This one might have gotten a bit fiery… or existential. Depends on your mood going into it. I’ve been reflecting a lot on how traveling affects people, both positively and negatively. It’s a complicated subject once past the obvious points of self-improvement, cultural exposure, etc. It’s worth questioning our reasons for choosing the things we do—sometimes we can find the beliefs we hold are simply the beliefs of others, impressed on us by years of social media and time in our home communities. Experimenting with mindfulness in this way can be daunting, but valuable in the long-run. Or we could just end up hating travel; indulge in that notion below.

The Last Time

As my riverboat trawls up the milky brown Amazon River, I stand against one of the wooden posts on the top deck. Out on the shore, dense canopies flow by giving way to low wetlands and then rapidly ascending into leafy hills before transforming back into canopy. Alongside the boat, a child, no older than 12 years, has hooked her lancha onto the side of the towering, four-floor Amazonas IV to vend fresh shrimp, açaí, and other bits and bobs necessary for three nights of river travel. On the same side, three decks above, sitting in his foldable chair, 64-year-old Idé stares out at the floresta through his milky white eyes. Having just spoken with him for the last hour about his remarkable life here in northern Brazil (stints as a prospector, father, fisherman), I now stand on the other side of the deck and leave him to his quiet meditation. It’s his 14th trip to Belém in the last year—five total days of boat travel each visit from Santarém. Each visit has been a marginally successful attempt to slow the degradation of his vision from the creeping, yet inevitable, eye disease he deals with. Five minutes ago, I asked him if he’d like to join me below deck for a game of pife. He politely declined. Instead, he told me, Idé preferred to sit and watch the emerald forest pass by for who knows which trip will be the last for his vision.

Look at any tech bro’s Instagram bio these days, and the odds are high that 1 in 100 of them will have some reference to the famous Latin phrase memento mori. Roughly meaning “remember that you must die”, it may seem a morbid quote to have directly underneath “Self-made CEO [insert cash, prayer hands, & globe emojis]”, but these guys are unfortunately on to something. At its core, memento mori is simply a reminder to bear in mind that we all will pass at some unknown time, so we best take each day seriously. A thought exercise pursued by some of the most notable Stoic philosophers, Marcus Aurelius repeats in his Meditations that “[we] could leave life right now… [so] let that determine what you do and say and think” while Seneca reminds us that “[we] may not wake up tomorrow” so be sure to give thanks for the opportunity of another day and to go seize it. The idea is less so to meditate on death as a looming cloud and more so to cherish and be grateful for the time we’re given in the present moment.

Following this train of thought, I found a fitting quote by Andrew Anabi to sum it up: “Every time you do something that is one less time you do it. One day you will do something the final time and you will rarely know when that day comes.”

As human beings, we have a hard time perceiving death as a looming reality. For most, it takes a brush with death or a startling realization of declining health to start cherishing certain people and moments in our lives. As we all hope for it (death) to be deep in the future, life can be more easily taken for granted. However, the stark reality is that we don’t know when our time will come. Which means we also don’t know when it’s our last time doing… anything. Our last time listening to our favorite song. Our last time traveling to a certain destination. Our last time and last smile with a loved one. Everything happens for the last time; the irony is that a “last time” can never be recognized as such until it has passed. In speaking with Idé about his fleeting vision, I realized the parallels his situation has with memento mori. Although he can physically sense his eyesight dwindling each passing day, Idé instead opts to be more grateful and aware of his gift to still observe the world rather than let a reality outside of his control ruin his final months of sight.

So, why have I opened this edition with what appears as five paragraphs of doom and gloom? Well, because I don’t consider it to be. Rather, remembering we must die one day is a blessing if used mindfully. Having the awareness and present mind to consider that everything we do could be its last iteration is an empowering notion. Memento mori can be a tool to turn even the most blasé and familiar moments of our lives into those we consistently cherish.

When most people quote memento mori, they tend to overlook its partner phrase. Memento mori, memento vivere: “Remember that you must die, so remember to live.” If the thought of death is still too off-putting to put on your phone’s wallpaper, then forget it. At the very least though, once in a while we must also pick our heads up, look around at what we’ve been on autopilot for, and remember to live.

P.S. Yes, similar to the “tech bros” I point a finger at above, I do have memento vivere in my Instagram bio; guilty as charged.

Traveling Right Off the Deep End

According to the website Most Traveled People, the most “traveled” person in the world currently is Harry Mitsidis of Greece. As of the publishing of this article, the Greek roamer has visited 1,362 of 1,500 total “locations” of Most Traveled People’s (MTP) official Location List. What that exactly means, I’m not entirely sure. On MTP, a “visit” is qualified as any length and scope of time in a location as long as “some form of proof of travel [exists] to prevent fraudulent claims.” Not much clearer. And a “location” appears to be an arbitrary location on the map, defined sometimes by a political border and other times just a geographical feature. Drill a bit deeper, and you can find that MTP doesn’t relegate itself to the novice-level list of nations though. There are rankings for visiting each region within a country. There are also points for remote islands like the perilous Bouvet Island or the equally infamous Andaman Islands (North Sentinel Island’s archipelago). A point is even up for grabs at Rockall, given the traveler can brush their fingers on the piece of granite anchored in the middle of the choppy North Atlantic.

You may be wondering the same things as me based on this: Aside from its shockingly original name, who the hell gave MTP the global authority to define world “locations”? Are there really people that follow this list to the ends of the Earth? What’s in it for them? Also, who cares?

Allow me to answer those, rapid-fire: No one, plenty, probably some sort of insecure bragging right, and frankly very few folks.

In Dave Seminara’s book Mad Travelers, the fog is lifted from around this niche international society as Seminara picks apart the world of “country-counters” through the story of an erratic, yet cunning, 22-year-old conman. Chronicling the lengths these travelers go just to snap a picture at a local airport or touch some sandstone, it can be simple to sneer at the idea of these middle-aged men half-drowning in the Atlantic as they race for the measly reward of ticking a box on a website that hasn’t had a UX facelift since 2017. For what, a title? In fact, not even Mr. Mitsidis can properly claim the crown of “Most Traveled Person” because [*plot-twist*] there are two more different lists made by two other groups (NomadMania and Travelers’ Century Club) with their own unique “locations”. Sorry, Harry.

Comical as it may seem, these groups are perfect case studies to answer a much more interesting question: Why do we travel in the first place?

Naturally, evidenced by the MTPs of the world, some of us travel for the very sake of crossing it off a list. That is completely cool by the way; no one should tell you what your motivations for going to Tokyo or Paris are. I grew up dreaming of a list of places I wanted to visit, pinned them all on a map, and still referenced them when confronting the ever-present question of “Where next?” It’s just helpful to remember that we’re not banned from a visited destination by the act of crossing it off.

There are plenty of other reasons we hit the road these days though. Maybe it’s specifically to tell others about. Maybe it’s because of generational family ties. Maybe it’s to snap that iconic Instagram pic in Patagonia. Some travel for better stories. Others for better friends. Some travel to run away from a situation or responsibilities back home while others may feel like they’re running towards a goal. Whether a childhood love for horses leads you to the Mongolian plains or an addiction to K-Pop lands you in Seoul, it’s important to note our motivations for moving and how intentional travel can help actualize those end goals.

Contrary to my wandering demeanor, I don’t consider myself one for country-counting. Most of my travel these days has little to do with hopping as many customs checks as possible in a week, and I don’t find that whether I’ve been somewhere or not has much bearing. Not to mention, most countries have their own internal diversity rendering each nation worthy of added exploration without ever leaving its confines. After all, visiting the small island nation of Malta for a week can’t qualify the same as a one-week visit to a couple of cities in Argentina.

Between a decision to stay longer in a place I’m enjoying or to forgo it in favor of another stamp, I prefer the extended stay. After enough thought on why I travel, I’ve concluded that stepping foot somewhere for the sake of a check mark hardly leaves the door open to the personal development, life lessons, and curiosity I look to garner outside of my home culture. Even revisiting known destinations has its merits as new experiences reshape our memories of a place. At the same time though, I can’t help but enjoy the sight of my phone’s map of places I’ve been, as if I’m a child filling out a color-by-number; visuals and gamification of these sorts of things irresistibly combine with our competitive spirits. That being said, if I’ve ever voluntarily offered up information on the number of borders I’ve crossed in conversation, then I probably need to be reminded (and humbled) of how many points behind Harry Mitsidis I am in the race.

Bonus: Travel Haters Exist

I hate to give these folks any sort of platform, but I did stumble across a camp of “Travel Haters” in my studies via Mad Travelers and a couple of Google searches. There’s a good chance these are satire or just meant for clicks. All the same, I rest easy knowing that I needn’t concern myself with the misgivings of IndianapolisMoms.com:

• Vacation Haters Club

• The Case Against Travel

• Travel is Terrible for Your Career

• The Middle of Somewhere: Why I Hate to Travel

Either way, they’re worth a scan if you’re in the mood to ruffle your own feathers. And, if you identify as a travel hater while reading this… I’m amazed you’ve stuck with me through potentially 12 volumes. Thanks anyways.

If you enjoyed this edition, be sure to share it with someone. My goal is to have this newsletter reach those interested in traveling unconventionally and long-term, without requiring much cash. Or, at the very least, be an entertaining narrative of times on the road in South America. Either works for me.

Until next time,