The Quantity vs. Quality Debate

Do I check off the must-see places, one by one? Or do I give up the list to travel and live more deeply?

My island obsession

I have a thing for islands. The one thing about islands is there are a lot of them. It’s pretty easy to develop a massive ‘must do’ list when you have an island obsession.

That’s a serious quantity problem.

Over the last few years I’ve been thinking about the Shetlands, the Orkneys, the Faroe Islands, the Isle of Man, the Galapagos, Madagascar, Svalbard and Greenland – you see what I mean?

I’ve been to Iceland, the Falklands, Cuba, and Prince Edward Island, to name a few. Find me a piece of land surrounded by ocean, and I’m interested.

If I’m going to satisfy my obsession with islands, my travel is going to be focussed on quantity. And I’m going to have to move quickly. At 57, I’ve likely still got decades to travel, but there are no guarantees.

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Falling in love with a place

I was born in the Northwest Territories in the sub-Arctic region of Canada. All around me were people who came to the north on a visit or a short contract to work, and then they never left. They fell in love with the place. They did everything they could to stay there.

That is one level of commitment to a place; a determination to immerse oneself in one location.

When I visit other places in the world, the thought often passes through my mind – I could live here. Sometimes I say it out loud. My partner rolls his eyes. I have said it before.

Living like a local

I have always wanted to live, at least for a time, in another country and to learn to live in another language. My partner is not interested in this lifestyle choice. I’ve accepted that.

The closest we have gotten to my dream of living elsewhere was the 3 summers we spent in Europe when our daughter was a pre-teen. We would stay for up to 3 weeks at a time in home exchanges, living as close to local as we could. We lived in real neighbourhoods, were responsible for dealing with the recycling, for example, and we cooked all our meals with food purchased in the stores down the street.

We did 9 exchanges in 7 countries those summers, and we loved it! I was never ready to leave when it was time to go. I revelled in the sense that we were ‘living there’, not just visiting there.

Island hopping — quantity over quality

One winter when I felt desperate to get away from the cold we booked our first cruise – 14 days island hopping in the Caribbean. I think we visited 9 islands. I have trouble naming them, off the top of my head. And I can’t really remember too many specific details about most of them.

While the warmth of those 14 days and the comforts of the ship were the perfect balm to my soul that winter, landing daily on a new island was overwhelming for me. I got quantity, but very little quality.

Although, as an aside, after visiting Dominica, the least developed and least visited of the 9 islands, I started down one of my ‘I could live here’ junkets. I researched and read. I dreamed of a different life. Spoiler alert – I did not retire to Dominica.

What is the ‘right’ way to travel, for me?

There are so many ways to see the world. So many styles of travel. Everything from chasing the latest Instagram photos to ex pat living. There are fulltime nomads moving both fast and slow. There are ‘snowbirds’; people from cold countries that avoid the winter months by flying south. And there are adventure travellers trying to get to as many countries as they can.

I’m trying to figure out what makes sense for me for the next 20 years or so. Will I focus on quantity or quality?

In my writing here I have often referred to my ‘life changing’ trip to Perú this spring. It was life-changing because it was there that I started to question how I was travelling and why I was travelling. That trip also made it clear to me that this is what I want to do with my life; I want to see and experience new things. I want to live without regret.

But here is the other thing that became clear to me. At least for now, travelling on the surface, doing the ‘touristy things’ is not for me. Skimming along without a deeper understanding does not feel meaningful to me.

Seeing the sights isn’t enough. Being able to say ‘I’ve been there’ isn’t enough.

I actually want to spend the time to learn, understand, listen and have my mind changed.

I’m taking a hard turn towards quality. I know this means that there are many, many places on my ‘list’ that I will not get to, and that’s okay.

I wonder if you’ve thought about this dilemma. What side are you on? And how do you define quality?

Here’s another piece that I posted this summer about my travel dilemma.

I’d like to invite you to join me at Jumble of Sea Glass

This is where you’ll find more musings, soul searchings and other occasional silliness of a non-travel nature. Here’s what I was talking about this week.

Everything, but not enough

In case you missed it….

Also check out the comment section in the post below for some great discussion. Here’s a sample:

Kelly of Benthall Slow Travel said

“This resonated deeply. The ‘traveller’s paradox’ is exactly what I’ve been circling in my own writing – how movement expands us even as it unsettles. The more we see, the more responsibility we inherit. I’ve learned that awareness doesn’t ruin travel; it refines it. Seeing beauty and impact side by side is what makes the journey honest – and human.”

Dave Paquiot of The Marginal Pilgrims said

“I love how you resist the easy narratives of ‘transformational travel’ and instead sit with unease – the moral static between wonder and consequence. That line, ‘Everything is both push and pull,’ perfectly captures the paradox of loving the world while knowing our footprints reshape it. Thank you for reminding us that discomfort isn’t failure; it’s the sign we’re still awake.”

Thank you for spending your time here. I appreciate your support.

JL Orr

Okanagan Valley, British Columbia, Canada