Backpacking is not for everyone: living on what you can carry, each day at a time, with no reliable sleep or meals. Nevertheless, for some of us it really clicks, it is the time of your life, and then one day it’s over. I have written at length about some of the fantastic experiences I had over those six months away and will doubtless continue to drag out as much material as possible from them; however, this is about what happens afterwards. I came back, having to live again with my parents for a while, having to find a new job and start again from the beginning, as any travellers have to do after a long time away. This is not to whine, I have been very lucky to have had this chance and for things to have worked out, but it is an experience I know others have had, so it is worth sharing.
Normal life, as you might know it, is a lot more complicated than backpacking. Waking up in a strange hostel bed, in a new country, with countless things to see and decisions to make, all sounds complex, but it is really not. All your things fit into one or two bags: you check each day to make sure you have them, you have money and you are alive. That is all that matters, everything else is a bonus. I never wondered if I had anything: I knew exactly where I was, what I had, what I needed: the priorities were totally clear. 
Back at home I have so much stuff, but never use most of it, I need something but can’t find it, and I don’t know what I want to do with it. Living with so little is so simple, it removes the persistent ambiguity of everyday life. With simplicity comes clarity: I knew what I needed to do each day, I made a plan for where I wanted to go, self-motivation was never an issue. Not to mention things like diet and exercise: you don’t have to think about them when you are walking at least a dozen miles a day and you eat what food you can get when the opportunity arises. Suddenly I have to plan, to think about when and what I eat, to choose what I do with my time and motivate myself to do things. It requires a lot more mental energy and entails a lot more self-doubt.
Human beings love ‘doing things’: learning and interaction, we constantly crave new stuff, information, conversation. This is why people check their phones repeatedly and the internet is awash with chances to listen to opinions, to be shown things and to interact with others and yet we all feel it is ultimately unsatisfying. This problem does not exist while backpacking. 
There are so many things to see each day, so many new places to go and people to meet, there is no end of potential ‘content’ to ‘consume’. Similar to being at university, there are usually a bunch of like-minded people staying in the same place as you, meeting someone new and starting a unique conversation is just a matter of saying ‘Hi’. I may use terms like ‘returning to real life’, but it is backpacking that feels more natural. The human brain thrives on new experiences and interactions, making ‘normal life’ feel like solitary confinement: neglecting our true skills.
However, the hardest part is not the ambiguity, the lack of motivation or stimulation, the hardest part is not with the world around you, the hardest part is what has changed within you. When we travel, we look for moments of inspiration, wonder or excitement, some people even want to ‘find themselves’. Regardless, you get so many special moments, that make you appreciate the world we live in and the people we share it with and that subtly changes you as a human. It might inspire you to create, or help those who need it, or just be a kinder person: but that change is in you alone. You come back from travelling feeling different, and this is indulged for a while: everyone wants to hear your stories. Then it’s back to ‘normal’. For fans of the Harry Potter books, it is like the long stretches of the summer holidays in the novels: Harry is important at Hogwarts, he has great friends and achieves great things. He learns and grows. Then he is back with the Dursleys, they treat him the same and his specialness goes as the people around him aren’t appreciating it. 
Very quickly it feels like travelling was a dream. This is coming back from travelling: you feel different inside, you have learned new skills and improved as a person, but everyone treats you the same. You begin to doubt it happened, that the much more capable, ambitious, confident, outgoing and friendly person was even you. What is the point of a life changing experience, if life itself doesn’t change?
It has been three months now, since I returned home. It hasn’t been all bad, I’ve seen a lot of my friends and I have finally got a job, one that I actually want. But I miss it, the backpacking. If I could afford it, I don’t think I’d stop. Coping with poor sleep, lack of possessions and consistent discomfort is easy when you have fun people to meet and great places to see. 
Its why so many people who travel for months just want to get back out there. If you know anyone who’s been travelling for a long time, here is how you can help: give them a challenge, ask them for help or pitch them a new idea. We’re fighters, keen to try new things and prove ourselves, always seeking change and challenge. We desperately want to break through the mundanity of ‘reality’ and be a little mental, because life does feel the same when we come back, but we don’t want it to.
Running out of Steam 