What I miss about travel during Covid-19

Hunkered Down on Maui: Reflections from a Halted Round-the-World Journey

The Day the World Paused

This Covid-19 virus has put a screeching halt to all travel worldwide, and not a single country has been exempt.

For us, the shit hit the fan in mid-March 2020 while we were exploring La Fortuna, Costa Rica. Instead of panicking and heading straight back to the mainland USA, Barbie and I elected to voluntarily self-quarantine for over three months in the beautiful Cloud Forest of Monteverde. But as our Costa Rican visas crept toward expiration, we had to make an executive decision on where to shift our isolation.

We were looking for a safe, warm, tropical climate surrounded by nature, wide-open green spaces, and easy access to empty white-sand beaches.

So, Maui is where we have been holed up since mid-July 2020. We felt this island in the middle of the Pacific was the safest place that met all our criteria—far away from the rampant problems and utter incompetency facing the mainland, but still technically within our home country. We plan to hunker down here for as long as it takes for the world to safely reopen.

Update (August 2021): We have been on Maui for a full year now, slowly adapting to the relaxed pace of island life. We fully expected to be back on the road by now, continuing our tracks around the globe. Unfortunately, with the Delta variant wave spreading rapidly and sparing no one, we’ve decided to stay put. It just doesn’t feel right to get back out there just yet.

What Do I Miss Most About the Road?

People ask me what I miss about not being on the road traveling the world.

The short answer? NOTHING. A real traveler cannot be stopped!

The honest answer? EVERYTHING.

I miss the grit of travel. I miss life as usual—the things I completely took for granted. I miss creeping around anonymously and getting lost in a crowd where nobody knows my name. I miss the research, the planning, and the butterflies-in-your-stomach anticipation of the unknown.

When I look back at 30 years of backpacking and flashpacking, it’s the raw, un-sanitized, human experiences I crave the most.

The Master List of Wanderlust

• Thailand: Getting that $6 full-body massage on Khao San Road, watching a random elephant walk down Sukhumvit Road in bumper-to-bumper Bangkok traffic, and checking out the famed ping pong shows.
• Australia: Grabbing a random shared snorkel that a stranger just used on a boat trip to the Great Barrier Reef, and crushing killer brunches at a crowded beachside cafe on the Gold Coast.
• Cambodia & Myanmar: Being jammed alongside fellow travelers on a sweaty, hot ferry en route to Koh Rong, and hearing the beautiful sounds of children playing at a school in Inle Lake.
• Vietnam: Getting lost in the labyrinth back alleyways of Hanoi, eating at random streetside vendors in the Mekong Delta, and that obligatory fruity welcome drink and icy-cold washcloth used to wipe gobs of sweat off my face upon checking into a Southeast Asian guesthouse.
• Mexico: Eating shoulder-to-shoulder with locals at a taco stand in Mexico City, slathering guacamole onto my arrachera taco from a shared bowl, and brushing up against strangers in the bustling markets of the Yucatán.
• Morocco: The communal experience of eating with my hands from a shared clay tagine pot in Marrakech, and wandering the maze of a jam-packed shopping medina in Fes.
• Europe: Drinking sangria in a bustling tapas bar in Seville, sharing a spliff with a stranger at a coffee shop in Amsterdam, using the shared bike systems in the Netherlands, and diving into the boisterous pub scene in Dublin.
• The Pacific Islands: Drinking kava with my lips pressed against a shared wooden bowl at a Fijian ceremony, and grabbing fresh-baked baguettes with my bare hands from the bin at the local supermarket in Mo’orea, French Polynesia.
• Home & Beyond: Being packed shoulder-to-shoulder with worshippers at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, getting deep into the steaming hot, sweaty Gospel tent at Jazz Fest in New Orleans, hitting the betting machines at Saratoga Racetrack with dirty fingers before eating popcorn, and the legendary Sunday, butt-naked, beach drum circle at sunset on Little Beach right here in Maui.

The Ultimate Freedom

More than anything, I miss waking up every single day in an unfamiliar place and realizing I can completely choose my own adventure.  I miss having no plan—waking up in the morning and having a day unfold that changes the entire trajectory of my life.

I miss the non-socially distanced camaraderie of global guesthouses, and the crew on a crowded snorkeling boat in Palawan carving up fresh fruit with their unwashed, bare hands.

Most of all, I miss the pounding in my ears when standing at a foreign border, anticipating the return of my passport from an immigration officer—and that sweet, sweet relief when they slide it back across the glass, stamp it, and say: “Enjoy your stay. NEXT!”

We’ll get back there. Until then, Maui isn’t a bad place to wait out the Covid shit storm.