Opinion
The greatest travel experience of my life was filled with danger
Ben Groundwater
Travel writerYou really don’t want to get a puncture on your way in to Ugab Rhino Camp. Despite the name, it’s not the rhinos you have to worry about here, but a pride of desert lions known to inhabit this spot in central Namibia.
Getting a puncture means getting out of your vehicle under a hot, desert sun, working your way through changing a tyre in the middle of nowhere, knowing that there are definitely lions prowling around. It’s not ideal.
A road trip through southern Africa was the journey of a lifetime.Credit: iStock
And so the road, such as it is, is causing my partner Jess and me a fair bit of stress. It’s a dirt track strewn with sharp rocks, the sort that could tear a gash in your tyre wall with ease should you hit them at the wrong angle. There’s no one around here to call for help. There’s no one around here at all.
Eventually, we make it into the camp puncture-free and set up, before the guy running Ugab comes over and says he wants to show us something. On the site a few places over from ours, he points to the sandy ground, where there’s the perfect, dinner-plate-sized imprint of a lion’s paw. “Yesterday,” he says, smiling.
It’s probably not spoiling the ending of this story to tell you that we weren’t eaten by lions on that trip (though if you try to stay at Ugab Rhino Camp now you will see a sign posted out the front stating: “Closed because of extremely aggressive lion in the area.”)
We survived our night in the Namibian desert, and went on to Etosha National Park afterwards, before continuing our journey up through the Caprivi Strip, travelling south into Botswana and eventually back to where we started, in Johannesburg.
Beware of the locals: Etosha National Park in Namibia.Credit: iStock
That was probably the greatest travel experience of my entire life. Jess and I spent six weeks in a Hilux with a tent on the roof, driving around southern Africa, camping and sightseeing.
We stayed in some truly beautiful campsites, we stayed in some pretty dodgy ones. We had encounters with marauding baboons, we heard lions roar at night, elephants walked through our campsite one night almost within touching distance, some vervet monkeys stole our bag of rice. We cooked meals on the campfire. We toasted sunsets with a G&T.
Every day felt like a challenge, with a new route to plot, a new adventure to tackle. All these dangers, all these unknowns. There’s nothing like it.
I always knew I loved trips like this, but I never knew why. That is, until recently, when I read about the theory of the “fun scale”, in which the experience of enjoyment is broken down into three different “types”.
Type 1 fun is something that you enjoy in the moment of doing it, and will later recall fondly. Type 2 fun, meanwhile, is challenging and maybe not exactly enjoyable at the time, but gratifying to look back on. And type 3 fun is not enjoyable while you’re doing it and not enjoyable in hindsight.
You can guess which type of enjoyment is said to be the most rewarding, particularly in the long term.
This is a scale that’s often mentioned by outdoorsy types, those who like to climb mountains and hike great distances and camp in the most remote, inaccessible places. It’s generally believed, particularly by those people, that type 2 is the sort of enjoyment we should all be seeking: experiences that challenge you, that test you, that give you a feeling of achievement, if not immediate, undiluted joy.
These type 2 experiences increase your self-esteem, they give you perspective, allow you to learn more about your personal limits, strengthen your resilience and provide great memories.
I never realised it before, but I’ve been looking for type 2 travel experiences my whole life. Pretty much all my favourite travel memories have featured some sort of discomfort or challenge mixed in with pure fun.
All of those backpacking trips from way back in the day – there’s definitely hardship there. It’s uncomfortable. It’s work sometimes. The week-long scooter adventure I did with Jess around the Mekong Delta. The time I got up at 3am to climb a live volcano in Chile. The feeling of walking into Machu Picchu from the end of the Inca Trail. The three-month overland trip from Nairobi to Cape Town. Taking a six-month-old child to Spain to live there for a year.
This is why I’ve never been drawn to the idea of luxury being the pinnacle of the travel experience. Sure, I love a comfy bed, and I’m never going to turn down a killer, three Michelin star meal. But I also know that those aren’t the experiences I will look back on the most fondly, they’re not the ones that will change me, they’re not the most thrilling or rewarding.
For that, you need a challenge. You need at least a whiff of danger to your travel experience, at least some minor discomfort. You need monkeys stealing your rice, you need lions circling your campsite. It all sounds good in hindsight.
Sign up for the Traveller newsletter
The latest travel news, tips and inspiration delivered to your inbox. Sign up now.