Zebras. Photo by Hayden Carlyon.

As a couple that has been traveling together for over 10 years, we have certainly mastered the art of negotiation. We can’t both love the same things all of the time in life.  But if you take a chance and actually try something that your partner wants to do - even if you don’t want to - you may discover that you like it.

Chances are, you fell in love with each other because you admire your spouse’s qualities.  Compatible couples tend to compliment each other’s personalities and bring out the best in one another. The same is true for activities: If your partner likes something and you are willing to give it a try, it will most likely bring out a love for a new hobby or adventure that you didn’t even know was inside of you.

You have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone for each other to truly enjoy traveling for long periods of time together.

When we first started traveling, I didn’t want to spend all of my time trekking through the jungle. Dave, on the other hand, didn’t want to spend all of his time shopping at the local market. But through our travels, we learned to plan and discuss what each person wants to do, and then we compromise: “I will do this if you will do that.”  In other words, we learned the art of negotiation.

Now, after several years of being on the road together, we both love it all.  I can’t wait to climb my next mountain, and Dave loves making a perfect deal while bartering in the markets.

Have an Open Mind

The key is to have an open mind.  It won’t work if you automatically shoot down each other’s ideas.  That will only put a strain on the relationship and you may end up never traveling together again.  You have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone for each other to truly enjoy traveling for long periods of time together.

But as long as each of you is willing to give and take, traveling as a couple can be the most fulfilling experience of your life. 

When we were in Bali, Dave really wanted to climb Gunung Batur, an active volcano. For some reason, I was terribly afraid of the unpredictability of being on a mountain that could explode, and didn’t want to go.  He said that if at any point I was uncomfortable, we would stop, turn around and go back together - but that I should at least give it a try.  I ended up loving it and would have really missed out if I didn’t go. 

Communication is Critical

Communication and understanding is important however.  Dave could have said: “Fine I will go without you”. And I could easily have stayed in town.  But by talking it out and keeping our goal of experiencing life as a couple, we both ended up having an incredible time that strengthened our relationship.

After our climb up the volcano, we went to the spa together the next day and had a massage and hot floral bath.  I negotiated with Dave that if I did something that he really wanted to do, then he should do something that I really like. Even if it was something completely out of character.  He ended up loving the pampering and he felt great afterwards.

That is the great thing is about traveling with the opposite sex.  We are made up completely different from one another.  To travel with someone that has your exact interests would be boring.  You wouldn’t be inspired to try anything new.

By keeping our minds open to each other’s suggestions, we end up exploring things that we never would have tried in the first place. And we end up liking things that we never thought possible.

Travel can profoundly change a person, and to have the chance to change and grow with your spouse, can only strengthen the relationship and create an unshakable bond that will last forever. 

Travelling alone has its advantages, of course. If you’re looking for maximum freedom to go where you desire, when you desire and in whatever way you desire, solo travel might be the right thing for you. But for many people, having someone along for the ride is indispensable.

Over the next few weeks, we’ll look a little at the How of travelling with someone: How to not kill your travel partner, How to negotiate with each other, etc. But today, we’re focusing on the Why. Check out why these travellers think travel is better when you have someone to share it with.

Bessie Crum from On Our Own Path

The “Man Forcefield” is a blessing for the solo female traveler.

The times I’d head out walking alone in the streets of San Salvador or Buenos Aires, I was greeted with whistles and cries of “mamacita, you’re the blood pumping through my veins.”  As I pondered the oddness of this compliment, I could laugh to myself about it, but of course there’s a limit to hearing this local form of flattery.

The journey is better when you have someone to share it with, because you get to be yourself and share yourself.

Walking with my husband however, I never got this sort of attention. He was like my forcefield from all male attention: no one seemed to notice me.  Why?  A guy (generally) won’t mess with another guy’s lady.  I remember back to earlier trips as a solo female traveler and was grateful that I usually had my husband by my side deflecting the male gaze.

Ant Stone from Trail of Ants

She’s my pillow. She’s my photographer. She’s my driver. She’s a neutral. She’s an excuse. She’s a reason. She’s my guidebook. She’s my security guard. She’s my bank. She’s my cook. She’s my alarm clock. She’s my view point. She’s my medicine. She’s my buckle. She’s my stranger. She’s my friend. She’s my watch. She’s my translator. She’s my pen. She’s my temple. She’s my dawn. She’s my vice. She’s my reassurance. She’s my adventure. She’s my muse. She’s my present day. She’s my plaster. She’s my drinking partner. She’s everything everyone else has written, and I find it impossible to find the words to describe what sharing this journey with her is like.

Solo travel also contains these things, but in a more wholesome and real manner. The journey is better when you have someone to share it with, because you get to be yourself and share yourself. Give a little, take a little. For me, that’s what travel is all about. For the record; She’s not the cat’s mother, she’s Reb and I met her in SW China while enjoying a sensational solo journey.

Dave and Deb from Canada’s Adventure Couple

To share a moment with someone when traveling is like no other. Enjoying that perfect sunset, catching a glimpse of a rare site or experiencing another culture is enhanced when you can share your excitement, laughter and opinions with someone.  Better yet, you can re-live the experience once you come home for years to come.

Having someone to share the journey with, keeps you from ever getting lonely.   At the end of the day when the excitement is still brewing you have a sounding board that can relate to everything you say.   You have someone by your side that cares about your opinion and what you’re talking about.  Not some stranger that is just waiting for you to finish speaking so that they can tell you about their latest adventure.

If you are afraid to try something, you may be more willing to give it a try if you have a partner beside you to give you courage.  When you are not feeling well, you have your loved one there to take care of you and give you the sympathy that you need, and when you are at the top of your game, you have that voice cheering you on.

Traveling together offers you two different outlooks on one destination making the experience richer in the end.

What about you? Do you think travelling with someone is better than going it alone?

If you’ve ever dreamed of quitting your job, selling your stuff and setting off to travel the world, it may be comforting to know that others have treaded that path before you.

Take Nora Dunn, for example. In 2006, she set out to travel the world with her boyfriend, Kelly. Three years later, they’re still travelling, and Nora has just published her first book, while also building a loyal following on her blog, The Professional Hobo. In this interview, Nora talks about what inspired her to set out to travel, some of the downsides of long-term travel, and her new book.

Back in 2006 when you decided to sell your business and belongings and head out travelling, why did you do it?

I was running a successful financial planning practice; I had a great income, and a great lifestyle to go with it. But as I was turning 30, my lifelong dream of long-term travel seemed farther and farther off, reserved for my retirement years. I had tried to satiate the travel bug in previous years with vacations, but I never came away feeling satisfied that I fully (or even partially) understood the destination or its people.

I couldn’t accept that my dream might be on hold for so long until retirement, dependent on me being in good health and other circumstances beyond my control, thirty years off. And so was born the idea to sell the lot, stash away proceeds until I come back (heh heh – if I ever go back), and travel slowly, in a financially sustainable manner. I travel with my boyfriend, with whom the idea was hatched.

In order to travel indefinitely (or in a financially sustainable manner), we work as we go. We each earn a modest income with an Internet connection, which in conjunction with working in trade for our accommodation sets us up nicely for months at a time.

Were there particular people who inspired you to set out and travel indefinitely?

When I set out to travel indefinitely, I thought I was the only person – ever – to think of doing something so wacky. (Although this might be a slight exaggeration, you get the idea).

I believe that almost everybody at one time or another has fantasized about throwing caution to the wind and taking the world by storm.

It was not until I hit the road and started mingling online with other travelers and writers that I met so many people who have inspired me to continue on and grow in my traveling and writing style. The list and scope of my sources of inspiration is too wide to specify anybody in particular. I tend to glean small pearls of wisdom from many people.

Did you expect you’d still be travelling now?

I certainly hoped that I would still be traveling now, but I tried not to set such expectations. I learned pretty early on that things don’t usually go according to the plan, so setting expectations can be an exercise in futility and ultimately disappointment.

Case in point: Having originally been headed for Central and South America, we were taken off-course right off the bat by a family wedding and a chance to travel across Canada by train and live in the mountains for a summer. Then, Hawaii took us by surprise where we accepted an opportunity to live on an ecologically sustainable permaculture property on the edge of paradise. Later an opportunity for a free trip in Australia came our way, which gave us a chance to see some of Southeast Asia enroute. We still haven’t seen Central and South America on this trip, and I certainly won’t stop traveling before that happens! So I would say it is safe to assume that we’ll be traveling for a while yet.

You’ve now co-authored a book, 10,001 Ways to Live Large on a Small Budget. As part of the promotion for that book, you wrote a great article about travelling full-time for less than $14,000 per year. Judging by the response to that article (123 comments and counting), you really struck a nerve with people with that post. Why do you think people responded so much?

I’m not the only person who has wondered if there is life beyond the rat race. In fact, I believe that almost everybody at one time or another has fantasized about throwing caution to the wind and taking the world by storm. By proposing that full-time travel is within many people’s financial grasp, and then by illustrating practical ways to swing it, a need seems to have been filled.

It is also an answer to the hundreds of emails I get from readers saying “I love what you do! How can I do it myself?” Stay tuned for a full-length book on the topic, by yours truly.

You’ve been in Australia since June 2008. Most travellers rarely spend more than a few weeks in one of their destinations. What do you see as the positives of staying in one place for so long?

As I recently watched my one year anniversary in Australia come and go, I wondered what happened; my stay in Oz was only supposed to be one year long, but instead our visas have been extended and working rights thrown in no less. (Yet another reason we don’t set expectations, as this is a rare opportunity for us “over-30” travelers who don’t easily get working visas abroad). This was a function of the volunteer work we did during and after the 2009 Victorian bush fires: Australia’s worst natural disaster.

It was a serendipitous gesture; being full-time travelers, it pays to slow down (I mean, to a crawl) sometimes. Actively backpacking (and even staying somewhere for a few months at a time) can take a toll; there comes a time when you simply need to stay longer – be it to hunker down and work on a business (as I have been doing) or make money somehow, or simply to set some roots and enjoy the warmth of good people and growing friendships. Being less transient for a while can be both grounding and fulfilling.

Although it was never my intent to stay in Australia so long, I will leave here with a foreign country in my heart, and I can even say I called it home for a while.

I’m sure many people envy you for being able to travel the world at your leisure, without being constrained by the need to return home to work. Are there drawbacks to your lifestyle though? Are there things you miss about the way life used to be before you set out on this journey?

There is certainly some give and take involved in traveling full-time. I’ve had to make compromises to live the life I do; for example, with my roots as an actor/singer/dancer in theatre and film, I really miss performing on stage. Relationships with friends and family back home also change: some people have an easier time adapting to long-distance communication than others.

I think that the daily grind of long-term or full-time travel is a mystery to many people. Some glamourize the idea, visualizing me lounging on beaches: laptop in one hand and frilly umbrella drink in the other, flitting from one touristy adventure to the next. Other people have a more grim idea of what my life looks like; wondering if they could make the same sacrifices in perceived quality of life that they assume I do. Truly though – the reality of long-term and full-time travel fits neither description. (As an answer to this, stay tuned at www.theprofessionalhobo.com for a week-in-the-life series, where full-time and long-term travelers share what a week in their lives on the road really looks like).

As far as things I miss, there are indeed a few: I miss having sushi whenever I want. I miss family game nights. I miss having a wardrobe that goes beyond what fits in my pack. I miss my loft. My boyfriend misses Canadian beer, and most of his rock climbing and mountaineering gear (which we sold).

But even given the drawbacks and sacrifices, I wouldn’t choose to be doing anything else. Every life choice requires some degree of compromise (whether we realize it or not), and I believe these are small prices to pay for the life I lead. I consider myself to be incredibly lucky, every single day.

OK, so you’re on the move soon. Where are you off to next?

I recently co-authored a book called 10,001 Ways to Live Large on a Small Budget. Canadian distribution is in the works, and as the only Canadian author I’ll be returning home to Canada in August to do a promotional tour of the book (oh yeah – and hug my mum for the first time in 2.5 years!). Enroute I have some business to take care of in New York City. After, I’ll return to our temporary home base in Australia where my boyfriend will be holding down the fort, then possibly head to India after that. I’m not sure yet; the world has a funny habit of showing me the travel opportunities I need, when I need them. My job is simply to keep my eyes open, and continue to see the world – and its people – with inspired wonder and amazement.

THIS is temptation. THIS signifies a certain head toss to the grinding pressure of today’s world, a ballsy show of throwing caution to the wind. If you look at it with just the right tilt of your head, you’ll get the same glint in your eyes. Selling everything I own would enable the purchase of a few acres in any number of states, on which I could move or build a small house, delivering my bobbling head into town once a week for provisions in THIS.

Temptation: Ford pickup truck.

I don’t succumb. Others in my life would highly disapprove and I highly value these others. I photograph the Ford and pull back onto the road with a slow-mo melodrama moving frame by frame through my brain. It conveniently loops from the part that shows me walking up to the house, knocking on the door, engaging the owner in negotiations, taking the keys from them and driving away into the sunset in that truck. My melodramas never include the pragmatic part about what I’d do with all my crap in the Yukon, the exchange of titles, discussing what oil the Ford uses, insurance, etc.

Not many of us ever throw this degree of caution to the wind. But who among us hasn’t entertained the thought of running away from home, even if it’s for a mere few harmless days? It’s a bit risque and for the first time in my long history of solo road trips I see it for that. You’re out there by the droves sending me emails about the longing to get out there. I fully understand the longing. Few things in our lives are as liberating, empowering, and rejuvenating as a solo road trip.

So I ask all of you with latent and repressed open road wanderlust sitting at home - fantasizing about the cloak of anonymity, arm draped over the wheel, or resting lightly on handle bars - aren’t you late, for nowhere in particular?

Editor’s note: This book review contains affiliate links.

Review by Craig Martin from Indie Travel Podcast

I haven’t yet made it to north Africa, so when the chance came to read Richard Bangs’ Quest For The Kasbah, I snapped it up. Richard tries to take us with him through a narrative of several visits to Morocco. He also makes a few philosophical detours to connect his growing understanding of the kasbah with modern, western life.

Quest For The Kasbah by Richard Bangs.

The book is a tie-in to a new American TV show called “Adventures with Purpose” and, specifically, an episode called Morocco: Quest for the Kasbah which is also hosted by Richard Bangs. The advertising copy makes great claims for the author; how have I never heard of this “renowned explorer” and “the world’s foremost adventurer”? It must be something to do with the lack of PBS shows in New Zealand because he’s produced several TV documentaries and thirteen other books.

Of structure and style

The book is constructed as a linear narrative with several jumps between trips to Morocco. At times it almost degenerates into a “what-I ate-for-lunch” diary but manages to redeem itself by offering glimpses of Moroccan life along the way. The view which Richard offers seems alien to me: not because of the landscape, but because of how it is viewed. Maybe it’s a generational or cultural gap, but I struggled to align myself with this way of looking at a place.

What the book does do well is tell stories: little narratives that capture a splash of colour or the heat of the desert sun.

The writing style was also too flowery for my taste. At times it was difficult to follow as I struggled with unusual metaphors which would have been better suited to a spoken conversation or perhaps a TV screen. Here, they came across as overwritten and verging on pretentious.

Questions and answers
The first question I hoped this book would answer is “what is a kasbah?” I was quite lost for some time! The glossy photo insert in the middle of the book has only one picture of one, and that as a backdrop. The introduction takes us to an African river descent, the first few chapters to hiking in the Atlas mountains … and still no mention of a kasbah. Perhaps that’s the publisher’s fault, forcing an interesting journey into the constraints of the TV show. In any case, it left me hanging.

Rather than helping me off the ledge, the book offers a glimpse here, a peek there, slowly weaving insight through stories and recorded conversations. As a result, I understand something of the spirit of a kasbah, but couldn’t recognise one if I was standing next to it. The author’s laboured juxtaposition of digital nomads and kasbah dwellers casts as much light on the subject as the recorded conversations between himself and tourism representatives. In the readers’ quest for the kasbah, the kasbah itself is somewhat missing.

The skinny
What the book does do well is tell stories: little narratives that capture a splash of colour or the heat of the desert sun. Taken as a collection of short stories, this book succeeds in transporting us from mountain villages to Casablanca. We see women’s working collectives; the many tricks of recalcitrant mountain guides; and a young boy turning down his first opportunity to smoke a hookah pipe. Not every snapshot rings true though; there’s something too romantic, too reductionist about them that leaves one in doubt.

Unfortunately, this is not a book I would recommend you run out and buy. It would serve well as further reading for someone who enjoys the TV series or someone wanting a taste of Morocco before their journey. In the end these continued glimpses make us want to go and experience the cities, fortresses and mountains ourselves, to find our own nomadic shelter and muddle through the thronging streets of the bazaars. And that can’t be a bad thing.

***

Review by Christine Gilbert from Almost Fearless

Richard Bangs is the consummate travel guide.  Perhaps it was his early years running his own tour company, that developed his ability to weave history, cultural notes and the specific names for everyday objects into his travel stories, or maybe he’s just an info geek like much of the PBS watching audience he’s writing for - whatever the case, his writing is thick with the details that make you feel like he’s not only showing you where he’s been, but teaching you a college level course on it’s significance.  Purple hued islands are not just scenery but the Iles Purpuraires, were “Romans in the first century traded for a precious purple dye for their royal robes, the dye secreted by murex, a type of mollusk that thrives off these motes.” He goes on to tell of Cleopatra’s love the color and it’s subsequent fall from grace only generations later when “Cleopatra’s grandson, Ptolemy, was murdered by Emperor Caligula for having the cheekiness to sport a purple robe.”  A paragraph later he switches to more current history and within two pages we’ve covered a span of  a few thousand years.  You know how the islands looked, their historical importance and a fun fact or two.  This is Bangs’ style, and it doesn’t relent for a moment.

If you enjoy the careful detail of the history channel, the narrative voice of NPR and some of the travel channels’ better programming, then this book is for you.

For the traveler, he could write about anything and captivate, but the book’s theme is particularly intriguing, especially as he examines our modern day meeting places and the advent of the digital nomad.  The café, the nouveau-Kasbah, with weary travelers plugging in and finding respite: coffee, wifi and a comfy place to sit, closely resemble those Moroccan kasbahs where no stranger would be turned away. Bangs’ only lament is our seeming addiction to being plugged in: cell phone to our ear, the world around us blocked out and potential interactions wither on the vine.

If you’ve ever wanted to visit Morocco, Bangs doesn’t hold back.  The descriptions are visceral, evoking all the senses, and if you ever wondered what a Moroccan market is like or how traveling through the Sahara via camel would feel, then you’ll devour his imagery.  There are times when it becomes too much, when the author steps over ‘a large scarab beetle’ or notices another man’s watch by brand, “his Tag Heuer catches sparks of light” you might wonder if he’s just showing off.  Fortunately, he never gets too lost in the minutiae and quickly gets back on course, splicing in narratives and conversations from the road.

Ultimately, Quest For The Kasbah fascinates on many levels.  The exploration of the concept of meeting places both now and in antiquity feels like a worthwhile topic.  The travel is tightly coordinated and while Bangs didn’t lounge, he didn’t rush past scenes faster than felt appropriate. Occasionally the narrative gets lost in historical facts or sensory detail, but never for long.  It’s not light reading, but it’s not a slog either.  If you enjoy the careful detail of the history channel, the narrative voice of NPR and some of the travel
channels’ better programming, then this book is for you.  For me, Quest For The Kasbah pushed all my travel nerd buttons, and I was left only with one question: how soon can I get to Morocco?

Quest For The Kasbah is available through Amazon.com.