Because everybody always says that travelling to different countries makes you a better person, I always figured that was bullshit.
Having done a tiny bit of travelling in adulthood, I now believe that about 50% of that “eye opening” sensation you get from travel is a sort of optical illusion:
They have slightly different mailboxes and street signs but your brain makes that out to be A Very Big Deal.
Some of it is reverse class snobbery, too. “Ooooh, life must be nice. I was too busy working for a living…”
I also thought my indifference/hostility to travel went to my introversion, but Penelope Trunk is an extrovert.
Anyhow, I love being right. This time it only took, what, 35 years?
You can try to talk your way out of this revelation in an interview, but you will always look like you couldn’t handle getting a job so you decided to travel. Which is why people who travel always look like they are running from something. (…)
The Independent just published research that shows people who fulfill career goals before age 27 are happier throughout their adult life. That rings true to me based on the lives of the hundreds of people I’ve coached.
That was me. I certainly wouldn’t call myself “happy” for much of that time, but, well, “smug”? “Smug” is my “happy.” Also? “Vengeance.”
Travel wastes your time. If you want to learn about other cultures, sleep in a homeless shelter in Chicago for a week. I’m sure you’ll have more culture-shock there than you will in a Marriott in Prague.