Adventure Travel

I’ve toyed numerous times with adding a little more adventure to my travels. But this is an impetus that has only grown in my head recently as I started looking for something that went beyond walking around city streets and ducking into suburban lanes and cafés for most of a holiday.

Having tried some white-water rafting, ice-climbing, snowmobiling and hikes as part of day trips, I think I’m hooked to some more adrenaline pumping moves that I want to explore: there’s climbing outdoors, Antarctica to visit, more rafting to do, canyoning, skiing, surfing and more diving in the Northern Hemisphere, visiting the world’s most remote islands and inland places…

The list is endless. The more I think about it, the more I’m also rethinking my own personal career trajectory and it is gets more and more difficult not to want to shift everything outdoors. There was even a crazy moment a couple of weeks ago when I wondered about the viability of becoming an Arctic or an Antarctic postal worker.

I’d be the first to admit that travel has caused new loves to be born. Travel companions have made me aware that I can’t – shouldn’t – subsist on convenience store takeout for lunches and dinners and that entire cultures, lineages and heritage could be discovered within cuisines. Because of an accidental ice-climb in Ilulissat, I’m actually going to a climbing gym for courses to be less incompetent when going up a vertical wall. My cameras have grown in megapixels and size when I discovered how much I liked the sights I saw and wanted them as high-definition photographs just as they are imprinted in my memory.

But getting weighed down by doubts after that mental high just thinking about adventure travel is brutal. Travel takes time and money – commodities which are tied together and aren’t always in abundance – and guts and stamina and an attitude that demands constant learning and constant reevaluating. The potential for injuries and falling into whatever type of danger is real, ever-present and not as easily brushed off as what glossy travel magazines make every trip out to be.

Like my bucket list, this negative sheet of paralysing doubts is just as long.

But there’s also a nagging voice in my head that overpower it all: you’ll never know if you don’t try.

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