Flashpacking at 50 is not about pretending I am still twenty. It is about keeping the parts of backpacking I have always loved: travelling independently, deciding plans on the road, talking to people and staying longer when somewhere feels right. What I have happily left behind is the idea that discomfort is proof of adventure.
When I was in my twenties, I travelled through Ireland with a small daypack, a rain jacket, a change of clothes, a passport and an Edding for hitchhiking signs. It was a different time, and it suited me perfectly. Today, I still want the freedom of an unplanned route. But I also want a proper bed, a decent shower and luggage that does not punish my back before I have reached the interesting part of the journey.
The freedom I kept from backpacking
The essential thing was never the small budget or the sleeping bag. It was the way of travelling. Backpacking taught me that the most memorable days are not always the ones I had scheduled. They are the days when I followed a recommendation, changed the plan because a place deserved more time, or simply let a conversation point me in a different direction.
That is still how I like to travel. I do research before leaving home, of course. But I do not want every meal, transfer and afternoon accounted for in advance. I want room for the restaurant someone tells me about, for a market I did not know was there and for the option of staying another night when a city has more to say.
That openness is also why I prefer a few nights in one place to hopping from sight to sight. Four or five nights gives a destination the chance to become familiar. I can find my coffee, take a second walk through the same street and decide that one museum is enough for the day. This is not seeing less. It is seeing with more attention.
What I happily left behind
Carrying everything on my back
I still travel with a rucksack for the day. It is useful, comfortable and makes a city or a long transfer easier. But for a longer trip, I no longer see carrying a backpack as a badge of honour. I use an Osprey Sojourn: a wheeled travel pack that can also be carried on the back when stairs, rough ground or a quick connection make that necessary. It suits the way I now travel far better than a traditional trekking pack.
It is not a recommendation to buy exactly the same bag. The useful question is simpler: can my luggage cope with the trip I have planned, and can I cope with it? The current Osprey Sojourn range is one example of why wheels and a proper harness no longer have to be opposites.
The cheapest possible transport
There was a time when the cheap, albeit uncomfortable bus was all I could afford and thus became part of the journey. These days I am very happy to choose the first-class sleeper instead: a little privacy, air conditioning, a bed and the luxury of arriving ready to enjoy the next place. In Thailand, the night train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai showed me exactly that. I did not lose any sense of independence by travelling more comfortably. I gained a whole day at the other end.
Street food every night
I still love eating where the locals eat, whether that means a market stall, a tiny noodle shop or something I would never have ordered at home by asking locals for the name of what’s on their plate and ordering the same. But I also like sitting down in a beautiful restaurant, having a glass of wine and ordering the thing I really fancy. Flashpacking leaves room for both. It is about choice, not rules.
Comfort is not the opposite of curiosity
I do not think comfort makes a journey less real. The opposite is often true. When I have slept well, am not worrying about my shoulders and have allowed enough time, I am more interested in what is around me. I will walk further, stay later and say yes more easily to the small detours that make a trip personal.
There are still practical things I carry because they have earned their place: a small daypack, a light scarf, a rain cover, a power bank, proper sunglasses and shoes that work for a long day without looking like hiking equipment. The point is not to pack for every emergency. It is to pack for the sort of journey I actually want to have.
Flashpacking at 50 means travelling on my own terms
For me, flashpacking at 50 means keeping the curiosity and letting go of the performance. I do not need to prove that I can get by with less sleep, a worse connection or a more complicated route. I want to be independent, surprised and open to the world – and I want to enjoy the hotel, the train ride and dinner when I get there.
That is the same principle behind my guide to solo travel in Cologne: choose the practical details well enough that the day is free for the interesting ones. Backpacking changed how I travel. Flashpacking simply lets the good parts grow up with me.
