One thing I’ve realised over the years is that my travel style doesn’t stay still — it evolves. Slowly, sometimes unexpectedly, but very clearly.
In my 20s, I was perfectly happy with the bare minimum: a bed in a hostel, long journeys as long as they were cheap, whatever food I could find, and as many activities as I could squeeze into a trip.
And then… I turned 30.
Nothing dramatic happened. No sudden transformation.
But somewhere along the way, I started wanting something different.
A private room, a comfortable seat on a train, local food, but also the occasional slightly more elevated dinner.
Better gear. Better experiences. A bit more ease.
Not necessarily luxury — just… better.
Solo Travel After 30: What Actually Changes
From Hostels to Hotels (and No Regrets)
Hostels had their moment — and honestly, they were great for what they were.
They made travel accessible. They made it possible to go further and stay longer. And sometimes, they gave you experiences you wouldn’t have had otherwise.
I met a really good friend in a hostel in Beijing purely because we were in the same dorm.
I stayed in a surprisingly good one in Shanghai (a curtain around the bed felt like peak luxury at the time).
And there was that one in Bangkok where I somehow had the entire dorm and a private bathroom to myself — truly a once-in-a-lifetime hostel experience.
But things change.
These days, I value things a little differently: privacy, cleanliness, comfort… and quiet.
I travel slower now, and I’ve realised how much of a difference a good night’s sleep makes. Having your own space at the end of the day is no longer a “nice to have” , it's part of the experience.
That said, it’s not always glamorous.
There was that bungalow on Koh Lanta where I tried to save money and ended up being sick in very basic conditions — not my finest decision.
And then there are the wins, like Green Tiger House, with a peaceful mountain view and a breakfast so good it almost converted me into a breakfast person.
Almost.
Slower Days, Better Days
In my 20s, I wanted to see everything.
Packed itineraries, early mornings, multiple stops in a single day (I was fully committed). And honestly? It was fun. It was worth it.
I didn’t mind tours that stopped three or four times before reaching the actual destination (hello, Great Wall of China), or long walking tours that covered half a city in a few hours.
Now? I still enjoy a good, busy day — but I equally appreciate doing… less.
A slower morning. A café stop that turns into a few hours. A walk with no real destination.
And when I do book tours, I’m a bit more selective.
I’d rather choose something well-organised, informative, and focused, something that actually adds to the experience instead of just filling time.
Quality Over Cheap (Within Reason)
This one feels like a natural shift.
When you can afford it, you start choosing quality over the cheapest option available.
Better accommodation.
More convenient transport.
Direct flights when possible.
And gear that actually works.
I think back to my first backpacking trip — I used an old rucksack from summer camp 10 years prior and a pair of very questionable trainers. How everything survived that trip is still a mystery.
My wardrobe back then? Mostly gym clothes. Practical, yes. Stylish… debatable.
Since then, I’ve definitely upgraded.
I’ve invested in bags that are comfortable and durable, tested different shoes until I found what works, and learned (through trial, error, and a lot of sweating) that linen and cotton are your best friends in hot climates.
I’ve also discovered how much of a difference small things make:
having an eSIM ready when you land
using the right apps
learning a few basic words in the local language
They don’t sound like much, but they can completely change how smooth a trip feels.
Final Thoughts
Travelling in my 20s taught me how to be flexible, resourceful, and open to anything.
Travelling in my 30s is teaching me how to be more intentional with my time, my energy, and the kind of experiences I want.
It’s not about doing less or more. It’s about doing what actually feels good.
And if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed?
It’s still that same excitement before a trip — just with slightly better shoes and a much stronger appreciation for a comfortable bed.