The avid traveller: Are you adventurous or just running away from problems?

What drives us to leave it all behind and venture into the unknown? Are we chasing highs, running from our problems – or is the answer more complicated?

I was 16 when I made the promise. I looked Ma in the eye and told her I was moving to South America when I graduated from university.

That wasn’t a normal thing to say. Especially not for my family. Especially not for brown girls. Especially not for Indo-Fijian girls.

I prepared for the big day as you would expect from a student: studiously. I took Spanish night classes while in high school, studied the language at university, joined Spanglish online chat rooms, watched every Spanish-language DVD available at Onehunga’s United Video, read Federico Garcia Lorca’s Romancero Gitano, and befriended local Latinos to practice with.

I was not obsessed. I was determined.

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We all know someone who leaves it all behind to venture into the unknown. But what makes us do it? Are we simply weaving narratives to convince ourselves that travel leads to happiness, is it about the highs and the novelties – or are we just running away from something deeper within ourselves?

Or is the truth much more complicated?

At age 22, I arrived alone in Santiago, Chile, before heading to Bolivia and Peru. I had a one-way ticket and a 70-litre backpack that hugged my life. It was 2014.

Exploring archaeological sites near Cusco, Peru. Photo / Varsha Anjali.

The big dream ended after just six months: unaffordable overseas interest rates on student loans dragged me back with violent tears.

Take two: I moved to Britain four years later. After working for a football club for two years, the company sponsored me so I could stay for a few more before becoming a permanent resident. I finally felt legitimately close to achieving The (second) big dream – until somewhat dramatic circumstances forced my hand and I returned to Auckland in 2022.

For the first time since I was a teen, I had no secret plan to get out. My British zeitgeist resembled unemployment, debilitating anxiety, the pandemic, Brexit, the Premier League, broken heart, broken brain, Boris Johnson, Russian oligarchs – and war in Europe. I craved stability. I finally craved it more than the destination.

The juxtaposition of my brazen departure to South America and my relieved return from Britain made me suspicious of my motivations for long-term travel. In turn, I became suspicious of everyone else’s.

While the pandemic greatly influenced my longing for groundedness, for Auckland-based videographer Nick Dobbie it catalysed the opposite.

Dobbie embarked on a year-long trip across New Zealand on his motorbike soon after Covid restrictions were lifted. Initially motivated by a “lust” for adventure and new experiences, he was also frustrated with what he considered a false narrative.

“All of the kind of structures that you’re told – go to uni and come out of uni, there’ll be a job waiting,” the 27-year-old said. “I was like, well, these systems don’t even really make any sense. It can be changed in a day”.

Dobbie said after seeing the impact of Covid and people losing their jobs, he didn’t see the point in following certain expectations on how he should live his life.

“People are telling me do this, do that. And I thought, ‘How about no? How about I just do what I want and I’ll figure it out myself‘.”

His first major solo experience was in essence similar to mine; a rejection of how things were. An intense chase for change. When I thought about South America, I felt freedom. When I spoke Spanish, I felt warmth. When I wasn’t escaping into el mundo latino as a young person, a different reality was swelling in the gut, compressing the organs, squeezing the throat.

At Salineras de Maras, Peru. Photo / Varsha Anjali

Emotions around leaving home can be strong, however, the motives aren’t always straightforward. “It’s very nuanced,” Dobbie said. “I think it’s very easy on the outside to see it as running from your problems. But at the same time, people solve and deal with their issues in different ways.”

Eventually, Dobbie went on to sail in the Caribbean after meeting a sailor, known as Captain Mark. Last year, the pair were in Panama attempting to cross the South Pacific Ocean, the largest ocean crossing in the world via sailing.

At one point he ended up on a fishing trawler out of Nelson for three weeks, which he said was the “hardest job I’ve ever done”.

Dobbie explained it is in seeking, like how he ended up on the trawler, where he learned important life lessons. “That’s where I learned about different sides of life and hard work,” he said.

“I came from a very privileged media university background. When I showed up on the fishing trawler in my stupid little knit jumper with my guitar, I realised ... oh, I’m here by choice. I’m not here by necessity. This is like a tourism act for me.”

He recounted a time while sailing in the Caribbean when he interviewed a globe-trotting cyclist and geologist called Chuck.

“I just asked him ... is this a ride that you can get off?”

Chuck, who had cycled from the tip of North America to the bottom of South America twice at that point, initially joked, telling Dobbie he felt it had ruined his life. He added he had an inner peace, saying to Dobbie: “This is just the life that I’ve chosen and people might not be able to understand that I don’t want just to be settled in one place and have one job and routine, which I think we need and crave but is somewhat not suited for everyone”.

Dobbie got a different perspective from snake expert Joy, who was living out of her truck in South America, travelling around and educating the locals on snakes.

“She loved the freedom of going where she wanted and travelling. But at the same time, she was looking for a sense of purpose to give back to the world,” Dobbie said.

By this point, Dobbie’s motives for movement changed from that initial lust for adventure he had when he embarked on the motorcycle trip in New Zealand. What he took away, he said, was that the idea of freedom is something deeply personal.

“For some people, freedom is going to that job every day and staying put in one place and for other people it’s just having no ties whatsoever.

“I kind of came to the realisation that I need ties because otherwise, I’d become ungrounded – and that’s when I am running from my problems because I’ve stopped seeking novelty. Instead, I’m seeking distraction.

“That’s when you feel like you’re drifting ... that’s when you’ve moved from the pure joy of experiencing new things towards a sort of constant seek for novelty to distract what else is going on,” he said.

Travelling didn’t magically solve Dobbie’s issues – nor mine – but, independently, experiences help one understand the world around them. From learning about his limits to experiencing great empathy for people and their stories he otherwise wouldn’t have known, his adventures led to real personal growth.

“It’s not a perfect story and, by no means are all of my problems solved and whatnot. But I don’t regret anything,” he said. “All of those experiences have led me to a point where I understand myself to a far greater degree than if I had stayed and just done the same thing and wistfully looked out the window all the time.”

So, is it travelling or is it running away? Dobbie believes that’s a question only the individual can answer.

“I can’t answer it for you, but you will be able to when you get back.”