Caroline Wonders

Travel means very different things to different people.

Some will only ever do it with friends or loved ones.

Some want everything planned for them so all they have to do is show up and be taken somewhere interesting.

And for others, travel is a strange idea that involves spending a lot of money just to see unfamiliar places and come back home with nothing physical to show for it.

There is a lot of hype around travel — but also a lot of fear.

To some, it feels confusing. Risky. Unnecessary.

For me, travel is much simpler than that.

It is the chance to experience a new place at my own pace, without destroying my bank account.

And to be honest, my bank account is almost always struggling anyway — but I do the best I can with what I have.

I usually travel alone, on a limited budget, with plans that involve walking between places, jogging in the mornings to discover new streets, making friends with locals, hiking to viewpoints, and spending long hours in public libraries where I can read for free.

I look for low-cost ways to experience a place deeply — its people, its culture, its quiet corners.

That is how I discovered backpacking.

And when I say backpacking, I don’t only mean carrying all my belongings in a giant bag — although I’ve done that too.

For me, backpacking is more about the kind of places you stay in: hostels, guesthouses, and lodges with bunk beds, shared kitchens, and common rooms.

Places that are affordable and social.

Before you cringe at the idea of bunk beds on holiday — remember this:

I am someone with very little money and a very big desire to see the world.

Backpacking made that possible.

And when chosen carefully (thank you, online reviews), it has also made me feel safe.

More than that, it has given me some of my most memorable travel moments — even compared to five-star hotels.

And it has introduced me to some of the strangest, funniest, kindest people I’ve ever met.

Like Andrea, the Swiss girl who took me clubbing on Long Street with her boyfriend and treated me like a little sister from day one.

The professional boxer and his girlfriend who hiked Lion’s Head with me, but spent most of the climb fighting about her naked photoshoot and a photographer who was now blackmailing her.

Tomer, the Israeli who shared a bag of mango with me on a bunk bed and had me briefly, dramatically in love.

Aluta from Saldanha, who stole my heart and showed me the best night spots in Cape Town.

A group of friends from Europe and the US with whom I hiked to watch the most beautiful sunrise over the city.

Ludvik, the South African who remains the highlight of my Afriski backpacking trip.

David at Curiocity Durban, who made my friend and me feel welcome — and confused about which one of us he liked more.

A Finnish guy whose name I forgot, but whose jokes I still remember.

Ian, the beautiful Irish man we met only once but never quite stopped wondering about.

The awkward surfer on the top bunk in Durban whose only job seemed to be surfing and hanging up a towel that smelled like the ocean and regret.

Katlego from Soweto, tall and handsome, who makes a very good coffee.

Nayeem from Bangladesh, quiet and reserved, who kept me company at curiocity Joburg while we ate KFC late into the night.

Marta from Barcelona, older, wiser, deeply in love with South Africa and its people.

And most recently, two men who had left their jobs and cities after heartbreak and had been backpacking in Cape Town for over a year, trying to heal and find better lives.

So many people.

So many stories.

So many reasons to travel.

All of them valid.

All of them meaningful.

And if, like me, money is what holds you back…maybe backpacking isn’t a downgrade.

Maybe it’s your way in.

Lessons I Took With Me

1. Backpacking is really about connection, not accommodation

What I remember most isn’t the bunk beds or shared kitchens — it’s the people I met inside them. Backpacking gave me access to stories, laughter, and friendships I never planned for.

2. You don’t need money to have meaningful travel

Walking, talking, hiking, sharing fruit, sitting in common rooms — the best moments cost almost nothing. What matters more is curiosity and the willingness to show up where people gather.

3. Every stranger carries a story worth listening to

From broken hearts to new beginnings, every person I met was travelling for a reason. Travel reminded me that we’re all just moving through the world looking for something — healing, joy, or belonging.