7 Reasons Why Backpacking Is Like Gaming
Video games promise a break from the mundane and invite their player into a world of endless adventure.
Backpacking, a long-term travel lifestyle, offers the same appeal.
I clocked in impressive time behind the Playstation as a kid. When I say impressive, let’s be clear, I mean a grossly unhealthy amount of time.
Unlike the other punks bound to squeaky desks under florescent lights for seven hours a day, I was homeschooled.
This meant my childhood was more or less just that. My childhood.
There would be no pale-skinned, pumpkin-bellied English teacher trying to force me to read Catcher in the Rye. Who had time for that?
There were dragons to slay (Skyrim).
Treasures to be hunted (Uncharted).
Waves of drones to beat back (Battlefront II, duh).
This description of my childhood may lead you to believe that I’m currently writing this from the basement of my mom’s house while my fingers fumble between a greasy controller and a 2-liter Coke bottle.
If you thought that, congrats, you’re almost right.
Just exchange the Coke for a coffee, and my mom’s basement for a cafe in the Netherlands.
It’s a gamer cafe. Five box TVs are stacked in front of me, each displaying fuzzy graphics of the classics. A tangled pile of PlayStation, Xbox, and Nintendo controllers are begging for my attention.
All of them are greasy.
I haven’t gamed since beginning my nomadic chapter six months ago. My first thought is how dangerously quick the moves are returning to me (Dutch cafe hipsters spill their oat milk lattes as they watch in frightened awe).
My second thought is that the structure of these games is weirdly similar to the life of a backpacker, dust sucker, vagabond, and every other denomination of a long-term traveler.
Here’s why.
1. New Character (Start Game)
You just spawned into an unfamiliar world. You probably don’t have any armor. You definitely don’t have any weapons. The last thing you want to do is run into bad guys.
Start Game.
It was my first big trip to Europe. I spawned outside of a club in Madrid with a staggering level of confidence and not an ounce of experience to justify it.
The walk home would only be 15 minutes. That’s all I focused on.
Apparently, the fact that I was alone and it was four in the morning hadn’t reached the frontal cortex.
The plan went perfectly.
That is, until I pulled my eyes off my feet (which were somehow moving by themselves) and noticed eight rather unfriendly-looking gypsies surrounding me.
At the beginning of a traveler’s journey, easily avoidable mistakes will be made.
You’ll be ripped off, get lost, overpack, miss trains, take the wrong trains, and occasionally run into a pack of feral gypsies.
It’s part of the process.
The good news is, just like in video games, the more time you clock, the easier it becomes.
In other words, you start to level up.
2. Leveling Up / Experience Points (XP+)
So, you’ve got a nice suit of armor, a collection of weapons, maybe even a potion or two. Does that mean you’re ready to skip to the last level and challenge the final boss?
Sure.
Just as much as your 70-liter Osprey pack, baggy elephant-print pants, and a ticket to a yoga retreat makes you Siddhartha.
At the start, level-ups are scored quickly. It only took one experience in Madrid to realize I probably shouldn’t walk home alone at 4 AM.
As the story continues, though, each level becomes more difficult to attain.
One way to ensure steady increases in XP (personal growth) is to accept quests that push your comfort zone.
I recently spent five weeks in Morocco. Morocco is a country where you can very quickly get off the beaten path and end up in towns that aren’t listed on Google Maps, aren’t home to English speakers, and have limited electricity and water.
Yet, if you stay on the beaten path, you’ll likely be pulled onto the incredibly beaten path of the souk.
Souks in Morocco have been around for over a thousand years. The shop owners there are commonly the children of previous shop owners.
This means you are not merely negotiating with a fifty-year-old Moroccan man; you are facing a boss-level merchant with hundreds of years of sales distilled into their silk tongue.
They will swindle you out of money you didn’t even know you had, and they can do it in five languages!
The souk eats low-level vagabonds quicker than your dad eats snacks on a long road trip.
Nevertheless, these are the types of places that you need to spend time in to earn your stripes. Once you do, other locations become easier to navigate.
I was in Paris after Morocco. Despite its reputation for a thick population of pickpockets, beastly rats, and rude waiters, I found it deeply tranquil.
(Regular access to A/C and toilet paper makes all the difference.)
3. Changing Avatars / Choosing Characters
In video games, success often hinges on either switching characters to the one with the best chance of completing the mission or equipping your player accordingly.
My Morocco avatar–unkept, suspecting, fast-walking, slippery, brutish–was not functional in the City of Love, where style and leisure reign supreme.
Adaptation is crucial if you are looking to maximize your travel experiences.
In Morocco, a friend and I were invited to a local family’s home for dinner. They had cooked a beautiful tanjine for us, which happened to have a little meat in it — goat, I think.
Upon realizing this, my friend promptly pushed the plate away. She was vegan, you see.
Maybe she didn’t realize that meat is one of the most expensive items to serve, making it a great gesture to honor guests. Perhaps she didn’t consider the time this family spent preparing the tanjine for us. Maybe she had a health condition that would’ve stopped her heart had she swallowed one sliver of goat.
Even if the latter was the case, it probably doesn’t justify disrespecting your hosts while on the road (or really anywhere else).
Reversal: Adapting without compromising your moral code is a thin line to walk.
You shouldn’t sacrifice your core beliefs to please others.
This is especially challenging while traveling because local customs and belief systems can drastically differ in each destination or even completely oppose your own beliefs.
Remember you are the guest. No one changes their perspective on morality, gender roles, political beliefs, or any other serious subject after you vomit your own views onto them.
As you level up, knowing what is worth adapting to becomes clearer. It’s a learnable skill.
4. Skills and Abilities
My Skyrim character was an Argonian, a race of large lizards that could walk on two legs and breathe underwater. That’s why I chose one as my character; breathing underwater was a valuable trait in the game.
Learning to be comfortable in uncomfortable situations is a valuable trait while traveling. So is social astuteness, problem-solving, and reading body language.
Hard skills like languages, finding a good loaf of bread, and map literacy can go a long way too.
I once met a guy that had traveled the world with nothing but a pan flute and a toothbrush. Whenever he wanted to eat, he’d go to the town square and busk away until he got tired.
5. Main Mission v.s. Side Quests
Most role-playing games (RPGs) are heavily loaded with side-quests. If you played any of the Fallouts, you know what I’m talking about.
A passing character might offer bits of vague information about an abandoned factory in an unexplored corner of the map; that was enough for it to be interesting, which is all it ever needed to be for you to clock in another three hours of play.
While side quests aren’t a necessary component of your main mission, they can be a fun change of pace.
I lived with shepherds in Sardinia for a summer and learned to milk goats, make cheese, and cure meat. Learning these skills wasn’t crucial to the success of my main mission, but they were new and interesting experiences.
One of the challenges shared between RPGs and vagabonding is that you can easily be swept away by side quests.
This is because you have entered a realm of extraordinary freedom.
Want to join the group at the hostel leaving for a windsurfing trip down the coast? Great. How about the other group trekking into the mountains to swim in waterfalls? That seems fun. Or you could stay another week or two and continue to learn about the place you’re in. But what about that cheap flight to a place you didn’t even know existed until an hour ago? What if you invited the cute Latvian to join you? Yo!
Even after the restrictions of time and money, you’ll still find a vast number of realistic paths to move forward on.
Knowing your main mission before leaving home will make the decision process easier.
“If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable.”
–Seneca
You don’t need to plan every detail, you actually shouldn’t, just have an idea of:
- What you your big goals are for the trip (why are you traveling)
- Places or skills you want to learn more about
- Who you want to be when you go home
Knowing these answers will be your port.
Otherwise, you risk becoming the guy that accepted a side quest to a full moon party in Thailand.
Instead of finding himself, he found himself, a year later on some disgusting excuse for a beach handing out tantric massage flyers for a cult that promises enlightenment (only if he can bring in a few more members).
Don’t be the tantric massage flyer guy.
Know the difference between your main mission and the side quests.
6. Inventory / Rucksack
Video game characters typically have limits to what they can carry. The higher level you are, the more you can carry.
In the vagabond game, this relationship is inverted.
The more traveled you are, the less you pack.
The group that comes clobbering into the hostel wearing backpacks bigger than them, a utility belt, and the U-shaped head cushions for airplanes are the players just spawning into the game.
That’s to say, they are clueless.
Some people just can’t believe that toothpaste and shampoo can be bought outside their country.
Strict minimalism is the best way to rip road.
Less weight to carry. Fewer items to worry about losing. Less juggernauting down an otherwise peaceful cobblestone path while shucking village children aside with your stupid roller bag.
7. Bad Guys / Final Boss
The bad guys in Madrid were not the only ones I’ve bumped into along the dusty path. Oh no, there have been many more.
Like the hostel dragon (snorer), whose every exhale rivals the city-leveling, super atomic roar that Godzilla spews out.
Or my personal nemesis, the 3 AM packer wielding crunchy plastic bags. This ambush ruins many on the road. Never leave home without your shield (earplugs).
Or how about the scoundrel that insists on sleeping naked, on top of the sheets, in a 10-person hostel room?
Maybe I could’ve understood it if we were packed in the heart of some casbah, 1,000 miles from the nearest A/C unit, but that wasn’t the case. We were in Paris, at the nicest hostel I’ve ever stayed at! Villainous prick.
Then you always cross paths with a few free-spirited couples who think going at it like jackrabbits on the bottom bunk while you’re trying to sleep four feet above them is acceptable.
It’s even worse when the bunks are stacked three or four high. When the whole tower starts to sway, it becomes too dangerous to climb down!
Do you attempt the descent, and risk falling to your demise? Or do you stay in the shaking nest, becoming more traumatized with every passing minute?
These bad guys become easier to deal with as the journey continues. Eventually, you become numb to their idiotic behaviors.
The final boss will not be so easily defeated. And unlike in the video games, it’s not some ultra-powerful, yet vincible, character patiently waiting for you to arrive only after you have leveled up enough to challenge them.
No. The final boss is already here. The final boss is you. Your loneliness, unrealistic expectations, lack of perspective, the list goes on.
This is the story of every path in life; however, when you travel alone it becomes amplified because there is no one to blame.
Game Over?
Both vagabonding and video games promise a world of adventure, where facing challenges is inevitable.
The satisfaction is gained from leveling up your character, aiming for the perfect 100-level score, and striving to reach your highest potential.
It could be an impossible goal to achieve. It very well may be.
But that was never the point.
You don’t play games just to finish them. You play because you love the game.
You travel for the sake of travel.
