You don’t travel to arrive, but to be on the road.(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, translated by DeepL)
Why I travel
I don’t travel to tick things off a list or take photos in front of tourist attractions. I travel because I’m curious. About people. About stories. About contradictions. And sometimes about myself.
For me, traveling means stepping out of my comfort zone and into the unknown—with an open heart, a critical eye, and plenty of room for questions. Questions that often don’t occur to me at home because everything is so loud. Because everything is so fast. Because we rarely pause to reflect.
But when I’m on the road – somewhere in Uzbekistan at a bazaar, between mud houses in Kyrgyzstan, or drinking tea in a Moscow café – suddenly there’s this quiet moment when the world shifts a little bit. And with it, my view of it.
Traveling is a change of perspective
When I’m on the road, I don’t just look at the world—the world looks back at me. And it asks counter-questions.
- Why do you live the way you do?
- Why do you think your truth is universal?
- Why do you think you know how things are?
I love these moments—and they challenge me. Because they are honest. Because they can be uncomfortable. And because they force me to question what I know.
Just as Lutz Jäkel opens up space for other narratives in his pictures and reports – beyond stereotypes – I try to listen instead of judging on my travels. To observe instead of explaining. And to question my own attitude again and again.
Encounters instead of assertions
I remember a scene in Samarkand: an old woman selling dried apricots on the side of the road. We strike up a conversation—with our hands, feet, and eyes. She laughs. I laugh. We understand each other—even though we don’t speak a single word in common.
This kind of encounter changes me. Not loudly, but quietly. Not for Instagram, but for my inner self. It sharpens my perception—for what really matters. For humanity. For connection. For dignity.
Writing about travel means processing. Looking deeper. Giving meaning to things without pinning them down. Not telling the one truth—but making many voices heard.
Traveling is also a way of examining your own life
The longer I travel, the more I realize how much my worldview is shaped by where I come from. By the life I lead. By the certainties I take for granted. By privileges I often don’t even notice. But when I meet people who get by with less—and often give more—my thinking begins to expand. Not to make me feel bad, but to help me grow. And to realize that my way of life is just one of many possibilities.
What remains
Travel changes me. Not all at once. Not always visibly. But steadily. And deeply. I come back different than when I left. With more questions than answers. With new thoughts in my luggage. And with a humility that is often lost in everyday life. That’s why I continue to travel. Not to leave my mark on the world. But to learn. And to remember: how little we know. And how much we could discover – if we are willing to really look.
What about you?
When was the last time you embarked on a journey that truly moved you? When was the last time you saw something for the first time—or questioned something? And when was the last time you saw the unknown as an invitation?
Perhaps now is the right moment.