Artist & Author Joakim Lloyd Raboff

Here’s an essay I wrote for a travel page dedicated to people over 60, retirees and older folks that love to travel or have the ambition of doing so.

So I’m up north now for a few days, hiking in one of my favorite places in the world, Abisko National Park, way above the Arctic Circle in Swedish Lapland. As the crow flies, my current location is not too far away from where Norway, Finland, and Sweden converge.

I’m staying at Abisko Mountain Lodge where the rustic and extraordinary atmosphere makes the hotel an ideal base for short and longer hikes in the stunning and unseasonably warm fall weather we’ve been gifted with right now. My fellow guests and I are being wonderfully pampered by the hotel’s friendly team and they’re serving one delicious meal after another.

I don’t know about y’all, but I find myself choosing where I want to travel increasingly based on how delicious the food is going to be there. Last night I started with a tender- crunchy Moose Tartar, a densely lean Smoked Arctic Char and finally a perfectly portioned dessert called Broken Dreams with crunchy cookies, blueberry jam, rhubarb and a generous scoop of ice cream.

Unsurprisingly, the consistently delicious food, wine and superb service make the restaurant here a destination in itself. Of course, this particular lodge’s exotic location in northernmost Scandinavia certainly adds an additional layer to the “pièce de résistance”.

I was here in the winter of 2022 and the relaxed vibe is as charming and comfortable as it was then. This is one of those rare hotels you feel reluctant about having to leave.

In addition to hiking, I’m also here to take in the gorgeous autumn foliage, breathe crisp, fresh Arctic air, and recharge my soul with purpose and passion.

To live is to travel. To travel is to live.

A few years ago, an otherwise kind and friendly neighbor asked me why I travel so much and why I don’t get tired of it.

I have to admit that I was taken aback by her blunt question. I answered without much hesitation and without any intention to provoke, (well, maybe just a little), why she doesn’t travel more and how she avoids getting bored staying at home so much – doing more or less the same things day in and day out.

She didn’t have an answer but the somewhat terse exchange got me thinking…why do I travel so much? As strange as it sounds, up to that point, I hadn’t put my modus operandi into words.

Was I constantly running from something or just chronically traveling to the next place? Turns out that I prioritize travel not because it’s an escape from reality, but because, with each trip, I reaffirm the undeniable truth that I find being on the road exciting, inspiring, and life-embracing. Life at home, on the other hand, while comfortable and safe, gets far too predictable. Eventually, as I’m sure the late and great Tony Bourdain would agree, without travel, the homestead becomes soul-crushingly boring.

A long time ago, probably when I was about 25, I had a profound insight that has since never really left me. See, I realized that since there is only one planet that I can explore and that until someone provides solid evidence of an afterlife or reincarnation, how can I not want to travel as much as possible during my relatively short time alive, meet new people and experience the almost incredible diversity Earth has to offer?

Yes, I get that it can be scary to leave the comfort of home and the reassuring predictability daily routines provide. To many, even more frightening is the concept of solo travel, which I certainly can empathize with, especially for women. While just thinking of visiting a new city or traveling around a new country gets me exhilarated, I do grasp how this can also be an emotionally overwhelming exercise that some just choose not to engage in.

We are all different and who the hell am I to judge, right? To each his/her own. For whatever reason, I know that far from everyone can travel as much as they want to. But as long as I can afford to and politics or health don’t hinder me, I’m going to keep on keepin’ on. If you know what I mean.

Back to my inquisitive neighbor.

The simplest answer, for me anyway is that at 61, challenging myself with trips keeps me awake, alert, and alive. I have zero scientific proof that my travels are in any way suppressing symptoms of old age or stopping the physical deterioration or the onset of dementia that theoretically could start manifesting itself any day now.

But I feel unscientifically confident it is staving off some of the aging stuff.

What I do know for sure is that my adventures help keep me sharp and in shape – and above all – encourage me to prioritize rich experiences over material wealth.

I’ve worked professionally as a visual artist, photojournalist, and writer. But even before that part of my life, I was constantly on the move, curious, restless, and venturesome.

I guess you could say that my addiction to traveling began after two-month-long Inter Rail tours of Europe in the early 1980s. With the confidence those trips gave me, I flew straight to the relentless chaos and colorful cacophony of Southeast Asia.

At the time, most of my friends had either begun a long stoic trek along their career paths or, they were still stuck in college, amassing student loan debt and both eyes set on suburbia’s reasonably rational and calculable life. A couple of these old buddies have since retired and they’re now discovering how inspiring and rejuvenating independent traveling can be.

Serendipity. Oh, how I love you!

What to some might seem counter-intuitive, I decided early on that planning too much ahead of my trips would just hamstring spontaneity and leave me longing for more of the unexpected. By giving serendipity more or less free rein (within reason to avoid inviting total chaos and catastrophes), so much interesting stuff has happened along my less-trodden trails.

Serendipity has been my mantra and guiding star throughout life on the road. To embrace chance as much as possible and trust that things will work out and that most people are actually good-natured and non-violent – which is my experience from 40+ years of traveling on four continents. That’s not to say I haven’t come across my fair share of hustlers, hucksters, and hooligans. For that I have.

So, I am not careless but also not overly cautious or so worried that I turn down the opportunity to embark on a new adventure. Above all, I try to always show respect for local people, their customs, and cultural expressions with the lofty ambition of being a good “ambassador” for both my gender, my country and for what I consider to be some kind of universal civility.

Purpose and Passion.

These days, as I travel, I bring along a purpose that reaches beyond what I see, smell, feel, and taste. As I have a passion for writing and putting my loosely generated thoughts into coherent words, essays, and the occasional book, I always have a few creative projects stored in my backpack.

I started writing my latest book, a comprehensive guide about the under-discussed topic of male aging, on the beautiful island of Rhodes shortly after I turned 60 last year. As it happened, I completed it at the very same Greek hotel some eight months later.

I am currently working on two new books, a memoir of sorts with the provisional title “Before I Forget…” and a book about fears and phobias. I sincerely hope to dedicate some serious time to writing both while on the road this fall. Regardless of whether or not my books find any readers, the process itself has added so much value to my life. To me, writing doesn’t come easy. On contraire, it’s hard as hell. But it’s also a terrific mental workout.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for taking the time to do so, and even if you don’t agree with everything you’ve just read, I still hope you found some of my thoughts challenging if not inspiring.

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