The Road as Rite: How Travel Changed Me Forever
Somewhere between the back alleys of Bangkok and the bamboo hills of northern Laos, I lost something. Or maybe I found it. Myself, perhaps? Or the self I used to be. Either way, I never came home the same.
Caption: From the Killing Field in Cambodia. My first long journey to Asia in 2005 totally change me as a person. I lost my old self and discovered a new version of who I am. Photo: Frank Hansen
For twenty years now, I’ve wandered in and out of Asia — sometimes with a camera, often with a notebook collecting travel stories, but always with a question. Many think that travel is a form of escape, but I think this interpretation is wrong in most cases. Along the way, I’ve come to understand that travel isn’t escape. It’s initiation. It’s deep healing. It’s a rite of passage.
The Theory of the Threshold
Dutch anthropologist Arnold van Gennep coined the term rites de passage to describe the ceremonial transitions we make from one phase of life to another: birth, adolescence, marriage, death. Each rite, he said, follows three stages: separation, liminality, and reintegration. You leave the known, dwell in the unknown, and return transformed.
Sound familiar? That’s travel. That’s every journey worth taking.
Into the Forest
In traditional societies, rites of passage are serious business. Among many Indigenous groups, boys are sent into the forest — alone — to confront their fears, survive the wild, and come back changed. It’s not only symbolic. It’s real. The forest becomes the threshold between childhood and adulthood.
And isn’t that what happens when we travel, too?
We leave home, wander foreign landscapes (often internal as much as external), and confront discomfort, uncertainty, wonder. We lose our bearings. Our routines. Our control. And if we’re lucky, we find something better than a selfie or a souvenir: we find new eyes.
2005: I met this monk at Angkor Wat in Cambodia. He told me that “we must learn to be calm inside, even when it is storming outside”. That stuck with me. Photo: Frank Hansen
My First Journey: A Before and After Story
When I first travelled to Asia twenty years ago, I thought I was going on a holiday, but ended up on a backpacking trip to Thailand , Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia and Indonesia. But it was like going into a magical machine and I came back someone else. I remember, in the beginning, I had to look at myself in the mirror and ask “who am I, really?”
People didn’t recognize me. Old friends drifted away. New ones arrived. I talked less and listened more. I realized that values are not universal, but situational — rooted in climate, culture, and necessity.
I learned that empathy isn’t optional; it’s essential. That the Western idea of cultures arranged in a hierarchy — from primitive to advanced — is both false and harmful. No culture is “behind.” Each one is simply calibrated to its own environment, its own logic.
And above all, especially after time spent in Buddhist regions, I learned something so simple it sounds almost silly. That kindness — basic, everyday, quiet kindness — is the highest value on Earth. Not intelligence. Not strength. Not ambition. Just a good heart.
Caption: experiences such as this change you on a fundamental level. There are many ways, but only one main road that all should follow, and that´s the road of kindness. Photo: Frank Hansen
You Never Return the Same
Like those boys who go into the forest and come back men, we never return from real journeys unchanged. In my opinion, this is what distinguishes the journey from the holiday. They are significantly different in nature. There’s always something we leave behind after a journey — a version of ourselves, a belief, a fear.
And maybe that’s the point. Maybe we travel not to find places, but to shed skins. For me, my first trip even led to education as social anthropologist because of my fascination with other cultures and social life in other countries.
So don’t be surprised if the next time you get back from a trip, you feel a little off. That’s not jet lag. That’s transformation.
Frank Hansen
Norwegian writer, traveller, and anthropologist with P.hD. He’s the voice behind frankinasia.com – a personal, curious and slightly philosophical travel site. Frank blends humor with insight, always chasing the deeper story behind the tuk-tuk ride, the temple silence, the awkward smile at a border crossing. He’s swapped office lights for Asian sunsets, and never looked back.