What does it mean to travel?
We all love to travel—but do we really know what it means to travel? The United Nations World Tourism Organization defines travel as “the activity of travelers. A traveler is someone who moves between different geographic locations, for any purpose and any duration.” Yet, I found another definition that resonates more deeply with what I believe travel truly is. On their website, the Cheshire West and Chester Council say the following about Gypsies and Travellers: “When Gypsies and Travellers live in houses, their culture and heritage stays with them. You do not have to travel to be a Traveller.”
For me, the concept of travel is essential to my life. My parents moved to another state before I was born. I took my first airplane trip to meet family when I was only two months old. I grew up crossing a thousand kilometers to visit relatives. But are my sisters and parents—born in Rio de Janeiro and now living in another town—travelers in their city? For me, this kind of “vacation” wasn’t exactly travel. It was simply part of our family structure. Being apart most of the year and coming together occasionally to reinforce our bond was just normal. And it still is, now that I am an expatriate myself.
On the other hand, every time I eat a genuine curry—rich in flavor and tradition—I feel I’m walking through the small, busy alleys of Indian food markets. When watching a Korean drama, I see myself strolling along the Han River, the wind brushing against my hair, and the rain about to kiss my clothes as I watch the characters from a distance. When a friend shares photos of her vacation in Switzerland, I can almost smell the burning wood in a fireplace and taste the melting fondue inside a cozy Alpine tavern. I’ve never physically been to those places, yet they’ve made me travel countless times.
I grew up as an outsider and hated it—or at least I thought I did. Because when I had the chance, I chose to become an outsider again: moving to another country, then another city, and then another country. I realized the problem wasn’t being a stranger—it was the feeling of becoming ordinary in one place. To avoid that, I’ve always tried to go against the flow. Traveling became my way to break free—to place myself outside my box and to try to open others’ boxes, too. When you travel and choose a path different from the familiar yellow brick road, the world opens up for you.
I’ve understood that travel is not just moving between physical places. It’s something ancestral, something within us. It’s the path our predecessors carved out to give us the freedom to be wherever we are today. Travel is a tool that moves us—not just across borders but within ourselves, closer to others, and between our daily lives and the one we still dream of reaching.
As a travel journalist, this understanding changes everything I do. I don’t see travel as a checklist of destinations or Instagram posts but as a complex experience—emotional, cultural, and deeply human. My work is not just to tell others about places but to capture the intangible movement within people—the subtle transformations that happen when we connect with something unfamiliar or familiar in an unusual place. Whether I’m physically on the road or telling someone else’s journey, I carry this definition: travel is about what you carry within and what you choose to add to your soul’s baggage.
