learn that nothing is as simple as the black-and-white version you were taught. The “bad guys” in one country are the heroes in another. The “correct” way to do something is just one of a million possibilities. And suddenly, you start to understand why no two people see the world exactly the same way.
The benefits of travel are learning to leave judgment at the front door. You stop seeing differences as weird, wrong, or something to be “fixed” and instead start appreciating them for what they are—unique, fascinating, and deeply personal. You might not agree with every custom or mindset you encounter, but you’ll at least understand why they exist.
And the best part? You stop taking yourself so seriously. You realise that your way isn’t the only way, that your culture isn’t the blueprint for humanity, and that maybe—just maybe—the world makes a little more sense when you stop trying to label everything as right or wrong.
In the end, the benefits of travel are not just about seeing new places but about seeing the world with fresh eyes. Once you step outside your comfort zone, you can never go back to living in a bubble. And honestly? You won’t want to.
One person’s delicacy is another person’s “What in the actual hell is that?”
I once asked my Instagram followers about the weirdest thing they had ever eaten while travelling. The responses were as wild as you’d expect—tarantulas, fermented eggs, crickets, scorpions. But the most unexpected answer? Pizza. And no, not because someone had the audacity to put pineapple on it. It was because the person answering was Maasai, and in Maasai culture, pizza isn’t a thing. To him, a bubbling cheese-covered circle of dough was as bizarre as deep-fried spiders are to the rest of us. And that, my friends, is the beauty of food—it’s all relative.
The benefits of travel are never more obvious than when you sit down for a meal in a country where the flavours, textures, and ingredients are entirely different from what you’re used to. Because let’s be real—your go-to Chinese takeaway back home? That’s not Chinese food. That Thai curry you love? The real version is about ten times spicier, served with a side of fresh herbs, and eaten while sitting on a plastic stool so small it makes you question your life choices.
There’s nothing quite like:
• Watching fresh chapati being made in a roadside stall in Kenya, the dough slapped onto a hot griddle with practised ease.
• Sitting on a wobbly stool in Vietnam, inhaling a bowl of pho so rich and fragrant it ruins every future attempt at eating it anywhere else.
• Sipping coffee in a Maasai village where the milk has just been freshly collected from the cow standing right next to you.
Food isn’t just about eating—it’s about understanding a culture. It’s about learning the stories behind the dishes, the traditions that surround them, and the way food brings people together, no matter where in the world you are. The benefits of travel are realising that the best meals often come from the humblest places—a street vendor in Mexico rolling out fresh tortillas, a tiny noodle shop in Japan with no English menu, a grandmother in Egypt who insists you eat just one more piece of her homemade koshary.
And if you really want to experience the soul of a destination, there’s one rule you should always follow: join a food tour the moment you land. Let a local guide you through the chaos of a street market, introduce you to dishes you would’ve been too afraid to order, and teach you why food is the fastest way to understand a new culture.
So, go ahead—eat the mystery meat, say yes to the dish you can’t pronounce, and embrace the flavours that challenge your taste buds. Because the benefits of travel are never more delicious than when you’re breaking bread with locals, swapping stories, and discovering that the best meals often come with zero Michelin stars but a whole lot of heart.
If you think you’re a patient person, travel will prove you wrong. And if you don’t think you’re patient, well—buckle up, because you’re about to learn.
The benefits of travel are often wrapped up in picture-perfect Instagram moments, but behind every stunning sunset and awe-inspiring adventure is at least one logistical nightmare that tests your limits. Take, for example, that time in Sierra Leone when we ran out of fuel.
Now, running out of fuel is one thing. Running out of fuel during a nationwide fuel strike is an entirely different level of chaos. We found ourselves crammed into a fuel station alongside 100 motorbikes, all waiting for the pumps to be turned back on. Six hours of waiting. Six. Whole. Hours. And if you saw the photos, you’d think it was an angry mob ready to riot. The reality? Singing, dancing, laughter, and a bizarre sense of camaraderie between stranded locals, taxi drivers, and bikers who were all in the same ridiculous situation.
Of course, the real kicker was discovering that the fuel station had fuel all along. They were just waiting for a price increase before turning the pumps back on.
If nothing else, the benefits of travel are an unintentional crash course in problem-solving. You quickly learn that plans mean absolutely nothing in certain parts of the world. Buses will break down, flights will be cancelled, timetables are mere suggestions, and sometimes, the only way forward is to embrace the madness.
And let’s be honest; if you can survive six hours in a fuel strike, negotiate a border crossing in a language you don’t understand, or figure out a bus system that appears to follow no logical pattern whatsoever, you can survive anything.
At the end of the day, the benefits of travel are not just about seeing the world—it’s about proving to yourself that you can handle it. That you can adapt, problem-solve, and keep your cool in situations that would send your past self into a full-blown meltdown.
And if you can get through it all with a smile (or at least without throwing a tantrum), congratulations—you’ve just levelled up in life.
One of the greatest—and most humbling—benefits of travel is realising just how useless your high school language classes actually were. You arrive in a new country, confident in your ability to at least try to speak the language, only to discover that the one phrase you memorised in perfect Spanish doesn’t apply because they speak Catalan. Or that Mandarin tones are not, in fact, just a fun suggestion but the difference between ordering a plate of dumplings or accidentally insulting someone’s grandmother.
But here’s the thing: even when words fail, you still learn how to communicate. The benefits of travel are not just about learning new languages (though you will pick up a few crucial survival phrases—mostly ones related to food and toilets) but also about discovering that communication is so much bigger than words.
You learn to read non-verbal cues—the way someone raises an eyebrow when you’ve just said something completely ridiculous, the universal look of exasperation from a shopkeeper when you’re fumbling to count change, the slight nod that means yes, I understand in one country but no, absolutely not in another.
You master the art of charades, turning every interaction into an elaborate guessing game. Need to find a bathroom? Time to mime squatting. Want to know if a dish is spicy? Just pretend to breathe fire. Trying to negotiate a price? Your eyebrows, hand gestures, and dramatic expressions will do all the work.
And then there’s the magic of smiling—the single most powerful communication tool in the world. When words fail, a genuine smile can open doors, smooth over awkward interactions, and instantly make you seem less like a clueless foreigner and more like a well-intentioned idiot (which, let’s be honest, you probably are at that moment).
But the benefits of travel are also about the joy of actually learning a language. Not in the rigid, textbook way, but in the way that only happens when you’re fully immersed—when you pick up slang from a taxi driver, learn how to toast properly at a local bar, or suddenly realise you’ve absorbed enough to understand a street vendor’s joke (and even better, to joke back).
And the best part? You become fearless in your attempts. You stop caring about sounding silly, about getting the grammar wrong, about mixing up words in spectacularly embarrassing ways. Because the benefits of travel are realising that the effort is what matters. People appreciate it when you try, and the more you do, the more confident you become.
So whether you end up fluent in a new language or just exceptionally skilled at charades, one thing is certain: when you travel, you learn to communicate in ways you never thought possible. And that skill? That stays with you long after the trip is over.
Travel taught me, above all, to laugh at myself. And situations like this one helped along the way! While in Brazil, I fell in love with Pao de Quixo, a warm cheesy bread roll that I ordered every deal with my meal for 21 days straight. It wasn’t until my final day that someone corrected me. The way I was pronouncing pao, without the nasal sound, meant I was actually asking for cheesy penis!
The news would have you believe that the world is a terrifying place, filled with danger lurking around every corner. But here’s something they don’t tell you: the benefits of travel are discovering that, for every shady character or frustrating situation, there are ten kind-hearted strangers ready to help you when you need it most.
I’ve lost count of the number of times a complete stranger has gone out of their way to take care of me—offering food, shelter, safety, and sometimes even just a much-needed laugh at the exact moment I needed it.
Like Hassan, the fisherman in Tanzania who took me out on Lake Manyara in his tiny wooden boat. We didn’t share a common language, but that didn’t stop us from belting out “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands” in the middle of the lake, laughing so hard we nearly capsized. It was ridiculous. It was perfect. And it was a reminder that joy needs no translation.
Or Rami in Egypt, who quite literally came to my rescue after I had a horrible encounter with a sleazy taxi driver. Without hesitation, he made sure I was safe, gave me a place to stay, and welcomed me into his family home—because that’s just what decent people do.
Then, there was the so-called “crazy” Airbnb host in Denver. On paper, he sounded eccentric. In reality, he was one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met—housing and feeding people in need, despite the fact that he himself barely had enough money to get by. He had next to nothing, but what little he had, he shared.
And it doesn’t stop there. I’ve been taken in by families who insisted I eat with them, given a bed by strangers who simply wanted to help, and handed food by people who had far less than I did. The benefits of travel are realising that, despite cultural differences, language barriers, and the fact that we come from completely different walks of life, kindness is universal.
Sure, I’ve met my fair share of difficult people on the road. But the overwhelming takeaway? The world isn’t as scary as we’re led to believe. Most people—regardless of where they’re from—are good, kind, and willing to help someone in need.
And that, more than anything, makes the world feel a whole lot smaller, a whole lot friendlier, and a whole lot more connected than we ever imagined.
We all like to think we’re adventurous, but let’s be honest—most of us have a comfort zone the size of a well-worn hoodie. We like what’s familiar, predictable, and not likely to result in public embarrassment. But the benefits of travel are that it doesn’t give you much of a choice. Sooner or later, you’ll find yourself in a situation that makes you question how you got there and why you agreed to it in the first place.
One minute, I was minding my own business, and the next, I was a guest at a celebration I knew absolutely nothing about. Before I knew it, I was being pulled into the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by 200 people eagerly watching the mzungu (foreigner) attempt to dance. There was just one problem: I have zero rhythm. I mean, truly, none. Picture an octopus trying to tap dance. That’s me. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. I flailed my limbs, the crowd cheered, and somewhere between the awkwardness and the laughter, I realised that saying yes to things—no matter how uncomfortable—is always worth it.
Yep, you read that right. What started as a simple ride turned into a full-fledged adventure when I found out my driver had never had the chance to visit some of Rwanda’s most iconic sights. So, naturally, we went together. For the next few days, I got to see the country through his eyes—his excitement, his awe, his joy at finally ticking off bucket-list experiences he never thought he’d get to do. It was a reminder that the benefits of travel are not just about your experiences, but about sharing moments that make an impact on others, too.
And that’s the thing—stepping out of your comfort zone doesn’t always mean skydiving or trekking through the jungle. Sometimes, it’s about saying yes to the unexpected. Yes to the dance. Yes to the adventure. Yes to trusting that, even if it feels awkward, weird, or a little terrifying at first, it’ll probably be a story worth telling later.
Because in the end, the benefits of travel are not found in the things that go exactly as planned. They’re found in the wild, unexpected, beautifully uncomfortable moments that remind you just how much fun life can be—when you’re willing to let go.
There’s nothing like leaving home for a while to make you realise just how much you took for granted. The first shower back? Pure luxury. Your own bed? A cloud of bliss. The ability to walk into a shop and actually understand what you’re buying? A small but underrated miracle. The benefits of travel are in these little moments—coming home and feeling an almost embarrassing level of gratitude for things you never gave a second thought to before.
But here’s the twist—travel doesn’t just make you appreciate home more. It also makes you question it.
Do I really need a ten-minute power shower after surviving two weeks on bucket showers in the middle of nowhere? Is it actually necessary to own 47 different kitchen gadgets when I’ve just watched a street vendor cook an entire feast using nothing but a single pot and an open flame? And why—why—do we live in a world where we have entire aisles dedicated to flavoured water, but in some places, getting clean drinking water is still a struggle?
The benefits of travel are realising that the way you’ve always done things isn’t necessarily the best way. That convenience can sometimes be excessive. That what we see as “normal” is often just one version of reality.
It’s a strange feeling, coming home and noticing things you were once blind to. The wastefulness. The excess. The strange rules we follow without question. But at the same time, you also realise the things that do make home special—the efficiency, the safety, the little comforts that you once dismissed as “just the way things are.”
And so, you find yourself in a weird limbo. Appreciating home, but also knowing that home is just a construct—one version of life among many. And once you’ve seen different ways of living, you can never unsee them.
That’s one of the greatest paradoxes of travel—you return with a newfound love for home, but also with an insatiable urge to leave again. Because as much as you cherish home, the benefits of travel are knowing that there’s an entire world out there—one that will always call you back, again and again.
There was a time when a passive-aggressive email from a coworker could ruin my entire day. When an unexpected bill felt like the end of the world. When the sheer injustice of someone taking my food from the office fridge had me ready to start a full-blown workplace investigation, but then I travelled. And suddenly, I realised that the benefits of travel are understanding just how insignificant most of our daily stress really is.
Because here’s the thing—once you’ve spent hours stranded at a remote bus station, watching a chicken casually stroll across your lap while a driver assures you that the bus “will leave soon” (spoiler: it will not), you stop sweating the small stuff. Once you’ve had to mime your way through an emergency in a country where no one speaks your language, the panic of a delayed email response starts to seem… laughable. And once you’ve witnessed real struggles—people surviving on so much less than you, yet somehow still finding reasons to smile, laugh, and invite you into their homes—you begin to question why you ever let Susan from accounting’s snarky comments get under your skin.
The benefits of travel are learning that stress is often self-imposed. That so much of what we lose sleep over—workplace gossip, the rude barista, the WiFi cutting out for an hour—is just noise. Because when you strip it all back, life isn’t about inbox zero or perfectly curated to-do lists. It’s about the experiences, the connections, the moments that actually matter.
So the next time you feel your blood pressure rising over a coworker cc’ing your boss unnecessarily or someone cutting in line at the coffee shop, just pause. Think back to that time you were lost in the middle of nowhere with no phone signal, running on two hours of sleep and a questionable street-food meal, and somehow, it all worked out. Because if you could survive that, you can survive anything—including Karen’s passive-aggressive punctuation.
Perspective. The benefits of travel are all about gaining it. And once you do, you’ll never look at stress the same way again.
If you had told me years ago that I would one day willingly get rid of almost everything I owned, I would have laughed in your face. My things were important. My books, my clothes, my furniture, my random collection of travel souvenirs—each item held some sentimental value, or so I thought. But then I made the decision to sell 90% of my possessions, and let me tell you—stuff doesn’t matter nearly as much as we think it does.
At the time, getting rid of everything was painful. There were things I was heartbroken to part with. Some items I clung to until the very last second, convincing myself that I needed them. And yet, once they were gone… I never thought about them again. Not once.
Because here’s the truth: the benefits of travel are understanding that you don’t actually need most of the things you own. When you strip life down to what truly matters—experiences, people, adventure, family—you realise that objects are just that… objects. The expensive shoes, the designer bags, the shelves full of things we buy to make our homes look nice? They don’t add any real value to our lives. And once you’ve lived out of a backpack for months, you start to wonder why you ever thought they did.
Of course, that’s not to say you should get rid of everything and go full minimalist monk (unless you want to, in which case, respect). But the benefits of travel are learning the difference between what you think you need and what actually makes you happy. And spoiler alert—happiness rarely comes from a well-decorated living room.
So if you’re hesitating about letting go of things, take it from me—you won’t miss them. You won’t even remember most of them. Because in the end, the memories you make, the people you meet, and the places you see? Those are the only things that truly stay with you. And, unlike possessions, they don’t collect dust.
One of the most unexpected benefits of travel is the sheer number of stories you accumulate along the way. Suddenly, you have dinner party material for years. You’ve been stranded in the middle of nowhere, taken part in bizarre local traditions, danced at weddings you weren’t invited to, and somehow survived a night on a questionable sleeper train with a goat as your bunkmate.
And let’s be honest—your stories are great. They’re filled with adventure, humour, and just the right amount of near-death experiences to keep things interesting. But here’s the danger: you have to be very, very careful not to become “that” person.
You know the one. The person who hijacks every conversation with:
• “That reminds me of this one time in Nepal…”
• “Oh, I had the best coffee in Colombia, let me tell you about it…”
• “Yeah, I totally understand, when I was in Tanzania…”
At first, people will listen politely. Maybe they’ll even be interested. But after the fifth time you’ve linked a mundane topic back to your adventures, you might notice some glazed-over eyes and the subtle, desperate shifting of conversation.
Because here’s the thing: while the benefits of travel are endless for you, not everyone wants to hear about them all the time. Some people just want to talk about normal things—like their neighbour’s new fence, the drama in their office, or the (ghastly—I mean beautiful!) drawing their child made today. And that’s okay.
The key is balance. Read the room. Slip in a travel story when it’s actually relevant, not just because you’re dying to tell someone about the time you accidentally ate a mystery meat kebab in Morocco. And, most importantly, remember to ask about their lives, too.
Because the benefits of travel are not just about the stories you collect, but about learning when (and when not) to share them. And trust me—sometimes, nodding along enthusiastically about someone’s kitchen renovation is a small price to pay for keeping your dinner party invitations intact.
Absolutely. Unequivocally. Without a doubt.
The benefits of travel are not just about seeing new places or taking envy-inducing Instagram photos (though, let’s be honest, that’s a nice bonus). It’s about growth, perspective, and realising that the world is far bigger—and far more connected—than you ever imagined.
It teaches you resilience when things go wrong, patience when plans fall apart, and adaptability when you find yourself in a wedding dance-off despite having the coordination of a baby giraffe. It introduces you to strangers who become friends, cultures that challenge everything you thought you knew, and moments that remind you of what really matters in life.
You learn that most problems aren’t worth stressing over, that stuff is just stuff, and that the best stories come from saying yes—even when you have no idea what you’re saying yes to. You return home with a newfound appreciation for what you have, but also with a gnawing itch to leave again, because the world still has so much left to show you.
So, if you’re wondering whether travel can change your life, the answer is simple: yes, it can. And it will, but not in the way you expect.
It won’t hand you all the answers, but it will make you ask better questions. It won’t make your life easier, but it will make it richer. It won’t erase your fears, but it will make you brave enough to face them.
And once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never quite be the same.
So go. Pack the bag. Book the ticket. Say yes because the benefits of travel are far too good to miss.
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