Bro, Thailand in the 80s…

Fuck I hate that I am writing this post, but I have to get it out. I don't want to be that guy: "back in the day, things were so much better". And frankly, I'm not really saying that's the case. In fact, let's be real — the accommodations are better now, the food is better now, travel is easier, roads are better. Moreover, with the internet, travel planning is much easier, from discovery to booking. The algorithm can dial in your vibes and lead you toward the promised land.

But I have to say it, because it's in me. I know, I'm so lame. Don't run away in disappointment. Hear me out — in the days before the internet and smart devices, travel was just better. And if I really dig in, I'm inclined to say it was much much better. I might even go on to say that I feel really sad for those that never experienced what it was like in the age before technology ruined travel forever.

Before I dig in, let's be clear. Anyone who ever traveled before me had every right to say the same thing. "Bro, Thailand in the 60s, 70s, 80s was so much cooler than the 90s". No argument from me, you've got me. Additionally, people love their experiences now. And they get to believe that they had just as good an experience seeing Angkor Wat by motorbike, or tasting Cacio e Pepe in a hidden Roman trattoria, or hiking to Torres del Paine in Chile. They're wrong. But they get to believe it and I won't tell them otherwise.

This is our little secret.

I studied abroad in 1991 in Rome. Leaving home for this experience was like traveling to the moon now. The only communication I had with my family was an expensive weekly phone call from the pay phone in my school's hallway. The only connection I had with my friends was hand-written letters that took weeks to fly back and forth using the Vatican's postal system. The only news we received from the USA was secondhand through the Italian newspapers or by sneaking into a luxury hotel to peek at their latest copy of the International Herald Tribune.

This wasn't just about the communication and news gaps. There were so many cultural differences that hadn't crossed the pond yet. American-made blue jeans were a commodity that you could trade for great value. Movies were released on a multi-year delay. Trends that had long since made their way from America’s coast to coast had barely reached a soul in Italy at the time.

Which meant we were immersed. When I last visited my alma mater in Rome, the kids were all on their phones. There was a full-fledged computer lab. There was zero gap in communication or cultural influences. The same TikTok and Instagram trends that Roman teens were following were on the devices of the Americans.

Homogeneity has replaced immersion.

And that makes me sad. Not to mention the universal brain-rot and time-waste that has plagued the entire world through endless doom scrolling that draws people away from just being in a place. Think about what previously occupied those hours, day after day. It is not inconsequential, it’s significant.

My experience hit different. I'm sorry. Suck it up. Being isolated from home on all those levels did a number of things: (1) It forced me to absorb more of the local culture, as I had fewer distractions (2) I connected more deeply with the local friends and people who were on my program as we didn't have our friends from home a FaceTime call away. In fact, some of my dearest friends came from that time. (3) I had to learn the language, the streets, the way to navigate actual fear — I couldn't outsource any of it.

I experienced real fear as an American while protests were flaring up over the first Gulf War. I couldn't use Google Maps to find my way around, so I had to learn the streets of Rome — really learn them. I couldn't use a translate app to buy my school supplies, order a meal, or interact with locals, so I learned Italian. On every level that matters in hindsight, I appreciate the challenges that came with travel in the 90s.

If you know me at all or have read my previous blogs, you know what's coming next. Following my study abroad I landed a job with an adventure travel company focused on Southeast Asia and then started my own. For the next 12 years of my life, I was immersed in developing and selling unique experiences to wealthy travelers who wanted us to do the heavy lifting. And truth be told, they needed us. It wasn't like today where you can book an Airbnb and then pop over to experiences for a street food tour, or mountain bike excursion, or museum tour with an art professor.

Pre-internet, we invested time and money in exploring and developing destinations so that we could share our expertise for a tidy sum. So I would spend months a year poking around looking for great places, great people, great experiences that would dazzle my clients so that they would tell two friends, and they'd tell two friends, and so on, and so on…

Here again, the whole thing was richer. People were present in ways you cannot fathom in the era of screens. Instead of heads buried in phones, people would look at you. And if you were a curiosity, as a white man could be in Southeast Asia at that time, you'd connect. It was easy to spend an afternoon chatting with a shop owner. Or make good friends with your kayaking guide, who wasn't taking pictures of you for Instagram. They were just showing you their country, sincerely.

And if they did take your picture, you had no idea how it would turn out. You protected your film rolls preciously (screw you airport x-ray scanners), then dropped them at the pharmacy or camera store back home. Even then, only people who showed up at your place saw them before the prints landed in a shoebox.

Planning looked like this. You bought guidebooks. Lots of guidebooks — Lonely Planet, Moon, Rough Guides. Closest thing to research you could find, and they were often outdated the moment they hit the shelves. From research to print was at least a year. Hotels folded, restaurants moved, sites got overrun.

You could rely on friends, but nobody really knows your sensibilities. And then there were travel agents. We used to refer to your average travel agent as Marge from St. Louis. The profession didn't attract the most sophisticated sorts — it was usually housewives looking for some extra income.

Which is where specialty outfitters came in. Companies like mine, or Backroads, Mountain Travel Sobek, Abercrombie and Kent, Intrepid. Destination experts who crafted finely tuned itineraries that cost a fortune. You could buy a new car or take an exotic trip. Most of our clients could afford both. Owning the information was the whole business. We sold access.

Nowadays anyone with wifi can find the same stuff. It's no longer exclusive to the well-heeled and well-funded, and I understand that's a positive in many ways. But the exclusivity of being in-the-know was a massive driver to explore more and expand our client base. I was always looking to broaden the tent to younger and more budget-conscious travelers.

Which brings me to backpackers. I recently wrote about the Banana Pancake Trail. Here is where we found overlap. Backpackers were pioneers in seeking out experiences for pennies on the dollar. What we would sell for $1000, they found for $10. But it took work. It started with the guidebooks and then a lot of chance, patience, and fortitude for discomfort to reach that special corner of the world.

The greatest growth exists through the greatest suffering. So here's where I'm planting the final flag. Travel in the past was simply harder, and harder was better. You earned your stripes and stories by overcoming the lack of information, navigating a globe that wasn't handed to you on a digital platter, and creating a more deeply personal experience from the effort.

Go ahead. Hate me. I deserve it.

And here's why.

I'm writing this on a laptop inches from the beach on Gili Air. I'm staying in a modernly renovated bungalow while my business is fully operating on the other side of the world. I check security cameras, text staff, field alarm alerts, ping AI and TikTok for recommendations, book everything online, post photos on Instagram. I take full advantage of every convenience that has graced the travel world, I love the algorithm.

So yes, I'm a fucking hypocrite. But we cannot live in the past. Any nostalgia is just your mind craving something that doesn't exist anymore. Sure, I can seek more remote parts, but it's almost impossible to get off the grid. Nor would I want to. I love traveling in the modern era. I love the information, communication, and connectivity. I'm not saying we can or should ever go back to the way travel was.

I'm just saying it was better.