On Tuesday, I turned 30. I celebrated my birthday on the road through Queen Elizabeth National Park in Uganda. As I’ve been spending a lot of time on buses staring out the window at the East African savanna, I’ve been reflecting on my first 30 years of travel. So I put together this list of 30 before 30 travel bucket list experiences that I’ve had.
These aren’t the top things you need to see around the world before you turn 30. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to travel widely over the last 10+ years, but I’m not a country counter, and many places I’ve visited never appear on this list. Instead, these are the moments that have stuck with me the most — some of them big, most of them small. Take a deep breath — this is a long post — but I hope it will inspire you to plan your own adventures, no matter your age.
(Also, sorry for some of the bad photos — I decided to err on the side of authenticity by scrapping the stock photos in favor of photos from when my camera was a tiny Canon point-and-shoot.)
Note: This post contains affiliate links. If you decide to purchase through these links, I receive a percentage of the sale at no additional cost to you, which helps me keep this site up and running.
30. Reaching the summit of Volcan Maderas in a wind- and rainstorm
Ometepe Island in Nicaragua forms one of Central America’s most iconic landscapes. The island was formed by two volcanoes — Concepcion and Maderas. So naturally, when I visited, I had to climb at least one of them. Volcan Maderas is the smaller of the two, but it’s the easier hike and was much more convenient to my guesthouse. So I booked a guide for the 10-hour slog through the mud.
The hike started out as a moderately difficult uphill slope past ancient petroglyphs and pretty waterfalls. But around three hours in, it transformed into “drag yourself up through two-inch-deep mud by clinging to roots and rocks.” We were in the cloud forest, where it started raining. By the time we reached the upper slopes of the mountain the only way to continue was on our hands and knees across the rocks. We passed a number of groups who had turned back before the summit — only about 50% of groups make it all the way.
Finally — after nearly seven hours of climbing up one of the steepest trails I’ve ever seen — we reached the summit. It was pouring rain and the wind was howling. We couldn’t see more than three feet ahead as we ventured along the narrow pathway between the edge of the mountain and the crater.
We may not have gotten much of a view, and I may have ended up completely covered in mud and with bruises all over my knees, but nothing beats that sense of accomplishment of summiting one of the most difficult mountains you’ve ever climbed.
How to cross Volcan Maderas off your 30 before 30 bucket list
The first step to climbing Volcan Maderas is to get to Ometepe Island in Nicaragua. It’s a short ferry ride from San Jorge, three hours south of Managua near San Juan del Sur. Then you’ll need to book a taxi or take the once-daily chicken bus across the island to reach the town of Merida.
Guides are mandatory for all hikes on Ometepe. They cost $15 per group — groups can be up to three people. Most guides only speak Spanish. Your guesthouse can hook you up with one.
Take lots of water — at least 2 liters — and a packed lunch from your guesthouse. You need proper hiking boots for this hike. Quick-drying clothes and a rain jacket would be ideal.
Don’t wait to visit Ometepe Island if it’s on your 30 before 30 list. It’s under threat from a canal construction project.
29. Breaking fast during Ramadan with a Moroccan family
I’ll admit it — my trip to Morocco was largely a disaster. My college roommate and I took the ferry over from Spain with no plan. We hadn’t even researched how to get into central Tangier from the ferry terminal.
By the time we rolled into Fez a few days later, we were already at the end of our ropes. Bad directions from the train station’s tourist information office didn’t help. We spent three hours wandering around looking for a budget hotel. Eventually we found a shop where a friendly old man sold us a couple of maps and some cold drinks — things were looking up.
We made our way into the Medina right around sunset. If you’ve been in a Muslim country during Ramadan, you know that the streets are really quiet during the day — but in the evenings people come out to do their shopping and socializing. It was total chaos, and we were exhausted, so when a fixer approached us and said he could take us to a hotel we took him up on his offer.
After showing us a few places out of our budgets, the fixer finally took us to a little hole-in-the-wall right on the edge of the New Medina. The room price was still a little high, but he offered to throw in “breakfast.” So we said okay.
Well it turns out by “breakfast,” he meant “break fast” — as in, the evening meal during Ramadan. Each night we were invited to eat with the owner, Mohamed, and his whole family. There were warm fuul-like bean dishes, grilled meat, figs, spicy pepper blends, limitless bread, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. The only way to send the message that you were full was to stand up and wash your hands before someone could give you another wheel of bread!
Plus, we got to experience a once-in-a-lifetime connection with Mohamed and his family. True, I never saw another woman leave the kitchen the whole time we were there. And only Mohamed spoke English. But we still laughed together and shared stories (translated by Mohamed) for three straight nights.
How to cross experiencing Arabic hospitality off your 30 before 30 list
I wish I could tell you exactly how to get to Mohamed’s hotel, and what to say to ensure you could have a similar experience. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the hotel and could barely give you directions. All I can say is it was about a ten-minute walk on the main road from the Royal Palace, on the way to the Blue Gate, overlooking the gardens, down a small alley. Sorry, I know that isn’t very helpful.
However, I firmly believe that you could experience similar hospitality in just about any Arab country around the world. It’s as simple as turning up somewhere and talking to local folks. It won’t be long before you’re invited for a meal or tea in someone’s home.
Your 30 before 30 list could also include traveling to a Muslim country during Ramadan. There are pros and cons — lots of shops are closed during the day and you may encounter occasional hostility if you choose to eat or drink — but it’s totally unlike traveling in the Islamic world at any other time. Look up the Ramadan calendar here.
28. Riding a bicycle to the world’s most beautiful beaches in Tulum
It’s no secret that Mexico is my absolute favorite country in the world. I can’t get enough of the cultural legacy of the Mayans and the Aztecs, the wealth of incredible museums, the colorful and political art, the gorgeous cities…
And, of course, the beaches. I know there are naysayers out there, people who claim that Instagram has destroyed it, but I still think Tulum has the most perfect beaches anywhere on the planet.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never actually brought my camera. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t care less about paying $25 for a couple drinks just to get a photo on some famous swings — I’m happy to just chill with a book on the public beaches. Or maybe it’s just because I truly believe it’s impossible to be unhappy when you’re both in Mexico and at the beach. You can’t convince me Tulum doesn’t belong on a 30 before 30 travel bucket list.
Perhaps my favorite part of visiting Tulum is that you get two experiences in one. You can stay in town, where you’ll find authentic taco joints where you can grab dinner for $3 and locals who don’t mind rubbing shoulders with backpackers. But then you can cycle along the flat coastal road to reach the beaches and the Mayan ruins for the day.
Coasting along a bike path with the wind in your hair, sea at your side, and warm tropical sun on your shoulders? That’s my idea of the perfect vacation.
How to cross Tulum off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Tulum is just two hours from the airport in Cancun — but feels a world away. You can take a public bus straight from the airport for around $15 USD.
Stay in town for a range of budget-friendly accommodation. I love Mama’s Home and Rancho Tranquilo. You can rent bikes for around $5 a day and pedal to the beach — the public beaches start near the restaurant Mezzanine.
And while you’re at it, why not extend your trip to include more of the Riviera Maya? Or check out Chichen Itza? Tulum is a great base for the rest of the region.
27. Seeing Monet’s Water Lilies in Paris
Paris is on many a 30 before 30 bucket list. And with good reason. It’s a treasure trove of art, architecture, culture, and food. So when I saw $300 round-trip plane tickets to Paris over a long weekend, I had to snatch them up.
I had a few key museums on my list. I knew I wanted to visit the Louvre, and I thought Musée D’Orsay would be pretty great too. Ultimately I decided to purchase a Paris Museum Pass in case I wanted to visit any of the smaller museums.
On my third morning, I trekked all the way from my cheap hotel in an outlying neighborhood to Tuileries Garden so that I could try the legendary hot chocolate at Angelina’s. My plan had been to get a hot chocolate, have lunch, and then walk to the Arc de Triomphe. But after drinking an entire mug of thick sugary deliciousness with another mug of whipped cream on the side, I wasn’t hungry. So I decided to kill some time by popping into the Musée de l’Orangerie — famous for its purpose-built oval-shaped room housing Claude Monet’s Water Lilies.
Now I’m not actually a huge art fanatic. I wanted to go to the other Parisian art museums as much for the architecture as for the masterpieces inside. When I do visit art museums, I tend to prefer modern art and heavily political works.
But for whatever reason, Monet’s paintings totally floored me. I spent nearly two hours gazing at them. I couldn’t even tell you why. But for whatever reason, the museum I wasn’t even planning to visit in Paris ended up being my favorite museum in all of Europe.
How to cross Monet’s Water Lilies off your 30 before 30 list
If you’re visiting Paris, it’s easy to add the Musée de l’Orangerie to your itinerary. It’s conveniently located in the middle of the Tuileries Gardens.
The museum has only four rooms — a temporary and permanent exhibition space in the basement, and the two rooms containing the Water Lilies paintings on the first floor. It also has a cafe, but you’re better off going to Angelina’s, which is only a ten-minute walk away.
Admission to the Musée de l’Orangerie is €9, and it’s covered by the Paris Museum Pass. I visited in February, when crowds and lines weren’t a problem anywhere in the city, but the Musée de l’Orangerie is much less crowded than the bigger museums in general.
26. Sipping a “white coffee” at a traditional kedai kopi in Penang
Penang Island in Malaysia is one of the world’s most fascinating cultural melting pots. It’s part-Malay, part-British colonial, part-Chinese, and a little bit Indian — mixed with backpackers and tourists from all over the world.
Nowhere is this melting pot more evident than in Penang’s unique foodie culture. You can start your day with a roti canai at an Indian street stall, snack on traditional Malay sweets from the market, have lunch at a Chinese noodle soup shop, go to happy hour at a high-end beach bar, and have dinner at a hawker stall.
But visiting Penang isn’t just about stuffing your face with all these delicious options. It’s about soaking up the vibe of the island’s unique culture. That’s why my best memory of Penang is sitting in a traditional kedai kopi — or Chinese-style coffee shop.
I’d been exploring Chinatown and the kongsi’s (traditional clan houses) for a few hours when a torrential downpour rolled in. So I beat a path for the nearest place with a roof, which happened to be this little hole-in-the-wall cafe. I ordered a “white coffee” sweetened with palm sugar, and sat at one of the communal tables with a couple old men playing checkers. The people-watching was great, I got to sample a new beverage, I chatted with a few folks who sat at my table, and it all cost me less than 2 ringgits ($0.66).
How to cross Penang’s foodie culture off your 30 before 30 bucket list
You can get to Penang from pretty much anywhere in Southeast Asia — it now has a sizable airport. Flights run from regional hubs, and major 5-star carriers like Qatar Airways fly there too.
If you’re already in Malaysia, simply hop on a bus to Butterworth and take the (usually included with your bus ticket) ferry over to Penang. Most backpackers stay in the biggest city on the island, called Georgetown. You could also head straight for the beaches further from the ferry jetty.
When it comes to the best places to eat, just follow your eyes and nose! Definitely visit the night markets. Toh Soon Cafe is a classic breakfast joint, and Kapitan’s is my personal favorite Indian restaurant in the world. Little India has cheap meals and snacks in the mornings, while Chinatown is where you’ll find traditional coffee shops and noodle stalls. You really can’t go wrong as long as you choose busy places!
25. Getting a boozy backpacker haircut in Veliko Trnovo, Bulgaria
Long-term travelers often talk about places where they got “stuck” — where they planned to stay for a day or two, but ended up there much longer. For most people, it’s a beach town. Maybe a few people end up in big cities.
Me? I stayed for nearly two weeks in a little town in the mountains in Central Bulgaria that no one outside of Eastern Europe has ever heard of.
I arrived in Veliko Trnovo expecting to stay two nights. But I immediately fell in love with my hostel — the incredible Hostel Mostel. Free dinners, free breakfasts, free beer, a great common area, and the best staff in the world? Yes please!
The hostel’s communal atmosphere meant I made instant friends with a fantastic travel group. After we spent a few days exploring the waterfalls and villages nearby, we were hanging out over beers one evening when we somehow decided to pass the time by cutting my hair.
Cue the purchase of a few more bottles of beer and wine, the acquisition of some scissors from the staff, and the takeover of the dining area. Approximately three hours (and lots of laughter) later, I had a hot mess of a haircut (which was good enough for backpacking) and travel friends I’ll never forget.
How to cross finding amazing travel buddies off your 30 before 30 list
Okay, I’m kind of assuming you don’t want to know how to get a bunch of drunk ladies in a hostel to chop 8 inches off your hair at midnight. (Understandable.) But this experience isn’t on my list because I loved the haircut, it’s here because travel friends are so incredible.
Honestly, the best way to form close travel friendships is to travel alone. Not only will you seem more approachable to others, but you’ll also be more inclined to make the effort to get out of your comfort zone and talk to strangers.
I’ve found hostels to be the best places to form travel groups. You don’t have to stay in massive dorm rooms — most hostels have private rooms that are just as nice as mid-range hotels. Other ways to meet people include on public transportation (sit with the other backpacker on the bus and say hi), free walking tours, or group activities.
You don’t have to force friendships that don’t “click” — I still travel completely alone about 75% of the time — but when you find those great travel groups, you’ll make friends for life.
24. Watching a traditional Andean band in a rowdy bar on La Ronda
My first trip to South America began in whirlwind fashion. I arrived in Quito, Ecuador just after dark. Somehow I was whisked from an airport bus to a public bus to a tram to the city center with very little idea of where I was actually going — just following the advice of the dozens of locals who stopped to help me.
I checked into my guesthouse around 9 pm. I hadn’t eaten all day, so I asked where I could grab some food. The staff pointed me to the nearby street known as La Ronda — which also just happened to have a massive street party going on, as it does every Friday and Saturday night.
Despite being exhausted from a long travel day and completely starving, I spent half an hour walking up and down the busy street. People were dancing in Amazonian costumes. Music was playing from all the bars and restaurants. And everyone was offering me canelazo, a warm sugarcane-alcohol drink mixed with naranjillo juice.
I finally found a bar that looked appealing, so I went in and ordered a drink and a locro de papa (potato soup). A few minutes later the band came on. For the next two hours, I listened to the traditional windpipes, guitars, and singing of Andean South America. Locals got up to dance along. I was the only tourist around. What a way to begin a trip to Ecuador.
How to cross the La Ronda street party off your 30 before 30 list
La Ronda is a mile-long stretch of road at the bottom of the hill in Quito’s Old Town. During the day, it’s a quiet street with lots of art galleries. But it comes to life on Friday and Saturday nights starting around 7 pm. The party lasts until about 2 am.
None of the restaurants or bars charge covers for live music, but quality varies widely. Walk around for awhile and choose the place with the best vibe. You can also find more formal music and dance performances for a small fee (around $5).
I highly, highly recommend staying at La Posada Colonial if you want to get the full La Ronda experience. It’s just two blocks away from the action, on a well-lit road, with good security. That means you can stay out late and still get home safely. Quito does not have the best safety reputation overall, so if you stay further afield, take a cab back.
23. Getting WAY out of my comfort zone in Bakhchisaray, Ukraine
I’ve been to a lot of places that terrify my friends and family — like Egypt during the revolution, Ethiopia, the Colombian jungle, and Honduras. But none of those were as scary as a little-visited corner of Europe — the Crimean peninsula in Ukraine.
I decided to visit Crimea on a whim. I overheard the owner of my hostel in Odessa encouraging a Russian-speaking backpacker at my guesthouse to go to this little town called Bakhchisaray on the peninsula. But when I started asking her about it, her facial expression changed. It was kind of like “eh… I want to tell you it will be great, but… you don’t speak Russian… I dunno if it’s a good idea.”
I couldn’t even say “Bakhchisaray.” It’s one of those places that truly almost no Western tourists have ever visited. Google it and you’ll find more Russian propaganda sites than travel blogs. Still, I was 21 and fearless stupid, so I bought a train ticket anyway.
By some miracle, I found my way into the town center from the train station and identified a suitably cheap hotel. Then, I ventured out to explore the three main attractions. See, Bakhchisaray is the home of the Crimean Tatar community — a population of Muslim Turkik people who trace their history to Central Asia. The Tatar people built an epic Khan’s palace in the center of town. But that’s not all — the town also has an amazing cave monastery and an ancient cave city, which you can hike to through the unique mid-altitude desert landscape.
My one day in Bakhchisaray was scary and hard. I’ve never been anywhere else so truly far off the beaten path. I had no idea how to navigate the extremely Russian, not backpacker-friendly culture. Case in point: My hotel’s only shower facilities were massive communal showers that were only turned on for 30 minutes a day. And I wouldn’t have even known that if I hadn’t had a Russian phrasebook with me.
Still, it was one of the most culturally interesting places I’ve ever been, and one that so few other backpackers will ever see. And I built tons of confidence that I could handle anything after visiting Crimea on my own.
How to cross Bakhchisaray off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Unfortunately, you may have to take a longer view than 30 before 30 to visit Bakhchisaray. Its location on the Crimean peninsula, coupled with the ongoing Russian war with Ukraine, makes it unsafe and often logistically impossible to travel.
If the conflict ends, you should be able to visit again. The nearest big city is Odessa, or you can take a very long train from Kiev (~20 hours). You’ll arrive in Simferopol or Sevastopol, where you’ll need to change for a more local train to Bakhchisaray (1 hour).
I would only recommend attempting this trip if you have a basic knowledge of Russian — like “where is the train station” and “I would like a room for one night.” Nobody speaks English and nobody will go out of their way to communicate with you. Additionally, you should learn to read the Cyrillic alphabet before traveling around eastern Ukraine.
In short — this is not a trip for the faint-hearted. It’s no Lviv or Kiev. But it’s an immensely rewarding journey for a daring backpacker (when the region is safe).
22. Drinking rum and mango juice all night on a rooftop in Kolkata
Of all the countries I’ve traveled before turning 30, I spent the most time in India. Seven incredible, exhausting, frustrating, thrilling weeks, in fact.
I never had the culture shock that hits most people when they arrive in India. What I got was more of a slow burn, wearing me down over the course of weeks. I’d been speeding around southern India for about a month when I started feeling seriously burned out. I hadn’t even spoken to another Western traveler in weeks. So to get myself out of my travel slump, I spontaneously booked a train ticket to Kolkata.
I got off the train, bleary-eyed from yet another uncomfortable overnight journey, and found what must’ve been the grungiest, cheapest hostel available — I think it cost $2 a night. The dorm room smelled horrible, people’s crap was everywhere, the toilet was clogged, and there was no hot water. It was one of the few genuine “f**k this” moments I had in my year on the road.
That evening, I made my way up to the roof deck and — finally — there were other backpackers! It was a motley mix of folks who had just arrived in India, a guy who had been living in Kolkata for awhile, some volunteers, some long-term travelers, and a couple on a short holiday.
Someone broke out a bottle of rum and some mango juice, and we spent the entire night — until the sun came up — sitting on that rooftop. We swapped travel stories and coping mechanisms, advice for the newbies and validation that none of us were alone in the weird/unsettling/culture-shocking experiences we’d had.
Come morning, we went our separate ways. I didn’t see any of them again during the rest of my time in Kolkata. I couldn’t even tell you any of their names. I took a train to Varanasi the next day and continued my solo exploration of India. But that one night was exactly what I needed to remember why I love traveling in the first place — it’s as much about the experiences you share as it is about the things you see.
How to cross Kolkata off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Kolkata is in northeastern India, near the border with Bangladesh. Despite being one of India’s four “mega-cities,” it gets relatively few tourists. But it was my favorite stop in India, and not just because I spent a night drinking on a rooftop.
The main backpacker neighborhood is called Sudder Street. It’s in the city center near a large market. I couldn’t tell you the name of the guesthouse I stayed at, but there are plenty of options surrounding the Capital Guesthouse.
Kolkata is especially awesome because of its unique Bengali food scene. Don’t miss the chance to try authentic kati rolls — chapati rolled up and stuffed with grilled meat or paneer, veggies, and spicy sauce. Hot Kati Rolls is the best place to try it. The seafood all around town is great, and you can get chai in little environmentally friendly clay cups for 2 rupees.
During the day, explore the cremation ghats and the haunting clay statues that the surrounding businesses produce. Visit the museums. Go to concerts and art exhibitions. Kolkata is the cosmopolitan heart of modern India, with a vibrant cultural scene that is accessible to locals and tourists alike.
It’s easy to find a train, bus or flight to Kolkata from anywhere else in India. Book tickets to touristic destinations (like Varanasi and Khajuraho) a few days in advance.
21. Seeing sharks, octopi, and eagle rays in a single day of diving in Cozumel, Mexico
I almost skipped diving in Cozumel.
A few days before I headed to the island, severe wind storms hit. My ferry made it across just before the port closed. After three days of anxious waiting, my dive shop called me at 6 am. “We can go today,” they said. “Can you get here by 7:30?”
Cue a mad scramble to find somewhere to have breakfast, change the rest of my hostel bookings so I could stay on Cozumel one more night, and run into the center of town to reach the dive shop.
By 8 am, I was on a very bumpy, freezing-cold boat ride with nine other divers. From the moment we jumped in the water at Palancar Gardens, I knew it would be the best dive I’d ever done. We descended just above a massive eagle ray. Over the next hour we drifted past sting rays galore, turtles, lobsters, all manners of tropical fish, and a stunningly colorful reef.
When we resurfaced, I immediately asked about night dives.
That evening, I got to the dive shop again when they had more bad news — my divemaster had bailed. So they spent the next 90 minutes desperately trying to find an available divemaster willing to go out in cold and windy weather. Finally, they found one and we got on the boat — but we forgot a BCD and had to go back. We were almost three hours late by the time we got to the dive site. We were the only boat there on a pitch-black side of the island.
I could never have imagined it beforehand, but the night dives were even better. We got within a few meters of a large reef shark, saw three octopi, and found more eels than I could count. As we were ascending at the very end, we turned off our flashlights and the ocean all around us lit up with bio-luminescent creatures. It was magical.
I may have gotten back at midnight and had to wake up at 5 am the next day to start my trip home, it took me almost an hour to wash enough salt out of my hair that I could get a brush through it again, and it was the coldest I’ve ever been wearing a wetsuit, but it was totally worth it.
How to cross diving in Cozumel off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Cozumel Island is a short ferry ride off the coast from Playa del Carmen, an hour south of Cancun. You can reach it in about two hours from the Cancun airport. You can also fly there directly from some major airports in the U.S. like Miami.
The main — and arguably only — reason to visit is because Cozumel has spectacular diving. It’s not a great beach destination and the vibe is very cruise-ship-centric. But man is the diving good.
To get the most out of diving in Cozumel, you should be a fairly advanced diver. All the dives are drift dives — i.e. you go with the current — which can be disconcerting if you’re new to the equipment and don’t have good buoyancy control. The best dive sites are 20+ meters deep.
I dove with Deep Blue and would highly recommend them. Book in advance during high season.
20. Hiking to a sunrise viewpoint of Mount Bromo, Indonesia
Mount Bromo wasn’t the reason I went to Indonesia — that’s later on this list — but it was on the cover of my Lonely Planet. From the moment I saw the photo, I knew I had to see it with my own eyes. So I endured a 2 am train departure, followed by the world’s most cramped bus ride where I was literally sitting on an old woman’s lap, followed by four hours of waiting for a shared minivan to reach Cemoro Lewang, the little village at the base of the volcano.
I found some travel buddies on the van. We had dinner together at the town’s only backpacker restaurant and picked up a few packs of Oreo’s for the morning before calling it an early night — like 8 pm early. Because we had to set our alarms for 1:30 am to reach the best viewpoint for sunrise.
By 2 am, we were on the “trail” — or in this case, vertical road. We were the only ones walking and we were relying on some questionable maps.me directions. After a couple hours, the road ended, and we couldn’t find the trail — so we ended up scrambling, in the dark, up a 30-meter cliff-face and cutting our own path through the jungle for a bit. (This would seem incredibly silly on the way back in the daylight, when the trail was so obvious.)
We made it to the viewpoint just before dawn. It was crowded, but everyone could still get a good view. It took 30 minutes for the sky to light up and turn the volcanoes all sorts of shades of orange, purple and pink. It was perhaps the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.
It was over almost as soon as it began. We promptly packed up our camera gear and walked back down in the early morning light. We reached Cemoro Lewang by breakfast time — and I continued to climb yet another volcano that night.
How to cross a sunrise at Mount Bromo off your 30 before 30 bucket list
You can visit Mount Bromo on an all-inclusive tour, on a part-tour/part-DIY hybrid, or totally on your own. You can also combine it with a trip to Mount Ijen.
I wrote a whole post about the DIY Bromo-to-Ijen trip. But in short, you need to get to Probbolingo by bus or train from any other major city on Java. Then, you can take a shared minivan up to Cemoro Lewang. The village has lots of cheap homestays to spend the night before your climb. You can either hike to a view point like I did, or you can hire a driver — motorbike or minivan — to take you.
The most typical route starts in Yogyakarta, takes in Bromo first, then Ijen, and finishes in Banyuwangi — where most backpackers pick up the ferry to Bali. Yogyakarta is the best place to organize an all-inclusive tour.
19. Visiting the cremation ghat at night in Varanasi
Varanasi — one of the most important places on the Ganges River — was not originally on my list in India. But in my first six weeks in the country, the one common thing all fellow backpackers told me was, “Varanasi is special.”
So when I found myself in Kolkata — a mere overnight train journey away — I couldn’t pass up the chance to see it for myself.
Varanasi doesn’t make the best first impression. The train station is chaotic, the entire city is ridiculously loud, it’s dirty, it smells awful, and the hassle from touts is extreme even by India standards. I checked into a budget hotel in the Old City and ate at a meh curry shop that clearly catered to tourists, then spent a few hours getting horribly lost in the backstreets.
But when night fell, things started looking up. I stumbled on the river worship ceremony at Dashashwamedh Ghat and stayed for an hour, watching people light candles and send them into the river. Then I went to grab dinner at the only local curry place I could find — where the owner sat me with the only other tourist there, a French woman who had been living in Varanasi for months.
My new travel buddy insisted that we go for a walk down the ghats at night. She offered to take me to a great apple pie place on the far end, and this American was convinced. We walked there, grabbed our pie, and walked back. By now it was nearly midnight. No other tourists were around. So on a whim, we decided to walk to the main cremation ghat.
Much to my surprise, there was a cremation ceremony going on at that hour. The whole family was there, water buffalo and all. The fire lit up the medieval buildings all around. It was totally silent aside from the flickering flame and the buffalo’s bell jingling.
And all of a sudden, I understood why people talk about Varanasi as such a special place. I can’t say I’m a particularly spiritual person, but it’s hard not to let it get under your skin there. It’s perhaps the only place on Earth where you can observe the most intimate family rituals — from weddings to funerals — in public, openly. Cliche as it may be, this was the India I’d always imagined.
How to cross visiting Varanasi off your 30 before 30 travel bucket list
Varanasi is a typical stop on the India backpacking circuit. It’s an overnight train trip away from Kolkata, Agra, Delhi, or Khajuraho. Book your train tickets well in advance.
Most backpacker-focused hotels and restaurants are in the old city. The one can’t-miss spot to eat is Blue Lassi, where the owner pounds fresh-fruit lassis in dozens of flavors with a mortar and pestle on demand. It’s hidden in a back alley in the western part of the old city.
The ghats are the main tourist focal point in Varanasi, and the center of all the local attention as well. While they’re incredibly fascinating and colorful, you’ll see traditional Indian life in very unfiltered terms. In particular, you are likely to see cremation ceremonies taking place if you walk by Manikarnika Ghat.
Visitors are welcomed at cremations — provided you act like an adult, are respectful, and don’t under any circumstances take photos. But many people feel uncomfortable watching such a deeply personal family experience as an outsider. You can avoid the cremations and still see plenty of fascinating things further south.
18. Seeing our first elephants on safari in Etosha National Park
I had very low expectations for my safari in Namibia. I was visiting at the tail-end of rainy season, when the animals retreat into the bush. My guides had spent the previous ten days convincing me that I probably wasn’t going to see more than a few impala and some ostriches.
But Raymond, my driver and guide in Etosha National Park, was determined. On our first afternoon in the park, he took us on a long, hot, boring drive toward what seemed like nowhere. We’d been in the car for almost an hour and seen nothing when he finally caught a trail — elephant droppings on the side of the road. They were close.
We slowed to a crawl and all eyes were on the thicket to the right of our car. Then, suddenly, one of the other women in my group shouted “ELEPHANT!” Raymond slammed on the brakes.
There they were — two big, beautiful bull elephants munching on the trees just a few meters from our vehicle. They paid us no attention and just lumbered about looking for more leaves. We, on the other hand, were captivated and clicking away with our cameras at a million miles a minute. Better yet, we had them all to ourselves. I could’ve watched them for hours.
How to cross a safari in Namibia off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Namibia is one of the best places in Africa to go on safari, because you can see tons of wildlife — including four of the Big Five — for extremely low cost. The park fees are only about $12 a day, compared to $60-$100 in East African countries like Kenya and Tanzania.
The downside is you’ll need your own vehicle. I booked a full two-week tour with Wild Dog Safaris, which I’d highly recommend. We did game drives in Etosha National Park, Okonjima, and the Kalahari Desert and were lucky enough to see all four of Namibia’s Big Five (no buffalo). The tour also took me to some of Namibia’s iconic desert landscapes.
The alternative is to rent a car and drive yourself. This is a good option in the dry season, when it’s easy to find wildlife and the roads are good. But in rainy season I’d recommend taking a tour — roads can flood from even small amounts of rainfall, and a guide who knows where to find the wildlife is invaluable.
17. Driving a motorbike around the Bolaven Plateau for four days
I was in Pakse, Laos, with just under a week left on my Lao visa. I was flipping through a binder at my guesthouse about motorbike routes in the region when a couple from Belgium, Rinke and Christophe, joined me. They said they were going to motorbike to Tat Lo — a waterfall on the Bolaven Plateau — the next day and asked if we should all go together. I couldn’t say no to that.
The next morning we rented some motorbikes from a photocopy shop, promptly got stopped and asked for bribes by a policeman (and avoided paying), and got massively lost trying to get out of the city. But once we were on the open highway, things were smooth sailing. We stopped at a few smaller waterfalls in the jungle as we climbed into the cool cloud forest on the plateau.
We spent the evening in Tat Lo hiking to more waterfalls before gathering with all the other backpackers in town at Mama Pap’s Restaurant — a thatched-roof pavilion with a couple communal wooden benches to eat on. By the time we finished eating, we’d decided to continue our motorbike adventures around the rest of the Bolaven Plateau.
The next three days were filled with long hours on the road traversing incredible limestone scenery, meeting kids in tiny villages that never see tourists, watching the sunset over the Mekong each night, buying lots of mangoes from roadside vendors, dealing with motorbike malfunctions, and — finally — driving 60 km on a barely-navigable mud pit of a dirt road to find the most spectacular jungle waterfalls I’ve ever seen.
What a way to end a trip to Laos.
How to cross motorbiking the Bolaven Plateau off your 30 before 30 bucket list
The Bolaven Plateau is one of the two most popular motorbike routes in southern Laos. It’s easy to organize this trip independently.
The jumping-off point is Pakse, an overnight bus ride away from Vientiane. Stay at Sabaidee 2 Guesthouse and ask for their maps and instructions on the route — they have tons of planning resources. This is also the best place to form a group to go with.
You can rent motorbikes from many shops in central Pakse. You normally need to leave your passport as collateral — bring a photocopy with you. Rental costs about $10 a day.
The typical overnight stops are Tat Lo, Sekong, Attapeu, and Paksong. However, if you set out from Tat Lo early enough, you can skip the night in Sekong and get all the way to Attepeu in one (long) day. You could spend a couple extra days in Tat Lo exploring some of the further-out waterfalls as well. I recommend doing the loop starting with Tat Lo because that leaves the worst road (between Attapeu and Paksong) for the end of your trip, when you’ll be more comfortable on your bike.
Tat Lo has good guesthouses, WiFi, and falung-friendly restaurants. Beyond that though, you’ll be staying mostly in local guesthouses and eating lots of noodle soup at roadside vendors. Vegetarians should bring snacks, as options are limited and communication is challenging once you leave Tat Lo. On the Attapeau to Paksong route, once you turn onto the dirt road, there are no petrol or food options for almost 40 km/4-5 hours.
16. Dancing all night to southern Italian folk music in Mantova
I spent most of my five weeks in Italy CouchSurfing. I made some lifelong friends this way — like Antonio, who took me on a midnight walk around old Naples. Or Andrea, who brought me to a dance party in Circo Massimo in Rome. But my single most memorable CouchSurfing experience was with Diana in the tiny city of Mantova.
On my last night with her, Diana invited me to join her and her friends to go to a southern music festival. A traditional folk band from the far south of Italy was performing a free concert at an outdoor stage. There was music, beer, and dancing.
I’m pretty sure the average age in the crowd was about 60, and almost everyone there knew all the traditional folk dances except us. But that didn’t stop them from insisting that we dance. We joined a giant circle and attempted to follow the typical dance moves, to no avail. So we started improvising. And before you knew it, everyone else in the circle was doing their own thing too.
There was lots of laughter, lots of sweat, lots of bumping into people, and lots of bonding with people I didn’t share a single word of language with. We danced until late into the night. It’s an experience I’ll always remember, and one I never could have had if I’d been staying in hostels.
How to cross CouchSurfing off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Getting started on CouchSurfing is easy — simply go to the website and create a profile. But actually having amazing CouchSurfing experiences can be a little more difficult, since good hosts are often pretty picky about who they accept as guests.
First, I’d highly recommend hosting a few times if you want to do CouchSurfing as part of your 30 before 30 list. This will help you get some good reviews and build a reputation. Writing a detailed profile also helps.
Second, CouchSurfing isn’t like hosteling — you need to plan in advance. Start asking around for hosts at least a couple weeks before you’re visiting a city. In the summer in Europe, you may need to look a month or more in advance. You can always try to find emergency hosts by posting in the city’s group, but you should never travel on such a tight budget that you couldn’t grab a hostel for the night if you need to.
Third, you’ll have the easiest time finding good hosts if you travel solo — and women tend to have an easier time than men. For some reason, people are less worried about a solo woman stealing their laptop than two male friends.
Finally, while CouchSurfing can be amazing, take the safety recommendations seriously and prepare for a little discomfort. You usually won’t get unlimited access to your host’s space, so you’ll have to figure out what to do when your host is at work. And remember, your host is going out of their way to deliver a unique travel experience for you. Be respectful of their space and their customs. You’re the one who needs to adapt to their lifestyle, not the other way around.
15. Celebrating my birthday with my Spanish family in Madrid
When I was in high school, my family did an exchange program with a family in Majadahonda, Spain — a suburb of Madrid. Teenage Pablo came to stay with my family for a few weeks, and later, my brother spent a couple weeks at Pablo’s family’s home.
Our families stayed in touch over the years — exchanging Christmas cards and emails. So when I was going to be in Spain, I wrote to Pablo’s mom, Chelo, and asked if we could meet. Instead, Chelo invited me and the friend I was traveling with to stay with her for a full week — which just happened to overlap my birthday.
Every minute of my stay with the Vazquez’s was perfect, from the early-morning tour of downtown Madrid to an evening drive to Segovia and all the 10 pm dinners in between. But my birthday was truly something else. At midnight, the whole family brought me a box of sweets and other goodies to begin the celebration. The next morning, we started the day by doing some grocery shopping — followed by a wine break. Then we went out to a multicourse lunch. Then we spent the afternoon relaxing before the party got started in the evening.
I couldn’t even tell you how much food and wine was consumed, but everything was amazing. The party was huge — the entire Vazquez extended clan came over to their house for the night. After that had wound down around midnight, a few of us went out for drinks and came back as the sun was coming up.
Then, the next day, we did it all again — because it was Chelo’s birthday! This time we had a huge mid-day meal, complete with authentic paella. It was the perfect lesson in how food brings families together across cultures.
How to check an epic birthday celebration abroad off your 30 before 30 bucket list
While you might not be able to have the exact Spanish birthday party that I did, you can still plan an amazing birthday on the road!
Birthdays are great for travel because you’re already in a mindset of celebrating and treating yourself. So book a slightly nicer hotel than you normally would. Or go out to a fancy dinner. Or plan a big night out on the town. Or plan an activity you’ve always wanted to try.
I always try to plan group activities of some kind on my birthday when I’m traveling — like signing up for a group tour. That way I have a guaranteed set of travel buddies to share the day with.
14. Attempting to order a beer on my first night in Beijing
My very first big trip abroad was when I moved to Beijing, China for a summer to study abroad. It was the first time I’d ever been on a plane alone, my first time going somewhere in the developing world, and my first time going somewhere where people spoke a language other than English.
The instructor for my program was supposed to meet my whole group at the airport — but he missed his flight. None of the rest of us knew each other or knew where we were supposed to go, so we spent hours searching around the Beijing airport, attempting to find a meeting point and figure out how to get a ride.
Eventually we made it to our university and got checked in to our dormitories. By this point I’d been traveling for about 40 hours and I was fried. China was proving harder than I thought. So I rounded up my fellow students and we decided to go searching for some food — and, more importantly, some beer. We found a little local restaurant a few steps away from campus. To our relief, the menu had photos of all the food so we could point and order — but no photos of drinks.
I’d had two years’ worth of Chinese classes at this point, so I knew how to say beer. I flagged down the waiter and said “pi jiu.”
She looked at me like I had two heads.
See, Chinese is a tonal language. In other words, if you say “pi” like you’re asking a question, it’s a totally different word than if you say “pi” like you’re making a declarative statement (think like telling a dog “no!”). When you’re studying in a classroom setting with a teacher who speaks English, you can get the tones slightly wrong and still be understood. But when you’re out in the real world, your tones need to be perfect. And mine most definitely weren’t.
My entire group spent the next five minutes trying to find “beer” in our Chinese phrasebooks, discussing among ourselves how to correctly pronounce it, and gesturing for what we wanted. The waiter was getting frustrated, we were getting frustrated, and everyone else in the restaurant was staring at us.
Finally, another waiter walked by with a couple cold bottles of beer. We pointed and held up our fingers to show how many bottles we wanted — and we were understood!
It was the best beer I ever tasted, and the very first thing we asked our Chinese teacher on our first day of classes was how to pronounce “pi jiu” correctly.
How to cross living abroad off your 30 before 30 bucket list
There are tons of ways you can live abroad — whether you’re a student, working full time, or looking for a job. It’s much easier when you’re younger, so this is the perfect experience for a 30 before 30 list.
The most common way to live abroad is through a university study abroad program. Typically you’ll spend a semester studying at a foreign university that’s partnered with your university at home. Depending on what you study, you may take classes in English or the local language.
Not in university? No worries! If you’re under 30, you can look for a job abroad using a working holiday visa in some countries. This is a bit tricky for Americans, who don’t have working holiday agreements with very many places, but Australia and New Zealand are some of the best places to do it. You get a visa allowing you to work and travel for up to one year, and you find a job when you get there. A word of warning: These jobs are often not glamorous. They range from working in hostels and bars to picking fruit or doing manual labor on a farm.
If you’re more interested in living abroad in Asia (or some parts of Latin America), you could also look into teaching English. This is easiest if you have a TEFL certificate, which you can acquire by taking online classes. Research placements very carefully and make sure you read the fine print about your visa and contract. Taiwan, South Korea, China, and Vietnam are a few of the best money-plus-work-life-balance places to teach.
Finally, if you already have a job that you think might let you work remotely, or if you’re self-employed, you could become a digital nomad. Pick wherever you want to live and work out the details with your employer!
13. Having Long Beach on Pulau Perhentian entirely to myself
Pulau Perhentian is the tropical island paradise that I will compare every other tropical island paradise to for the rest of my days. This tiny island off the east coast of Malaysia has limited electricity, a few beach huts, barbecues on the beach, and fantastic diving. It’s the kind of place where you could take your shoes off and put on your swimsuit when you arrive, and not have to put real clothes or shoes on again until you leave days (or weeks) later.
I was lucky enough to visit the Perhentians on the tail-end of monsoon season. The hour-long boat journey was rough — really rough — but when I arrived on the island, I knew it was worth it.
Only a handful of bungalows were open for the season at that point, so I found a private beach hut steps from Coral Bay Beach for $5 a night. I spent the next few days diving in the mornings, hiking to remote beaches in the afternoons, and eating grilled seafood while watching the sunset in the evenings.
One afternoon, I walked over to the island’s most popular beach — the stunning Long Beach. It’s basically a full kilometer of powdery white sand, turquoise water, and swaying palm trees.
And I had it all to myself. For three hours.
I don’t expect that I’ll ever get that lucky again. But if you ever find a deserted beach on a tropical island, all I can say is, enjoy it for every second you can.
How to cross the Perhentian Islands off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Pulau Perhentian is a bumpy hour-long speedboat ride away from a port near Kota Bharu, Malaysia. There are actually two islands — Big Perhentian is more resort-y, while backpackers prefer Little Perhentian.
The two main clusters of accommodation are at Coral Bay Beach and Long Beach, with a few other bungalows scattered around the island. Prices start around $5 a night. I recommend staying at Fatima’s on Coral Bay. Accommodation (and transportation) is seasonal — you can’t get to the islands during monsoon season at all. Coral Bay opens a few weeks earlier than Long Beach at the beginning of February, depending on weather.
Quiver Divers is the top dive shop on the island, with very affordable dive trips out to Temple — a pinnacle with sharks and tons of tropical fish.
12. Learning Medellin’s dark history on the Real City Tours free walking tour
Pablo Escobar. Say his name on the streets of Medellin, and you could end up in a shouting match with the locals. And yet his legacy in the city is visceral, and as a traveler, it’s impossible not to be curious about him.
I knew I wanted to learn about Escobar from somewhere other than Narcos and the U.S. media, but I wanted to do it in a way that avoided giving my money to people exploiting his reign of terror for tourism. When I discovered the Real City Tours Free Walking Tour, it seemed like exactly what I was looking for.
Over four hours on a rainy afternoon in Medellin, myself and 15 other travelers learned about the city’s history, from the beginnings of the coffee trade to today. Unlike most free walking tours I’ve done, this was light on attractions. We spent over half the time sitting on the steps of the library listening to our guide lay out the story of Escobar and the drug wars.
The content of the tour is so polarizing to the locals that several people approached our group and started arguing with the guide about what he was saying. But what could have been an ugly confrontation actually proved to be a learning experience — the guide asked these people to share their opinions with the group, so we could hear all different sides of the story.
It was the most fascinating, eye-opening tour I’ve ever done in a city that quickly became one of my favorites ever.
How to check the Real City Tours walking tour off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Real City Tours walking tours depart a few times a day — usually in the morning and afternoon, with slightly different weekend schedules. You must book online in advance within 36 hours of your tour, and register when you arrive. Walk-ups are not permitted.
The best time to go on your tour is on your first day in Medellin. This will allow you to get oriented and tap into your guide’s expert knowledge of the city. My guide had tons of restaurant recommendations that I’m glad I didn’t miss out on, for instance.
The tour takes about four hours — yes, seriously! — and stops for bathroom, snack, and coffee breaks at a couple spots. Wear comfortable walking shoes and bring rain gear.
The tour is free, but the guides work very hard and you should absolutely tip. 30,000 COP per person is a reasonable amount.
11. Getting on the plane for a round-the-world trip with no plans and no money
In June 2011, I had just graduated from college. I’d taken a week or so to move everything that didn’t fit in my backpack into the trash or a friend’s house. And I was on my way to the airport to catch a one-way flight to Germany, where I planned to stay with a total stranger for the very first time.
I wish I could tell you that I had a healthy sense of terror and excitement, but that would be a lie. It honestly just felt like “this is what I’m doing today, I guess.” The excitement sunk in a few days later when I arrived in Prague — the first city I fell head-over-heels in love with. The fear didn’t hit until about two weeks in, the first time I ended up totally lost in a new country (Italy) after my accommodation for the night fell through. And within a month, “travel full time” felt like the new normal.
Over the course of exactly a year, I backpacked through 26 countries on a total budget of $6,000. I gained a level of independence and confidence that I can’t imagine I would have attained any other way. Sure, there were some rough moments — see traveling in Egypt — but on the whole, it was exactly the once-in-a-lifetime experience I had hoped it would be.
There’s a good chance I’ll never travel full-time again — at least not for a very long time. I have a job I love, a great apartment, the world’s most adorable pet, and a whole life that I’ve built back in the States. But I still consider my year on the road one of my biggest accomplishments and a core part of who I am.
How to check full-time travel off your 30 before 30 bucket list
You don’t have to go away for a full year and save tens of thousands of dollars to experience full-time travel. Simply going somewhere for a month is enough to get a taste. If you can save $2,000 dollars, that’ll buy you a plane ticket to Southeast Asia and living expenses for a month. It’s more attainable than you may think!
The flip-side is I would never recommend full-time travel over finishing school or quitting a great job. Yes, it’s an incredible experience. But I’m kind of alarmed by all of the “influencers” out there saying “live your dream NOW!” Travel is temporary for almost everyone. Don’t sacrifice the fundamentals of building a stable, happy life because your Instagram feed is telling you you should. Make a plan for how long-term travel could fit into your life rather than just jumping at the first chance to do it.
For more on how to travel long-term on an extremely tight budget, check out my guide to budget travel.
10. Cafe-hopping all over Luang Prabang
Luang Prabang is my single favorite city on the planet. Just writing these words makes me want to go back so badly it hurts.
I discovered Luang Prabang in the last month of my year on the road. And it’s a good thing I did. If I’d arrived earlier, there is a real chance I never would have left.
I barely even did any of the touristic things there. I never woke up early to see the monks give alms. I didn’t visit the famous waterfall outside the city. I only went to two of the major temples.
Instead, I spent almost a week jumping from cafe to cafe, indulging in good coffee, strong air-conditioning, and a few good books.
In particular, I became a near-permanent resident at JoMa. This little cafe near the Royal Palace has fantastic coffee, great baked treats, good natural light, lots of couches and tables, and strong WiFi. After nearly a year of drinking instant coffee and capping my caffeine addiction strictly at $1 a day, I totally splurged on day after day of $3 coffee-and-cookies bills. And it was amazing.
How to cross Luang Prabang off your 30 before 30 travel bucket list
If you’re visiting Southeast Asia, it’s fairly easy to add Luang Prabang to your itinerary. The city now has a decent-sized airport. It’s also near the border with Thailand, so you can add it onto a trip there without tons of travel time. Buses run here from Vientiane, Vang Vieng, and Luang Namtha. For most other destinations you’ll have to transfer in Vientiane.
You can find all manners of guesthouses in Luang Prabang — from cheap backpacker haunts to luxury hotels. I couldn’t afford it at the time, but I had some serious hotel envy over some of the mid-range, family-owned places in old French shop-houses.
The biggest highlight of Luang Prabang — besides the huge array of great cafes and restaurants — is the Hmong night market. Every evening the city center fills up with vendors selling handicrafts from Hmong villages throughout the country. It’s quite different from the usual Chinese-made garbage — most of the products are beautifully made. Prices are very fair, and you don’t have to bargain too hard.
9. Camping under an acacia tree in the Namib Desert
From my very first night on my camping safari in Namibia, I was sold on camping as the best way to see Africa. Sleeping under the stars among the jackals and hyenas? Yes please!
The only downside to my camping safari was that we were moving around every day. That meant a lot of time in the car, and a lot of practice packing and unpacking our camping gear. So I was relieved when we finally reached Sesriem — the gateway to the famous sand dunes of southern Namibia — to spend two nights.
Sesriem is unquestionably one of the most beautiful places in southern Africa. Bright orange and pink sand surrounds the little enclave. You can hike through nearby Sesriem Canyon, take a sunset walk up Elam Dune, or drive to Deadvlei — the valley of dead trees — and find Namibia’s biggest sand dunes along the way.
And as a base for all this scenic beauty, my safari group was assigned the most incredible campsite. We had our very own acacia tree — giant bird’s nest and all — to set up our tents around. It provided much-needed shade and a little bit of that magical African atmosphere. While it’s hard to top climbing Dune 45 for sunrise, my best memory from Namibia is spending an afternoon with my book chilling under that acacia tree, birds chirping above me.
How to cross camping in the Namib Desert off your 30 before 30 bucket list
If you’re visiting this part of Namibia, you should consider one, and only one, campground — Sesriem Campsite.
This government-run campground has adequate — by no means the best — facilities. But it’s a classic stop on the southern African overland circuit. It’s also the only place in the area inside the park gates. So you can get a 30-minute head start in the morning to reach the sand dunes before they become massively overcrowded (leave by 5 am).
Plus, if you’re lucky, you could get one of the 10 original acacia-tree campsites. When you book, be sure to ask for one specifically. Don’t even think about showing up without a booking — you’ll probably be turned away — but even if you book late, you’re much more likely to end up in the mediocre “overflow area,” with no shade at all.
You’ll need your own wheels or a tour to reach Sesriem. Campsites are a pricey $35 per night, but I promise, it’s worth it. There’s a pricey on-site restaurant and a small camp store, but you’ll need to pick up serious self-catering supplies elsewhere.
8. Hiking to a glacier lake below Mount Manaslu in Nepal
“Come on, it’s right over here,” said my guide, Dibash. He’d been promising this for 45 minutes as my trekking buddy David, porter Sonam, and I blindly followed him up and down yak trails — turning back every 10 minutes when Dibash realized he was lost. It was getting harder to keep up with him in the thin mountain air. Part of me wished I hadn’t agreed to go on this little side excursion to a small lake.
But then, suddenly, we climbed up one last little hill and there it was in front of us — the clearest blue water I’ve ever seen, with a perfect reflection of the magnificent, 8,000-meter Manaslu right behind it.
I’d been dreaming about trekking in Nepal for years. I’d read practically every mountaineering book about climbing Everest. Ever since I’d booked my plane ticket to Nepal, my computer background displayed a carousel of photos of Annapurna. But I’d still never imagined it could be this beautiful in real life.
At the beginning, it hadn’t been. What nobody tells you before you go to Nepal is that the first few days of your trek are going to be fairly boring, long, and insanely difficult. I’d never climbed up stairs for three straight hours before my first day in Nepal.
But there’s something so indescribably satisfying about walking for 8 days and suddenly finding yourself surrounded by some of the world’s highest mountains. It makes all the effort worth it.
Now, at the lake, we weren’t going to pass up the opportunity for some great photos. I tried to get a jumping shot — but it turns out you get really winded, really fast when you jump at 3,800 meters! We added to some of the “I was here” rock piles. Then, we followed another trail until we were 200 meters above the lake. When the wind picked up and the clouds rolled in, it was time to head back to our cozy tea house — and thankfully we found a much more direct path back.
How to cross trekking in Nepal off your 30 before 30 travel bucket list
Nepal has some of the most accessible long-term trekking routes in the world. You don’t need to have any experience, or even any money — all you need is to be in moderately decent shape, read up on altitude sickness, and be ready for a little discomfort on the way to the most spectacular views you’ll ever see. You don’t even have to camp — you can stay in “tea house” lodges all along the way!
The two most popular trekking routes are the Annapurna Circuit and Everest Base Camp treks. You can do these treks without a guide or porter. But they’re very crowded.
So instead, I opted to do the Manaslu Circuit Trek. It’s a restricted-region trek, meaning you need special permits and you’re required to hire a guide. The scenery is similar to Annapurna — you start in the jungle, climb up until you cross a 5,200-meter high pass, and descend back to the jungle. You trek within 10 km of the border with Tibet, making it one of the only places on Earth where you can experience authentic Tibetan culture.
But the biggest benefit to the Manaslu trek was that in 14 days, I saw maybe 30 other trekkers. Most days my group walked entirely on our own. We occasionally encountered another group when we stopped for lunch, but not always. Most tea houses had 1-3 other groups of two people staying at them.
I’d highly recommend the Manaslu Circuit Trek, but I’m sure any other trek in Nepal would be amazing as well. If you’re serious about crossing this accomplishment off your 30 before 30 list, check out my complete guide to trekking in Nepal for all the logistics.
7. Hitchhiking around northern Romania
Along with Bakhchisaray in Ukraine, the Maramureș region of Romania — in the far north near the Ukrainian border — is one of the most remote and challenging places I’ve ever traveled. But it’s also one of the most special.
After spending a week or so hopping around Romania’s major tourist sights — like Bran Castle and Bucharest — I was ready for something a bit more adventurous. So I hopped on a train from Cluj Napoca to Sighetu Marmatiei, the capital of Maramureș. Eight hours later — around 10 pm — the train stopped in the middle of a grassy field. Everyone got off. This was my destination. There was no train station, no lights, no visible civilization anywhere.
Luckily I had vague directions from my hostel (something like “follow the path through the field into town, take a right at the petrol station, pass two dirt alleys and turn down the third, and you’ll see the hostel after 500 meters”). When I arrived there was a note on the door telling me to check myself in and grab whatever bed I wanted, and I could complete check-in in the morning.
I spent the next four days exploring Sighet, encountering almost no other tourists. The guests at my hostel were all Peace Corps volunteers from surrounding villages. The hostel owners — a Romanian-British couple — organized activities like visiting the “livestock market” and going on a traditional bar crawl.
But the real highlight was hitchhiking to the little village of Sapanta, 15 km away from Sighet. This village is famous for the “Merry Cemetery“. But it’s completely inaccessible on public transportation. So, under the guidance of a Peace Corps volunteer and my hostel owner, I headed to the main hitchhiking pick-up spot in town. I flagged down a ride along with a few other locals, hopped in the back of a mid-’80’s Soviet vehicle driven by shirtless farmers blaring Romanian folk music, and was dropped off just outside the cemetery. And when I was done exploring, despite speaking almost no Romanian, I managed to get my own lift back.
How to cross visiting the Maramureș off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Backpacking around northern Romania isn’t for the faint of heart. The language barrier is real, travel information is almost nonexistent, and everything moves very, very slowly. But if you’re intrepid and have plenty of time on your hands, it’s also extremely rewarding.
Sighet is the focal point for most visitors to the Maramureș. Unfortunately the amazing hostel I stayed in has since closed. Now, you’re stuck with a few budget guesthouses or more of a mid-range B&B (still not very expensive by Western Europe standards).
Sighet is a long but fairly straightforward train trip from southern Romania. But to visit the surrounding villages, you’ll need to hitchhike. It works more like a very informal public transport network than what you might imagine hitchhiking to be like. You ask locals where to find a ride (there are informal “stops” in most towns), wait in line, ask drivers who stop if they’re passing your destination, and pay the comparable bus fare. This is how the locals get around and everyone will tell you it’s safe, even for tourists. Sapanta is the easiest and most rewarding hitchhiking destination.
Don’t leave northern Romania without exploring the other major travel highlight — the monasteries of southern Bucovina. If you rent a car, this is a very straightforward add-on from Sighet. If you’re reliant on public transport, good luck. I found an unlicensed minivan departing from the Lukoil petrol station in Sighet. The driver said he was going to Suceava, but when we reached Gura Humorului, he kicked me out on the side of the road at an auto repair shop. I had to find my own onward bus to Suceava from there.
Is it the easiest place to travel? No. But you’ll be left with lasting memories of the people you meet from this little-visited region.
6. Watching the sun rise over the jungle surrounding Borobudur
Most of the things on this 30 before 30 list are things that happened spontaneously during my travels. But this one, I planned for.
I watched flight prices to Indonesia for five years until I found flights that were reasonably affordable and worked with my work schedule. I endured a 32-hour plane ride, followed by a night on a metal bench in the Jakarta airport, followed by a 5 am local flight, followed by a long local bus trip, followed by a cramped minibus journey. And then, still jet-lagged and sleep-deprived, I set my alarm for 4 am and paid almost double the normal admission price.
All of this to see the sunrise from Borobudur Temple.
See, on my first go-around in Southeast Asia on my round-the-world trip, I had skipped Indonesia entirely. It honestly just never occurred to me to visit. But on one of my last nights in the region, I was hanging out with some fellow backpackers in Chiang Mai, gushing over how much I’d loved Petra, when one of them whipped out their phone and showed me some pictures from Borobudur. In that moment, I knew I had to go.
Was it worth it? Absolutely. Walking up the ancient stone staircase in the dark, waiting for over an hour as the sky over the jungle turned from pitch-black to grey to pink. Hoping the clouds would clear long enough to get the perfect photo — which they did. Walking around the base of the temple and seeing the bas-reliefs glow in the morning light, with hardly another tourist around.
Now, I’m so glad I skipped Indonesia my first time around. I’d been “templed-out” — I even bailed on sunrise at Angkor Wat. I wouldn’t have appreciated Borobudur at the time; it would’ve been “just another temple.” Instead, it earned its place on my list of best travel experiences ever.
How to cross sunrise at Borobudur off your 30 before 30 list
Your first staging point for seeing sunrise at Borobudur is Yogyakarta. This student town is far friendlier and more pleasant than most other big cities on Java (see Jakarta, Surabaya, Probbolingo…) and is a great place to spend a few days adjusting to Southeast Asia.
Next, you’ll need to get to the town of Borobudur. You could either book a sunrise tour from Yogyakarta (leaving around 3 am) or rent a motorbike and drive very early in the morning, but I’d suggest taking the bus the evening before and staying overnight instead. The absolutely lovely Efata Homestay is a good base — the owner will even give you a motorbike ride to the gate at 4 am.
Either way, book your Borobudur sunrise ticket the day before. The only way to get one of these tickets is through the Manohara Hotel. They charge a whopping 450,000 rupiah — but I promise, it’s worth it. The extra expense is because the hotel has its own entrance gate, which opens at 4:30 am, a full 90 minutes before the main entrance. Your ticket also includes a souvenir (I got a table runner), breakfast, and use of a torch.
Once you enter the complex, you’re free to choose your sunrise spot and wander around as you like. The best views are from the east-facing side of the second-to-the-top platform.
After the sun comes up, most people just leave the temple. Don’t do this — you’ll miss out on so much of what Borobudur has to offer! Instead, walk all the way back to the base and check out the bas relief “pilgrim walk.” The entire thing is about 5 km, but you’ll get the idea after walking around a few levels.
There are tons of other things to do in Borobudur as well — more temples, gorgeous rice paddies, and lots of local businesses that can show you how they produce handicrafts. The best way to see the area is to rent a bicycle from your guesthouse (most guesthouses have maps). You only need a day to see quite a lot of rural Javanese life.
5. Watching morning mass at Bet Giyorgis in Lalibela
The sound of hymns being sung through a megaphone. The smell of incense burning. The feel of cool mountain air against my skin. Even though it’s home to some of the world’s most incredible architectural feats, these little things are what I remember about Lalibela, Ethiopia.
Lalibela is the one true tourist draw to Ethiopia. Its rock-hewn churches were carved centuries ago in intricate detail. But unlike places like Angkor Wat or Petra, Lalibela is still actively in use as a religious site. Pilgrims come from all over the country to practice the world’s most traditional form of Christianity here.
I decided that simply wandering around the old churches wasn’t enough — I wanted to see them in action. So I set my alarm for an uncomfortably early hour and hauled myself breathlessly up the massive hill (at 2,600 meters, the air is thinner there! or so I told myself…) to Bet Giyorgis — the church carved in the shape of a cross — just in time for morning mass.
You can’t actually see Bet Giyorgis until you are almost on top of it. But it wasn’t hard to find — all I had to do was follow the steady stream of pilgrims in white cotton dress and the sound of the priest singing through a megaphone.
I found a viewpoint above the church and simply watched the worshipers coming and going for over an hour. A priest-in-training came over to chat with me for a few minutes. Some kids posed for photos. I was the only tourist around, but everyone who passed by gave me a big, welcoming grin and wave. This is what travel is all about.
How to cross the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Ethiopia may have a reputation for being a starvation-plagued, deeply impoverished nation. But the reality is it’s one of the most exciting travel destinations on the planet — friendly people, easy to get around, extremely cheap, and very safe. (It’s also almost entirely emerald-green mountains — only a small part is desert!) I truly don’t understand why it remains so undiscovered, but you should go now before everyone else figures out how amazing it is.
You’ll most likely arrive in the capital, Addis Ababa. From here, you can take a short flight to reach Lalibela’s tiny airport. If you flew to Ethiopia on Ethiopian Airlines, you get a 50% discount on domestic plane tickets — they could cost as little as $10.
If you have more time than money, you’re in for a grueling two-day public bus journey to reach this little village. Seriously, fly. It’s not worth it. The public buses in Ethiopia are the most terrifying I’ve ever experienced, and I only rode on them for journeys of less than three hours.
Lalibela is the most touristic place in Ethiopia (which isn’t saying much). You’ll find hotels and restaurants that cater to tourists and amenities like good WiFi and hot (or at least usually functioning) water. Don’t miss Unique Restaurant for authentic home-style vegetarian cooking, and Ben Abeba for a totally unique atmosphere and epic views.
Admission to the churches costs $40 for two days. Save your ticket — you’ll need to display it at every church. Note that some churches only allow men to enter, many of the best are hidden down secret passageways, and the entire complex closes for two hours in the middle of the day. Bet Giyorgis is the only standalone church, not affiliated with either cluster.
You could rush through the churches in as little as half a day. But I recommend staying two days in Lalibela. This will allow you to visit the museums, get a second look at all the churches, and go for some short walks in the surrounding mountains. You can also use Lalibela as the base for a longer trek to nearby monasteries.
4. Watching the sun set over three seas in Kanyakumari
Kanyakumari doesn’t make it onto many Western tourist itineraries in India. Its biggest claim to fame is being the town at the very tip of the subcontinent. But for domestic travelers, it’s a popular holiday destination.
I ended up in Kanyakumari after spending nearly a week in Trivandrum getting over horrible food poisoning and hiding from a freak cyclone that caused dangerous floods throughout south India. I’d done nothing besides watch a Friends marathon on my hotel TV, interrupted by occasional breaks to walk from my hotel to the Indian Coffee House down the street and back. I was ready to adventure again, but I didn’t want to commit to a long train trip. So I picked the nearest destination that got a mention in my Lonely Planet guide.
While waiting for the train, I met a couple other backpackers from Germany who had been volunteering for a few months and were now traveling around. We agreed to share a room in Kanyakumari — a grungy pilgrim’s hostel with one king-sized bed and a bucket shower, but at $1 each per night, the price was right.
We spent the afternoon exploring — getting our fortunes told by a streetside psychic, drinking chai, shopping for traditional clothing, and taking a boat trip to a temple and meditation center. On a whim, we decided to head to the docks — the true tip of India — to watch the sunset.
Well, we weren’t the only ones who had that idea. It seemed like nearly every human in southern India had coalesced around this little dock and the water beneath it where three seas converge. So we found a (relatively) empty spot, made some local friends, and waited for the sun to go down.
As the sun fell below the horizon, the entire crowd — thousands of people — erupted in cheers. People splashed around in the water below us. Our new local friends hugged us. I’ve never seen such pure joy just from the closing of another day.
How to cross a sunset in Kanyakumari off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Kanyakumari is very accessible by bus and train from most other destinations in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, India’s two southernmost states. The bus and train stations are in the center of town. The logical stopping point if you’re exploring Tamil Nadu is Madurai, while Trivandrum, Kollam, or Cochi make logical jumping-off points for Kerala.
The bulk of the cheap hotels are between Main Road and the sea, in the alleys. You’ll find cheap restaurants and chai stalls further up the main road toward the more urbanized local center.
Because Kanyakumari is such a popular domestic tourist destination, it’s a great place to go shopping. Prices are reasonable compared to more Western-tourist-oriented places (like Varanasi or Agra), you won’t have to bargain as ruthlessly, and quality is higher. There are large markets near the government museum and all along the beach.
This is really only a one-day stop: arrive in time to watch the sunset, crash early, wake up to watch the sun rise, and then head to your next destination. But those 24 hours you spend here will be truly special.
3. Tea with a Bedouin nomad in Petra
I used to think that I wasn’t particularly interested in seeing ancient historical sites when traveling. I wanted to “experience” cities and cultures, not tick off tourist spots. (Cue massive eye-roll at my 21-year-old self.)
Then I went to Petra.
From the first moment I stepped into the Siq — the canyon leading to the iconic Treasury (of Indiana Jones fame) — I was enthralled. This was an ancient civilization so mysterious that although it was considered a major presence in the ancient world, only one other settlement had been found at that point.
Plus, unlike other ancient ruins like the Coliseum or Ephesus, Petra is an outdoor adventurer’s playground. You have to undertake fairly grueling hikes through spectacular desert scenery to reach the High Place of Sacrifice, the Monastery, or the top of the Royal Tombs.
On my third day in Petra, I’d covered most of the main attractions. So I teamed up with a group of backpackers from all over the world to undertake the “alternate hike” into the park — through Wadi Muthlim, a canyon carved by a river that dried up centuries ago.
We hiked and rock-scrambled for about four hours, passing small tombs and carvings along the way. We hadn’t seen a single other tourist. Then, just as we were nearing the end of the trail, we saw a Bedouin man run out of a cave above us. He was waving his arms and shouting something. Once we got closer, we realized he was saying “Come! Tea!”
It was an invitation we couldn’t refuse. So we hiked up to where he was at, which we quickly realized was a cave he was living in. He had a couple goats, a few blankets, a small fire, a kettle and a tin cup. He proceeded to brew tea in the cup over the fire while attempting to chat with us in a mish-mash of his extremely limited English and our collective extremely limited Arabic. When the tea was ready, we sat in a circle and passed around the cup, each taking a couple of sips, until it was gone.
Then my backpacking group got up and continued on our way, in complete awe at the connection we’d just made — merely a couple kilometers from one of the Seven Wonders of the World, in all its package-tour glory.
How to cross Petra off your 30 before 30 travel bucket list
Petra is in southern Jordan, near the borders with Israel and Egypt. You’ll stay in the village of Wadi Musa (I recommend Valentine Inn), a 2-km walk away from the entrance gate. Buses and minibuses run throughout the day from Amman and Aqaba.
Admission is 50 JD for one day or 60 JD for three days. If you visit on a day-trip from Israel, you’ll have to pay a whopping 90 JD for just the one-day pass.
Visiting Petra involves a lot of walking. Just to get into the park, you have to hike through the Siq for about half an hour. The best ruins are long climbs above the canyon floor, and the climb to the Monastery starts a good hour’s walk from the Treasury. Much of the hiking is through sand.
Most people who undertake the more challenging hikes into the park, like the path through Wadi Muthlim, hire a guide. This is a good idea if you’re on your own or if you’re not a very confident hiker. The trails aren’t marked at all, and in some places you have to lower yourself over large boulders. However, a guide isn’t strictly necessary — although some of the ticket-office folks may object to you finding your own way.
Never undertake a hike on your own through Petra’s canyons if it’s been raining. Flash flooding is extremely common, and you have literally nowhere to go — the canyon walls are so narrow that you have to walk sideways at some points, and far too high and steep to climb up.
2. Camping on the rim of an active volcano in the Danakil Depression
The Danakil Depression is famous for being the “hottest place on Earth.” It crosses a stretch of desert in Ethiopia, Eritrea and Djibuti. It’s highly geologically volatile — containing a huge number of active volcanoes, sulfuric acid lakes, and tons and tons and tons of salt.
I signed up for a four-day Danakil Depression tour as soon as I arrived in Ethiopia. From the beginning, it cemented Ethiopia as one of my favorite travel destinations on the planet. In fact, I could have made half this list of 30 before 30 travel experiences from moments in my tour — a dance party to classic Tigraigna music on the shore of a salt lake at sunset, meeting a salt miner camel train heading back to the mountains, visiting a huge market the day before a festival in the desert’s largest town, experiencing a traditional coffee ceremony at a homestay, walking around the village of Abale at sunrise and meeting dozens of local families who all wanted their photos taken.
But as amazing as all of that was, none of it holds a candle to my last night of the tour. Our destination? Erta Ale, an active volcano with one of the world’s only permanent lava lakes.
We drove to the most remote place I’ve ever seen — eight hours away from the nearest sign of civilization — and then turned onto a “road” made from solid lava. The last 12 km of the drive took hours. By the time we reached the base of the volcano, it was already time to go.
We hiked in the dark, with only our headlamps to guide us. We couldn’t see the crater until we were nearly at the top. We scrambled down a very-sketchy ladder and across the rocks to reach the rim.
We’d heard rumors from travelers coming the other way that the volcano was “very full” — full of lava, that is. But we didn’t realize until we reached it that the crater had overflowed just three days earlier.
We cautiously approached, under the instruction of our guide. I smelled burning rubber — it was the soles of my shoes. The heat was incredible. The lava was within a meter of the rim, bubbling up and splashing the ground just in front of us. As we got closer, the guide informed us that we were walking over freshly hardened lava, and it was likely to break underneath us. Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened. It was like walking through snow that has frozen over on the surface — except boiling hot, much sharper, and you have no idea what’s underneath.
The guide said we could safely go to within three meters (!!!) of the rim, provided we listen for him to yell for us to run. Nervously giggling, I walked as close as I could get. Lava sparks hit my arms, face, and camera. The woman next to me started having a panic attack, sure she was going to be swallowed by the volcano. It didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.
When I finally felt secure enough that I wasn’t going to be swept away by a lava wave, I did the most terrifying thing of all — turned my back on the crater to let someone take my photo. I could hear it splashing behind me.
Eventually, we climbed back up to the crater rim, where we still had a view of the lava lake but we could safely camp. My little group — named “Team Garlic” due to our assistance with dinner prep — broke out a bottle of Serbian moonshine and passed it around. We spent all night watching and listening to the lava crashing against the rim, under the starriest sky I’ve ever seen, hundreds of miles away from anything.
How to cross the Danakil Depression off your 30 before 30 bucket list
If you’re thinking the Danakil Depression tour sounds amazing, you’d be absolutely right. But there are some things to know before you book your trip.
First, the only way to visit Danakil is on an organized tour. You cannot go independently for security and logistical reasons. The locals would refuse your permits, and even if you could get around that, it would be extremely dangerous. Ethio Travel and Tours is the big-name company, and I had a great experience with them. WorldSun is another popular option. Prices start at $300 for three days, but you can negotiate in low season (I paid $300 for four days in August).
Second, it doesn’t matter how much you pay for your tour — facilities are extremely basic. At your first camp, the “toilet” is a hole in the ground opposite a military base with no walls around it (ladies, bring sarongs). At the second, you’ll have a real squat toilet with a bucket flush, and it will feel like luxury. At the third, you’re just out in the wild. And showers are totally nonexistent the whole way. You’ll sleep on the ground or on uncomfortable mesh “beds” with no mattresses, usually outside in 100-degree heat.
Third, while there hasn’t been a serious incident since 2012, the Danakil Depression is still considered a high-risk travel area. Tourists have been kidnapped and murdered on the rim of Erta Ale. It’s a highly contested border region with Eritrea, and you may hear gunshots in the distance if fighting flares up (it’s that close). I didn’t feel unsafe at all, but my group was required to travel with military escorts the entire time. And if something did happen, it leads me to…
…You could travel the world for a lifetime and never find anywhere quite as remote as the Danakil Depression. You’re at least a day’s drive or very expensive helicopter evacuation away from medical help. Because of the security issues, your travel insurance won’t cover you. And, between walking around sulfuric acid mountains and standing 3 meters away from a lava lake, you’re not exactly engaging in low-risk activities.
All of this is to say, a tour to the Danakil Depression is significantly riskier than most other travel experiences you can have in Ethiopia — or anywhere, for that matter. I would strongly argue that the risk is worth it and it doesn’t feel particularly risky when you’re there. Instead, you’ll be rewarded with a travel experience you’ll never forget. But it’s worth putting a bit more thought than normal into whether this trip is for you.
If you decide it is, the easiest way to book is to contact Ethio Travel and Tours.
1. Lao hai with the village chief in Luang Nam Tha
I got in way over my head when deciding to do a jungle trek in Laos. I’d been expecting something more akin to those “jungle adventures” in Thailand, where you go on a forest walk for an hour, then spend the rest of the day chilling at a campsite or swimming in a river. But my hill tribe trek in the Nam Ha Protected Area was serious.
For two days, we went up and down, across rivers, through vegetation so thick we had to slash through with a machete. It was hot — painfully so — and I had to carry all my camping gear on my back. The river we were supposed to be able to bathe in had dried up for the summer. Needless to say, by the end of the trek, I was feeling a bit cranky.
The trek ended with a swim across the river, leading us to a small Khmu village where we had to wait for our ride. This was the home of one of our two guides. It was a lazy place with one soft drink shop, a few stilted bamboo houses, and little else.
I don’t remember who said it, but somebody said the words “lao hai?” And suddenly the village was buzzing with activity. Somebody went to wake up the chief (he was napping). Someone else went to fetch the barrel of the aforementioned rice liquor. All the local men started to gather.
We formed a large circle around the barrel — or, really, urn — of liquor. Someone placed a vat of water beside the urn, cracked open the beetle-nut seal, and stuck in a long bamboo straw. Then, the chief filled a cup with water, poured it in, and proceeded to drink until the liquid inside was back to its normal levels.
When the chief was finished, he passed the cup to the man next to him — one of my trekking buddies. And so it went, around the circle, everybody taking a drink. When it was my turn, I was a bit nervous — I’m not much of a chugger — but the liquor was surprisingly weak and sweet. It was more like a dry white wine than the gut-rotting stuff we’d been goaded by our guides into trying the night before in the jungle.
We kept passing the cup around until everyone was finished. The local men laughed at and cheered on the tourists. Our Khmu guide translated. I could viscerally feel the pace of life slowing down all around me (from the already-slow pace of Laos overall). It was a truly remarkable connection with people who I otherwise have absolutely nothing in common with.
Eventually the socializing broke up. A few of the guys went into one of the bamboo huts for a nap, while the rest of us sipped cold Coke and waited for our sorngthaew back to town and went our separate ways. Walking through the busy streets of Luang Nam Tha, the events of the afternoon almost didn’t feel real.
The jungle trek may have been miserable, but it’s a sacrifice I’m glad to have made in exchange for the best travel experience before turning 30 that I had.
How to cross jungle trekking in Laos off your 30 before 30 bucket list
Northern Laos is an underappreciated mecca of hill tribe trekking. It’s far more authentic than Sapa, Vietnam, and the scenery is nearly as beautiful.
Luang Nam Tha is the logical base to organize your trek. Trips run into the Nam Ha Protected Area — a dense swath of jungle that you’ll have to machete your way through. Options range from a quick overnight to multi-day journeys. You can stay in hill tribe homestays, bamboo huts, dedicated campgrounds, or pitch a tent wherever your guide wants to stop. And you can add other adventures like kayaking to your itinerary as well.
The tour offices on the main road in Luang Nam Tha post signs outside with tours leaving the next day and how many open spaces they have. So if you’re traveling solo, just show up and walk around — costs can be as low as $10 a day if you join a trip with several other people.
The best part about hill tribe trekking in Laos is that it’s not the exploitative, human-zoo experience you find in many other parts of the world. The tour agencies have great relationships with local tribes and only bring travelers into each village once a month or so. Additionally, you can only visit these villages with two guides — one who speaks English and Lao, and the other who speaks Lao and the native language of the villages you’re visiting (often the second guide will be from the village). This allows you to have much more genuine interactions with these rural communities.
Whatever you do, don’t bring candy to hand out to the kids (unless you’re prepared to front the cost of dental care). If you want to give something, books are a better option.
What’s on your 30 before 30 travel bucket list?
My first 30 years of travel have been filled with too many rewarding experiences to name. Believe it or not, my initial brainstorm for this post had an additional 50+ items on it — and those are just the ones that stuck out as the absolute best of the best!
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the travel I’ve done so far, it’s that the pre-planned experiences aren’t always the ones that stick with you. It’s the little moments that you least expect that make a trip so amazing. So while I’ve never been to the Taj Mahal, Machu Picchu, or Antarctica, I wouldn’t trade the trips I’ve taken in a million years. And I’m already starting my 40-before 40 list (leave me a comment if you have ideas)!
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