Key Takeaways
- For the last three months, I’ve been traveling around Australasia, visiting New Zealand, traveling in Fiji, and roadtriping around Australia (for the
- During my travels here, I’ve noticed something interesting — a lot of the travelers I see are young (18-24) gap year kids on a RTW trip, and most neve
- They want to get out of the party hostels, visit little towns, head west, and, really get to know the culture.
For the last three months, I’ve been traveling around Australasia, visiting New Zealand, exploring Fiji, and road-tripping across Australia (for the second time).
During my travels here, I’ve noticed something interesting — a lot of the travelers I see are young (18–24) gap year students on a round-the-world trip, and most never consider leaving “the beaten track.” It’s primarily older travelers who seem motivated to venture somewhere different.
They want to get out of the party hostels, visit small towns, head west, and truly immerse themselves in local culture.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m delighted to see people traveling at all ages.
Whether by tour, cruise, car, or foot, taking that first step is an achievement in itself. In my view, travel holds immense power to transform perspectives — and the simple act of choosing to explore beyond home is remarkable. Too few people do it.
Yet it’s frustrating to observe so many young travelers sticking rigidly to the same destinations, rarely stepping outside hostel walls, prioritizing drinking over discovery, and defaulting to stereotypical tourist experiences. Popular places are popular for good reasons — and there’s nothing wrong with visiting them. I do too.
But when you have months — not days — at your disposal, there’s little justification for skipping lesser-known regions.
The majority of long-term travelers consistently gravitate toward major hubs. Few actively seek out alternatives. Even when encouraged to explore beyond the obvious, many remain uninterested — content to follow the crowd because “that’s where everyone else is.”
What’s the value in traveling just to replicate behaviors you could practice at home?
Take Western Australia, for example. Few backpackers go there. Most say they “don’t have time,” despite spending weeks or months in the country. Others offer no real explanation at all.
Yet Western Australia ranks among the most breathtaking regions in the nation. Locals often insist it’s the best place to experience authentic Australian landscapes and culture — far less developed than the east coast and rich in natural diversity. Still, most travelers bypass it entirely, opting instead for the well-worn Sydney-to-Cairns corridor.
This pattern repeats elsewhere: In New Zealand, travelers rely on hop-on-hop-off buses and rarely stray from Queenstown or Rotorua. In Fiji, the Yasawa Islands dominate itineraries. In Laos, Vang Vieng’s tubing scene becomes synonymous with the entire country.
There have always been travelers who prefer familiar paths. Some simply prioritize social connection and comfort over curiosity. But if your sole objective is getting drunk abroad, the logistical and financial rationale for international travel vanishes.
Conversations with tourism professionals suggest this trend is intensifying.
Backpacking has increasingly become a streamlined industry across this region. Everything caters to convenience: dedicated backpacker transport networks, hostel pickup services, curated group activities, themed dinners, and even in-house bars designed to keep guests on-site. The result? Long-term travel feels more like an extended, budget-friendly holiday than an independent journey.
Historically, backpacking centered on self-reliance — navigating unfamiliar transit systems, deciphering languages, solving problems on the fly. That process wasn’t just about logistics; it was integral to personal growth and cultural understanding.
In Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji, however, much of that friction has been removed. Travel feels less like exploration and more like a guided experience hosted in dormitory-style accommodations. It’s effortless — show up, and your path is mapped for you.
But travel, at its core, is about meaningful engagement: connecting with people, tasting local food, learning customs, and sharing moments — like laughing with locals over drinks while picking up slang and colloquial expressions.
It’s not defined by boarding a bus, checking into a hostel, and joining a pre-scheduled tour followed by a night at a hostel bar. It’s not about perpetual safety in numbers or constant hand-holding. At Route for Less, we believe travel is a catalyst for growth — a way to build resilience, deepen empathy, and forge genuine connections. Yet the more I witness travelers accepting passive, formulaic itineraries, the more I question whether that spirit remains central to how we travel today.
Is this really what travel is about?
I began my own journey at age 25. Youth isn’t an excuse for disengagement.
I suspect many travelers have grown accustomed to convenience — trading adventure for predictability, curiosity for comfort. It feels less like discovering the world and more like ticking items off a checklist.
Then again, maybe I’m simply nostalgic for an idealized version of travel that existed more in aspiration than reality.
Either way, I hope that deeper, more intentional approach gains wider traction.
Editor’s Note: This reflection isn’t meant to criticize how anyone chooses to travel. As emphasized throughout, all forms of travel hold value. What’s shared here is a desire to recenter curiosity, independence, and cultural openness — especially as backpacking evolves from grassroots adventure into a highly commercialized experience. Everyone’s journey is valid. Just remember: popularity doesn’t equal profundity.
