Key Takeaways
- After over a decade of traveling the world on a budget, I’ve met a lot of long-term travelers. Most are amazing, insightful, generous, and open-minde
- Unfortunately, within the long-term travel community, there seem to be some travelers who make travel out to be a competition. Maybe you’ve seen it d
- To them, it’s a badge of honor to say, “Well, I did France for X dollars cheaper than you,” as though the cheaper you go, the more authentic your expe
After over a decade of traveling the world on a budget, we’ve met countless long-term travelers. Most are thoughtful, generous, and deeply curious—people who’ve broadened our perspective on both the world and ourselves.
Yet within the long-term travel community, a subtle—and sometimes not-so-subtle—competition occasionally emerges. You may have witnessed it: travelers comparing trip costs like trophies, as if the lowest expense proves superior authenticity or skill.
To some, declaring “I did France for X dollars less than you” feels like validation—implying that lower spending equals deeper cultural immersion or greater travel prowess.
We’ve seen this mindset surface in comments on our cost breakdowns at routeforless.com. Readers often remark, “You overspent—I did it for half the price,” missing the point entirely.
We’ve never embraced this race to the bottom.
To us, being a backpacker or budget traveler has little to do with raw dollar amounts—and everything to do with intentionality. Just as you don’t need wealth to travel, you also don’t need austerity to travel well. Budget travel isn’t defined by deprivation; it’s defined by discernment.
One of our biggest frustrations is the conflation of frugality with self-denial. Why save for months only to arrive somewhere and refuse every meaningful experience—museums, local meals, guided walks—just to preserve a number?
If your funds are limited, consider prioritizing quality over duration: a shorter, richer trip beats a longer one filled with constant compromise. Saying “I’d love to do that—but I can’t afford it” dozens of times erodes joy more than any expense ever could.
Travel, to us, is about being frugal—not cheap.
It means avoiding waste: skipping impulse snacks, resisting souvenir clutter, choosing mindful spending over nightly extravagance. It’s knowing when and where your money creates real value—regardless of your total budget.
Yes, destinations *can* be visited for next to nothing. One traveler reportedly spent just $5,000 USD over 12 months across Europe—by squatting, hitchhiking, avoiding museums, and relying entirely on others’ generosity.
That’s an extreme example of low-cost travel—but it raises an important question: what’s the point of being *there* if you’re not engaging with the place?
Camping, cooking every meal, abstaining from drinks, and skipping all paid experiences will always slash your costs. But travel isn’t just about geography—it’s about connection, learning, and presence.
If you aren’t exploring history, witnessing landmarks, tasting local food, or speaking with residents, what are you really experiencing?
In our destination guides, we openly acknowledge when we’ve overspent—and explain why. Travel is our life, and occasional splurges (a proper meal, a meaningful tour, a comfortable bed) reflect values beyond spreadsheet totals. Our guides aim to show what a destination *could* cost—not just the bare minimum, but what it *should* cost for a balanced, respectful, and enriching experience.
Our definition of a budget traveler? Someone who spends thoughtfully—not minimally. Someone who travels with purpose, curiosity, and flexibility—whether they have $50 or $500 per day.
We didn’t visit Italy to skip gelato or skip family-run trattorias.
We didn’t go to Bordeaux to decline a vineyard tour.
We didn’t save for over a year just to reheat lentils in a hostel kitchen every night.
We didn’t fly to Australia dreaming of the Outback—only to cancel the trip because “it’s out of budget.”
Early in our travels, we made those exact choices—skipping cooking classes in Bologna, passing on snorkeling in Koh Tao, declining historic sites like the Tower of London—all in the name of “sticking to the budget.”
We still regret those omissions.
We told ourselves, “Next time—when I have more money.”
But “next time” rarely arrives. Life shifts. Priorities change. Opportunities fade.
Definitions of “budget” vary widely. For mainstream travel publications—or even veteran guides like Rick Steves—$120+ hotels and $40 meals qualify as budget-friendly. To many readers, those figures represent accessible, comfortable travel.
Conversely, some readers view our guides as “too expensive”—not realizing our numbers include meaningful experiences, fair wages for local providers, and sustainable choices.
There’s always a cheaper way—if you’re willing to sacrifice depth, safety, ethics, or enjoyment. But budget travel shouldn’t require sacrificing the very reasons you traveled in the first place.
