I started this post when I was in Bali sitting by the pool overlooking the rice paddies and tropical paradise which had been our view for the previous week.  Our holiday came to an end and usually around that time I am looking forward to going home.

It was time to pack my bag and go through the hassle of airports and the boredom of a longish flight home.

But, this time I felt different.

I didn’t buy very much, just a little present for my Mum who I think has imagined every possible travelling horror happening to us on a daily basis, and has called to check we are okay and not drinking the water!

What is different is that I am not recounting the bargain purchases, or luxury accommodation or new tan, but remembering the relationships I have experienced with the people, their culture and their country.

We danced the dance many times by driving our rented car around the towns and through the country as I described in my post Better Driving or Dancing.  We saw where the weavers make their thatch roofs, the silvers smiths make jewellery, the carvers carve and the people live in their often very modest homes.

I returned home with many gifts given to me by the people of Bali, gifts that they gave me for free, I didn’t have to ask them, I only had to notice.

• I receive a large package of humility for not appreciating my life so much.
• I received the understanding of another language which although barely enough, was more than I had ever used before.
• I received smile, after smile, after smile from happy locals who returned every wave.
• I received patience, in driving and in waiting for others who were in a hurry.
• I received the joy of generosity, that I demonstrated.
• I received the appreciation of people worshiping.
• I received the gift of time.

I think most of all I received a knowledge that my life is privileged (see Better being privileged post), often excessive, often angry and often the minutes are wasted on things that really, really don’t matter.

In the future my wife and I have decided to be ‘discoverers’ and not tourists.  We want to be travellers and adventurers, not the bungie jumping sort of adventure, but the adventure you have when being with other, different people you can make wonderful discoveries.

A smart young man named James Castrission who was the first person to cross the Tasman Sea from Australia to New Zealand in a kayak, I think summed up adventure and possibly even tourism if you think about it the right way, by saying:

“Adventure is not about being the first person to cross an ocean or the first person to climb a mountain.  Adventure is what happens with the internal growth within:  It’s about pushing your personal boundaries to places that you wouldn’t normally be in, in normal society.  Then coming back and being able to lead a life richer because of this.”

Maybe when we look at it like this, a tourist becomes an adventurer when they come home with more than cheap T-shirts, stubbie holders, a tan and sunset photographs.  Maybe a tourist is always an adventurer if they just take the time to notice, to enrich their own lives, with the lives of the people who live where they are visiting.

I know one thing, I will be a better adventurer.