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Telegraph
16 hours ago
- Telegraph
‘You lived on Lays crisps, sex and sambuca': Why the 1990s was the greatest decade for holidays
In 1999, I boarded an Alitalia flight to Bangkok with my friend Tanya, a copy of Lonely Planet's Southeast Asia on a Shoestring, and the password for my new Hotmail account. I remember the air thick with fumes from Marlboro Reds chain-smoked by Italian passengers, and being chatted up by a man in a shark's tooth necklace who invited us to a Koh Pha Ngan guest house co-owned by his 'cool friend' Jed. The summer before, I'd flown to Pisa to visit a friend on her year abroad while studying languages at Manchester University. Caroline, fuelled by cheap Chianti and cappuccinos, was sleeping her way through the lower ranks of the Italian military. On that trip, I was romanced by the son of a campsite owner near Siena, where I stayed in a €7 tent, attempting to erect it by using my wedge flip-flops to hammer in the pegs. Both experiences, I now see, were typical of the 1990s – the ultimate era of low-cost, carefree travel. European budget airlines such as easyJet and Ryanair had arrived, but hadn't yet become the penny-pinching outfits they are today. Thomas Cook, Teletext Holidays and Lunn Poly offered decent all-inclusive packages at bargain prices (£99 was typical for a week in Tenerife – including half-board accommodation and flights – in 1994, the equivalent of £240 today). Trailfinders' round-the-world package deals could get you from the UK to San Francisco, Sydney, Singapore and back again for £784 in 1998 (about £1,600 today). Noel Josephides, the travel industry veteran and head of Greek specialist Sunvil, agrees that the 1990s were a sweet spot for travel – after the liberalisation of European airspace, but before the arrival of swingeing air taxes and social media-driven overtourism. 'In the 1990s, you suddenly had quick access to destinations that were still untouched by mass tourism,' he says. 'Then, in the 2000s, came the free-for-all of volume tourism – and the party was already over.' Tim Riley worked for Trailfinders in the Nineties and now runs the insurance company True Traveller. Smoking flights aside, he says, life at 35,000 feet was a pleasure three decades ago. 'Seat selection was free, meals were served in economy as part of your fare, and very few carriers charged for checked baggage,' he explains. 'Best of all, we used travel agents who knew what they were doing, so you didn't have to navigate a dozen confusing websites.' 'The only search algorithm you needed for a great holiday was a high-street travel agent called Carol,' says Seamus McCauley of travel firm Holiday Extras. 'Everyone could just rock up and walk onto a plane without any proper planning or preparation – so there was no need for 'airport dads'.' 'I've got £20, where can I go?' Megan Lomax remembers phoning travel agents via ads in her local paper and saying: ' I've got £20 – where can I go? ' In 1992, the London-based web designer, now 56, ended up in Seville with her husband, Guy, 59, less than 24 hours after making the call. 'We arrived during the Easter processions,' she recalls. 'We had a map, another couple didn't, and we made friends on the spot – and are still close 30 years later.' Andrew Middleton, 66, from Hampshire, was a frequent business traveller in the Nineties and also recalls the ease of getting around. 'It wasn't unusual to catch an early flight, do a full day's work in an office in Europe, then return on an evening flight,' he says. 'There were also more perks to being a frequent flyer back then: I remember the higher quality of snacks in the business lounges – and once stepping off a flight from Paris carrying 12 bottles of champagne, thanks to being known by the cabin crew.' Lomax's experience of forming a lifelong friendship speaks to another hallmark of Nineties travel: human engagement. Without smartphones and translation apps, tourists had to rely on paper maps, ask locals for directions in halting Greek, and raise their gazes while dining – chance meetings that often led to holiday romances, marriages and even business opportunities. It was an era of printed documents, traveller's cheques, and capturing the moment for posterity – when you could be bothered to put down your smouldering ciggie – with a disposable camera or a roll of 35mm film. 'We had to stand on our own two feet' If we spoke to the locals more in the 1990s, we often neglected friends and family back home. I sent just two round-robin emails from internet cafés during a three-month trip to Thailand and Cambodia – and what pompous correspondence it was, full of overblown musings. Alexandra English, 45, from Reigate, took a round-the-world trip aged 19 in the late 1990s and also remembers being out of touch with her parents – an idea that's unconscionable to today's tethered parents and teens. 'I did have a mobile phone, but my shampoo leaked in my bag and it had died by the time I got to Australia,' she recalls. 'Nobody panicked – they just waited for me to turn up weeks later. I had to stand on my own two feet.' This being the 1990s, sometimes those freedoms curdled into – well – a little too much fun. It was the era of Loaded lads and ladettes, of sex-, sun- and sangria-fuelled Club 18-30 holidays, with tabloids full of lurid tales of young Britons heading overseas to booze and bonk. Club 18-30 ran sexually suggestive poster ads, created by Saatchi & Saatchi, with taglines like 'Beaver Espana' and 'Girls. Can we interest you in a package holiday?' (accompanied by a photo of a man in white boxer shorts). The Advertising Standards Authority banned them in 1995. Catherine Warrilow, 46, enjoyed holidays to Malia in Crete in the late 1990s. 'You picked the party town you wanted to go to, went to Thomas Cook and booked two weeks in the sun,' she says. 'It included your flights, a ropey apartment and transfers – and if you were a smoker, you'd book the back rows of the plane so you could chuff away. You lived on Lays crisps, romance and sambuca, and somehow managed to party all night, every night.' Martin Deeson, 58, one of the founding editors of Loaded magazine, recalls bad behaviour, flowing booze and free flight upgrades. 'The best blag of all was the one for Virgin Atlantic,' he says. 'Briefly, it was possible to check in through a secret door in the underground car park at Heathrow, through which you emerged directly into the upper class lounge.' Nostalgia aside, perhaps we should all ditch our devices, talk to the locals – and be a bit more, well, Nineties – as we travel this summer.
Times
a day ago
- Times
Six of the best backpacking routes across southeast Asia
Southeast Asia is still the ultimate destination for backpacking adventures. The region spans 11 countries, from Myanmar to the Philippines, and is a kaleidoscope of cultures, landscapes and flavours. Today it blends classic routes with modern-age comforts too, making it easier than ever to chase the big moments: think high-speed trains, eco-stays and better connectivity. Whether it's sunrise over Angkor, motorcycle rides through misty limestone mountains or late-night bowls of noodles in Bangkok's buzzing Chinatown, there are well-known sights and those you'll want to keep secret for yourself. To help you plan, we've mapped out six journeys that highlight the best of the region, plus options for group travel. Here are southeast Asia's best backpacking routes. This article contains affiliate links that will earn us revenue Recommended time two to three weeks First-timers can experience southeast Asia's highlights — rich nature, buzzing cities, epic beaches — in a journey between its top travel hubs, Bangkok and Singapore. In Bangkok, visit the sprawling Chatuchak weekend market, sip cocktails at BKK Social Club — one of the city's best bars but with a price tag to match — and feast on Michelin-starred street food at Jay Fai. Then head to the island of Phuket, a 1.5-hour flight or 12-hour bus ride away. For extra room, book the 24-seat VIP sleeper buses that depart from Bangkok's Southern Bus Terminal in the Taling Chan district. Five days affords enough time to explore the city of Phuket, where colourful 19th-century buildings house boutique hotels, hostels, lively bars and cafés, and places to try dim sum. Although most come to idle on some of the province's thirty or so beaches, including seven-mile Mai Khao right next to the airport. Take a flight or overnight bus to Penang across the border in Malaysia and wander around the Unesco site of George Town. Gorgeous Sino-Portuguese architecture sits next to Buddhist shrines, Hindu temples and mosques, while hawker centres serve everything from Hokkien noodles to nasi lemak (Malay-style coconut rice with sides) and roti canai (flaky Indian flatbread served with curry). Head to your next stop, Kuala Lumpur, by train. Malaysia's efficient railway network is among the region's best, and you'll reach the capital in about four hours. Spend a few days here to eyeball the Petronas Twin Towers, visit the Islamic Arts Museum and explore the Batu Caves, a Hindu pilgrimage site known for its large statue of Murugan, god of war. Venturing two hours south to the city of Malacca allows you to explore another Unesco site, which showcases its British, Dutch and Portuguese influences in windmills, forts, shophouses and fusion dishes such as Portuguese-style devil's curry. End your adventure in Singapore, but beware the backpacker budget may go out the window here if you're not careful. Hostels are more expensive and the city is known for its luxury hotels and Michelin-starred restaurants; instead head to the hawker centres for the best no-frills food. Look for the stalls with the longest queues and it's hard to go wrong. Intrepid Travel's 15-day Bangkok to Singapore tour takes groups of up to 12 adventurers on a similar itinerary. But, instead of Phuket, you'll spend two days in Khao Sok National Park, exploring vast caves and one of Earth's oldest rainforests; then two more in Krabi at the resort town of Ao Nang, sea kayaking and wildlife spotting, with free time for beachcombing or rock climbing. • Best hotels in Bangkok• Best affordable hotels in Singapore Recommended time one to two weeks Get off the beaten track in northern Vietnam's remote Ha Giang province. This road trip — a loop between the districts of Dong Van and Meo Vac — is revered for dizzying mountain passes, jaw-dropping limestone karst and deep cultural experiences. Travellers typically rent a motorcycle and enlist the services of a local guide in the laidback provincial capital of Ha Giang, then spend three to four days navigating roads that curve through quiet villages and rice-terraced hillsides near the Chinese border. Homestays with H'mong, Tay or Dao families offer a brief and unforgettable immersion into highland life, while the route itself delivers major highlights: the rolling peaks of the Dong Van Karst Plateau, the vertigo-inducing Ma Pi Leng Pass and the Lung Cu Flag Tower marking Vietnam's northernmost point. The ride usually ends back in Ha Giang, where regular night buses return to Hanoi. But the journey can be continued with a few easy detours. Keep riding or take the bus to Cao Bang, where the tiered, turquoise Ban Gioc waterfall crashes across the border into China — and where Nui Thung Mountain (Angel Eye Mountain) defies logic with a hole right through its middle. Then visit Ba Be National Park for a break among limestone cliffs and the jungle-fringed Ba Be Lake. This is another incredible place to explore the region's diversity. Tay, Dao, Kinh and H'mong communities all live around the lake, and many villages offer homestays. When it's time to end the tour, take the bus to Hanoi and indulge in cups of ca phe trung (the city's signature egg coffee) and drinks at the growing number of cocktail bars. Contiki is your best bet for partly replicating the above itinerary courtesy of its Ha Giang Loop — a five-day circuit offered as an extension to longer Vietnam tours. Participants trek to the Ma Pi Leng Pass, cruise along one of Asia's largest canyons, discover local culture in Dong Van and overnight in humble homestays. • Best hotels in Hanoi Recommended time three to four weeks Most travellers start in Bangkok, but Thailand's underrated second city, Chiang Mai, can captivate you for weeks. The former Lanna kingdom capital has teak temples such as Wat Phra Singh, mellow Burmese-influenced dishes like khao soi (yellow curry with egg noodles) and vibrant areas with snacks, shopping, street-side massages, music and more. The city also serves as a gateway for adventure travel, offering treks to Karen and H'mong villages, plus thundering waterfalls like the 280m-high Mae Ya. For an extended trip, take a minivan to Chiang Rai province, about four hours north, and explore its diverse attractions: blissful eco-lodges, national parks, the blue and white temples Wat Rong Suea Ten and Wat Rong Khun, and the Choui Fong tea fields in Mae Chan. Consider the overnight slow boat from the Thai border town Chiang Khong to Luang Prabang, Laos's imperial capital. This one-of-a-kind journey rumbles along the Mekong, past dense jungles, offering snapshots of rural life you won't find elsewhere. Otherwise, Chiang Mai airport offers direct flights to Luang Prabang. Unwind in Laos's cultural capital, immersing yourself in the city's numerous temples, the turquoise Kuang Si waterfall, the dawn tak bat (alms-giving ritual) and a Lao massage. For about £15, a modern high-speed train takes you to Vang Vieng in an hour. This revamped backpacker hub is now Laos's outdoor adventure hub, primed for bike roads and treks around the stunning limestone karst formations. Take the train once more to the capital, Vientiane. After exploring the Patuxai war monument — Laos's answer to the Arc de Triomphe — head to the riverside for larb (minced meat salad) with a cold Lao beer. With travel restrictions in place at the Thai-Cambodian border, heading south by bus is out, so instead fly to Phnom Penh. The Cambodian capital has cruises along the Mekong, hip bistros and buzzing markets to explore. You should also allow time for its Tuol Sleng and Killing Fields museums related to the Khmer Rouge genocide. End your tour in Siem Reap, where impressive temples await. Nothing tops watching the sunrise over Angkor Wat. Contiki, which has an age limit of 35, operates a 16-day tour that starts in Bangkok before heading north to Chiang Mai and onto Chiang Rai's temples. Entering Laos, you'll cruise along the Mekong to Luang Prabang to meet monks before taking the train towards Vang Vieng and Vientiane. A flight to Phnom Penh follows, and a full day at Angkor offers a fitting finale. • Best places to visit in Thailand• Best things to do in Thailand• Is it safe to travel to Thailand and Cambodia? Recommended time two weeks Journeys to Borneo tend to start in one of two places: Jakarta or Singapore. While the Indonesian capital has its charms, Singapore's transport infrastructure (including Changi, frequently ranked the best airport in the world) makes it the easier choice. From here, fly to Kota Kinabalu to hike up 4,095m (13,435ft) Mount Kinabalu for sunrise, then join a tour to see orangutans in the jungle. If time is limited, go to the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre instead. After a one-stop flight to Bali, spend a week exploring the Island of the Gods. Bali is well-trodden, but you can still find places away from the crowds. For example, skip overrun Kuta and Seminyak in favour of the brilliant white-sand beaches of Bingin or blissful Nunggalan in Uluwatu. Take a day trip to Nusa Penida island to hike, dive or lounge in the sand, or head to the backpacker hub Ubud, where you'll find plenty of others who want to join you in a visit to the Tegallalang rice terraces and Tirta Empul, the sacred water temple. If you have more time, take the ferry to the car-free Gili Islands, which are prime spots to snorkel and encounter sea turtles, or neighbouring Lombok, a larger island known for its pink beach and hikes around Mount Rinjani, an active volcano. Of the three stunning Gili Islands, Gili Trawangan has a lively party scene, while Gili Air and Gili Meno are much quieter. Group tours almost never combine Bali with Borneo, so it may mean booking two separate packages. For the Indonesia leg, Intrepid's Jakarta to Ubud itinerary spends two weeks crossing Indonesia; instead of Kinabalu you'll hike up Mount Bromo at sunrise, while, in lieu of orang-utans, the Seloliman Nature Reserve delivers jungle and photogenic rice terraces below a sacred volcano. Some beach time rounds things off nicely. • Best hotels in Bali• Best hostels in Bali Recommended time two weeks For intrepid travellers, tackling Vietnam on two wheels is a rite of passage. But those who don't want to drive motorcycles on the country's challenging roads can do the same journey via the Reunification Express, the train linking Ho Chi Minh City with Hanoi. After slurping pho and visiting markets and museums in frenetic Ho Chi Minh City, travel to Dalat, the cool highland escape encircled by pine forests, lakes and waterfalls. Visit Vietnam's beachy Nha Trang for two days of R&R, then hunker down in Hoi An. The Unesco site enchants travellers with its boutique shops, cooking classes and cultural shows — try to visit during the full moon, when lanterns light up the town and local people stage traditional performances on the river. Nearby Danang might be less majestic, but the rapidly developing city is also a great base, thanks to its abundance of hostels and hotels, beaches, amazing street food scene and craft breweries. Step into the past in Hue, where Nguyen dynasty emperors once ruled. Although Hue suffered significant damage during the war, the imperial city has been carefully restored. Then finish in Hanoi, where centuries-old architecture lines the capital's lanes. Do as the locals: settle into tiny plastic stools for bun cha (grilled pork balls with noodles) and bia hoi, the beloved — and staggeringly cheap — fresh beer. Budget extra (from £30 to £100 per person depending how fancy you want to go) to spend a night on a junk boat among the karst in Ha Long Bay too. Note though that the bucket-list site has been plagued with rubbish for several years; a rowing boat trip in Tam Coc has become a popular alternative for its equally splendid landscapes minus the floating heaps of plastic. For anyone aged 18-39, G Adventures' 18-to-Thirtysomethings range of tours includes a 12-day trip from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi. Riding buses and overnight trains, you'll visit both Nha Trang, Danang and Hue before a drive through Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park's lush mountains and a cruise around spectacular Halong Bay in a traditional sailboat. • Best things to do in Vietnam• Best hotels in Vietnam Recommended time one to two weeks Manila, the capital of the Philippines, is your starting point for this island-hopping adventure. Skip the city's chaotic traffic and make straight for the beach with a one-hour domestic flight to Coron. This island is full of postcard-worthy scenery: limestone cliffs tower above electric-blue waters in Twin Lagoon and sugary sands line Banol beach, where rustic huts hang over the water. Next is El Nido, at the tip of Palawan island, via a four-hour ferry ride from Coron. To explore El Nido, it's mandatory to book one of four island-hopping excursions, labelled A, B, C and D. The most popular, tours A and C, take you to lagoons and hidden beaches, including the can't-miss Big Lagoon and Helicopter Island. Book in advance through a reputable tour operator such as Discover El Nido or Hello El Nido. While you can book these tours privately, group trips are great ways to meet other travellers. Take a bus four hours south to Puerto Princesa and fly to Bohol. The jungle-covered island is best known for its Chocolate Hills — thousands of grassy hills, scattered across 20 sq miles of land, that turn brown in the dry season. Budget five days here to go cliff-diving into turquoise pools with Kawasan Canyoneering; spot the tiny tarsiers at the island sanctuary; and unwind on Panglao, an island with white-sand beaches linked to Bohol by a bridge. If there's time to spare, take the two-hour ferry from Bohol to Siquijor. Meet the island healers who cast off evil spirits with their bolo-bolo rituals, cool down in emerald Cambugahay Falls or explore the 23 coral reef dive sites, before taking one of the regular ferries to Dumaguete City on Negros — a 50-minute trip — and flying back to Manila. As El Nido and Bohol are 300 miles apart, most tours focus on one or the other. Contiki's Ultimate Philippines Island Hopping With Boat Expedition fits in both during a 22-day epic, however, with time for home-cooked meals and floating along an underground river. It concludes with four camping-based nights enabling visits to 15 remote, idyllic islands. • Best beaches in the Philippines Any we've missed? Let us know in the comments
Times
2 days ago
- Politics
- Times
Air con has become a political hot potato
I've just come back from Vietnam, where it was hot. So hot. Running through my head, often, I'd hear Robin Williams's monologue from Good Morning, Vietnam — which, of course, I watched while there — in which he channels a grunt in the jungle giving a weather report, saying, 'It's hot! Damn hot!' and musing that he could cook a meal in the crotch of his own shorts. 'Fool, I told you again! It's hot! Were you born on the sun?' In those conditions, you venture out like a moon explorer, boldly embarking on missions to temples and markets, before returning gratefully to the blessing of ubiquitous, essential, air conditioning. It's funny, but they didn't have much air con when I backpacked around Asia in my twenties. I kept telling my kids that, probably quite smugly and boringly. Before, obviously, turning it on. Back home, it is also hot. Less hot, but still. Is this our third heatwave of 2025, or our fourth? Or fifth? I forget. In France, it has been far hotter. On Wednesday, it was 33C in Paris, and that was relatively low. In Nîmes it was 43C, up there with the Middle East. In France, air con is now a huge political fight. Earlier this summer, Marine Le Pen announced a 'major air-conditioning equipment plan' if her party ever takes power. In response, her opponents on the left have deemed air conditioning not just pathetic and environmentally dangerous but also fundamentally un-French, like, I suppose, toasters or toilets that have seats. It fell to the French environment minister to point out that more air con means more energy use, which means more global warming, which means more heatwaves. 'The government wants ordinary people to suffer the heat while the so-called French elites benefit from air conditioning,' retorted Le Pen; a silly populist response rendered somehow all the more maddening for being absolutely true. As an environmentalist, I know which side of this fight I ought to be on. You might have spotted, though, that I'm the sort of environmentalist who just flew back from a family holiday in Vietnam. My point being, it's best to be honest. Instinctively, I suppose I do still nurse a prejudice that air con is one of those weird things Americans do, like saying 'aluminum' and putting too much ice in drinks. Few things irritate me more than its growing and pointless ubiquity in British hotels, especially when they nail the windows shut. But would I live in Florida without it? Would you? What's more, I'm naggingly aware that I'm writing this very column in a nice, air-conditioned office, having decided I didn't much fancy a sweaty afternoon at home. Le Pen would have me bang to rights. • France swelters without air conditioning as chilling out gets political What this means, depressingly, is that the environmental left's denunciation of air con is two things at once: utterly correct and entirely deranged. You can't possibly tell hot people that they're not allowed to cool down because, if you do, first they'll laugh at you, then they'll hate you, and then they'll ignore you anyway. Just like, when push comes to shove, you're probably ignoring yourself. Hardly anybody wants to properly champion environmental politics these days. Even the Greens are happier talking about Gaza. Really, it's just Ed Miliband, and I'm sure he does it mainly out of masochism. And yet, despite this, undeniably, we live at a time when climate change is no longer some distant future fear but an actual, identifiable phenomenon we are living through, right are wildfires not only in southern Europe, but also in Edinburgh. There have been weeks of 30-degree weather even in Norway. This week has brought record temperatures to Croatia, Hungary and Canada. I mentioned earlier that parts of France were now more like the Middle East. To clarify, I meant the old Middle East, not the new one, because that's even worse. In the Jordan Valley next week, they're expecting it to hit 50C. Yes, I know there was a heatwave in 1976 but the hottest ten years on record have all happened in the past decade. The sceptics told us it wouldn't happen. But it is happening, right now. Once, I suppose, the environmentalist hope was that all of this would eventually bring an epiphany, shocking people and governments into drastic action. In reality, though, the first instinct wins out, and that instinct is to cope. Today, about 90 per cent of American homes have air con, set against about 25 per cent of French homes and a mere 5-ish per cent of British ones. Absolutely, there's an environmental cost to this, as seen in the way that their energy usage is far greater than our own. Yet, will this discrepancy remain should 30-degree plus summers become a European norm? Will we all volunteer, for the future sake of the planet, to live in the crotch of Robin Williams's sweaty shorts? Come on. • Heatwaves can make you hot-tempered As it happens, the British politician who may end up doing the most to spread air con in British homes is Miliband himself. In July in parliament, he announced that his department was consulting on expanding existing boiler-replacement grants to include air-to-air heat pumps, which, effectively, are air conditioners, capable of blowing cold as well as hot. In other words, it may well be the ungreen desire to keep cool that makes our home heating as green as it is ever going to be. Either way, there's a lesson here. Nobody wants to wear a hair shirt when it's frankly too hot to wear any shirt. Having been unelectably right all along, environmentalists should be wary of letting the very circumstances they were warning about make them unelectably wrong. Pretty soon, certainly in France, and perhaps here too, a moral argument against air con will begin to sound every bit as absurd as one against central heating. I'm sorry, but there's just no fighting this. Chill out.
Washington Post
05-08-2025
- Washington Post
American climate journalist missing in Norwegian national park
A search operation was launched Monday for American climate journalist Alec Luhn, who set out last week on a four-day solo backpacking trip in southern Norway's Folgefonna National Park, home to one of the country's largest glaciers. Luhn was last seen when he began his hike Thursday afternoon, said his wife, journalist Veronika Silchenko. She reported him missing when he didn't return as planned from the trip.
Independent Singapore
04-08-2025
- Independent Singapore
Singaporeans travel the world — but why always the same places and never backpack?
SINGAPORE: If you've ever had a conversation with a fellow Singaporean about travel, in all likelihood, you've heard some familiar destination names such as Bangkok, Tokyo, Seoul, and London. Whether it's a quick retreat or a long-anticipated holiday, several Singaporeans tend to settle toward the same lineup of tourist spots. Why is that? Why can't they take a new direction and discover the lesser-known corners of the world? An inquisitive vacationer posed this question in a Reddit post that triggered an animated discussion: 'Why do Singaporeans always travel to the same places? Why don't more Singaporeans explore off-the-beaten-path destinations?' The original poster noted how even within popular countries, Singaporeans usually stick to the bigger capitals. For example, in Thailand, it's frequently Bangkok, Phuket, or Chiang Mai, notwithstanding the country's many other exciting but lesser-known destinations. The poster also shared his experiences backpacking across Southeast Asia and Europe, staying in inns and hotels, and meeting people from all walks of life from all over the world—except Singaporeans. 'I've stayed in about 20 hostels,' he wrote, 'but never once met a fellow Singaporean. Why don't more of us backpack?' See also Are voters from Blue states running away to Red states in droves? The post not only resounded with some but also rubbed the wrong way with others, instigating a torrent of responses that offered a deeper understanding of Singapore's travel psyche. Many Redditors joined in to protect the customary travel patterns. For many, it's basically about relaxation and well-being, not everyone views travel as a quest or an escapade to rough it out. 'I like my luxuries when I travel,' wrote one commenter. 'I love culture, arts and music, and I travel for architecture, concerts, and galleries. Backpacking is not for me—I'm not an extrovert and I don't enjoy meeting too many strangers.' Another clarified: 'When I travel, the last thing I want to do is scrimp. I want a family-friendly, relaxing holiday. I don't want to deal with complex planning or worrying about safety.' With a limited number of vacation days, most Singaporeans choose destinations that are easier to reach and where planning for the trip is not complicated. One of the most convincing refutations came from a Redditor who contended that daring Singaporeans do exist, just maybe not in inns and hotels. 'You just didn't meet them,' she wrote. 'I know Singaporeans who have travelled to Bhutan, Ulaanbaatar, Colorado to ride horses, road-tripped across the USA, explored South America, and wandered into small Himalayan towns. They're not full-time nomads. They're just everyday people.' See also No, Kesha does not deserve a Grammy Backpacking, with its dormitory cots and shared bathrooms, simply isn't everyone's cup of coffee. Many Singaporeans may have done it in their younger years—fresh from the gates of the university, not much budget, high on the desire to travel. But once maturity and careers kick in, so does the fondness for more relaxed choices. The absence of Singaporeans in backpacking hostels doesn't mean they're not exploring—it just means they're doing it differently. The debate eventually came down to a larger, deeper truth — there's no 'correct' way to travel. Whether one is staying in a five-star resort in Bali, on a solo road trip through Patagonia, or in a hostel in Budapest, people travel for various motives—discovery, relaxation, connection, escape, or even bragging rights, but that's for them to decide, their call to make. As one commenter put it frankly: 'Everyone is different, so I don't see why you should care how others travel.' So, do Singaporeans only visit the same places? Statistically, yes—most outbound trips are to nearby, well-trodden locations, but that doesn't mean Singaporeans don't explore. You just might not meet them in hostels or read about them in Instagram stories, but they're definitely out there, quietly plotting their paths. And maybe that's the most Singaporean thing of all: pragmatic, low-key, and doing things on their own terms.
