There is a unique magic to backpacking in your twenties. When you’re young, you are rich in the rarest of currencies: time and flexibility. You can arrive in a new country with nothing but a backpack and a vague plan, ready to wing it.
I used to be that independent backpacker. In my twenties, I solo-travelled across South America. It was an era of unforgettable, raw experiences—trekking the iconic Inca Trail, scaling rugged mountain peaks, standing in awe of the unearthly, blinding white expanses of the salt flats, and soaking up the vibrant energy of the beaches in Rio de Janeiro.
But independent solo travel has a flip side.
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