How Travel Shaped the World

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19 Jun 2025

8 Min Read

Ms Dhiya Hikmahana Abdul Razak (Academic Contributor)

IN THIS ARTICLE
Ms Dhiya Hikmahana Abdul Razak

Contributed by Ms Dhiya Hikmahana Abdul Razak, whose research focuses on event management, design, attendee behaviour, and more. She can be reached at dhiyahikmahana.abdulrazak@taylors.edu.my.

It begins not with a destination, but a decision—to move. A step across a riverbed. A trek into the forest. A sail into the unknown. Since the earliest days of human history, movement has been more than just motion; it has been a search for meaning.

 

We have chased survival through deserts guided by stars, sought beauty in distant mountains, and crossed oceans in search of connection. Our methods have changed—from footpaths to flight paths, from compasses to apps—but the impulse has endured. We travel not just to see the world, but to grow within it.

The First Journeys: When Movement Meant Survival

Before travel became a choice, it was a condition of existence. A small group of humans, around 60,000 years ago, stands at the edge of a great savannah. The sun is setting behind them, but ahead lies the unknown—a vast, uncharted world waiting to be discovered. They take a step forward, not out of recklessness, but necessity. That first step beyond the familiar would echo across history.

 

The Ice Age, around 20,000 years ago. A biting wind sweeps across a frozen plain as a scattered band of humans moves slowly through the snow. They are lean, their feet wrapped in scraps of hide, tools lashed to their belts. Every step is a fight against cold, hunger, and time. They search not just for shelter—but for the chance to keep moving, to keep living. Behind them: drought, danger, dwindling food. Ahead: uncertainty, but also hope.

 

These weren’t holidays or pilgrimages—they were urgent, ancestral lifelines etched into the soil of prehistory. These early migrations, some stretching from Africa into Eurasia and beyond, were astonishing feats of endurance and adaptation.

Archaeological excavations man and finds (bones of a skeleton in a human burial)

What we now know from fossil records and genetic tracing is that these early explorers reshaped the world. They discovered rivers, climbed mountains, and crossed continents using nothing but observation and instinct. They travelled light, leaving behind stories, stone tools, and the seeds of civilisation.

The Connected Journeys: When Travel Meant Exchange

As the world settled and societies grew roots, movement didn’t stop—it took on new meaning. No longer just about survival, human journeys became threads of connection stretching across empires, beliefs, and boundaries.

 

Picture the camel caravans winding across the Sahara: long lines of traders cloaked against the sun, pressing forward through the dunes. They carried more than salt, gold, and textiles—they brought news, stories, and songs from distant lands. Beneath their feet, invisible highways of exchange stitched together the ancient world.

Bedouins riding on camels, pyramids on the background, Giza, Egypt

Meanwhile, other journeys carried less gold and more faith. Pilgrims set out towards Mecca, Bodh Gaya, and Santiago de Compostela—not for profit, but for something sacred. With each footstep, they traced spiritual maps across continents, forming paths that would one day become roads. Villages built inns. Communities built hospitals. Civilisations responded to motion.

And still, the pace remained humble. These were not jet-setters—they were walkers, riders, sailors. They travelled with the rhythm of hooves, the flow of wind, and a deep respect for the journey itself. Infrastructure may have grown, but travel remained slow, intimate, and tethered to the land.

The Imperial Journeys: When Travel Meant Power

The 15th century dawned with sails catching the wind in Lisbon, Venice, and Seville. In the West, the Age of Discovery began—not to understand, but to dominate. European powers set out with ambition and astrolabes, seeking land, gold, and glory. Consider Ferdinand Magellan, whose journey to circumnavigate the globe reshaped the world's imagination—at great cost.

Tall Ships in the Last Mists of Morning Fog

Every new voyage left a mark. Forests were felled, ports were seized, peoples were enslaved. These imperial journeys set the stage for an extractive mindset still visible in modern tourism.

Meanwhile, in the East, the Ming Dynasty’s Admiral Zheng He launched grand treasure fleets. Decades before Columbus, Zheng He travelled from China to Africa, not to conquer, but to build alliances and trade networks. His voyages told a different story of power—one shaped more by diplomacy than domination.

The Awakening Journeys: When Travel Faced Its Impact

As overtourism strained historic cities, sacred sites, and fragile ecosystems, a quiet reckoning began. But the pressure extended far beyond crowds and queues. Coral reefs damaged from cruise ship anchors, ancient footpaths eroded under relentless traffic, and traditional neighbourhoods transformed into transient rental zones, pricing out local families.

 

At the same time, the climate cost of travel—from emissions-heavy flights to energy-guzzling resorts—became harder to ignore. What was once celebrated as global mobility now raised urgent questions about sustainability, ethics, and legacy.

Electric city train running on rails above the car traffic from central Copenhagen to the outskirts outside of the city, where forest and nature is found

Travel had to evolve, not only in its form and function, but in its very intent and values. Sustainability shifted from the periphery of conversation to the heart of global policy and personal reflection.

Governments began to act. Bhutan led the way, introducing daily visitor fees to fund conservation efforts and preserve cultural heritage. Amsterdam moved to restrict cruise ships from overwhelming its historic canals, while Japan announced plans to charge a fee and limit daily climbers on Mount Fuji to manage overcrowding and protect the mountain's fragile ecosystem. Around the world, these measures signaled a growing consensus: travel must be reimagined.

 

Technology rose to meet this challenge. Airlines invested in sustainable aviation fuel (SAF) and electric aircraft, while high-speed trains powered by renewable energy became a cleaner alternative. Hotels began phasing out single-use plastics and embracing zero-waste operations. In smaller communities, local guides and businesses championed community-based tourism as a way to empower residents and share authentic experiences. Meanwhile, virtual tours emerged as an alternative—allowing people to explore ancient ruins and museums without ever boarding a plane.

As an events management lecturer, I remind students that travel isn’t just movement—it’s meaning. It reflects our values, ambitions, and the experiences we curate. Through the events we organise, we can inspire future leaders to shape a travel culture that is thoughtful, inclusive, and sustainable—for both people and places.

— Ms Dhiya Hikmahana Abdul Razak

Conclusion

Travel has a way of challenging our assumptions. It immerses us in unfamiliar conversations, flavours, and perspectives that reshape how we see the world—and ourselves. Yet in an era shaped by climate consciousness, even the most personal journeys must be approached with care and responsibility.

 

More than ever, travel is not just a privilege. It is a conscious act. To move through the world today means deciding whether to be a thoughtful guest or a careless consumer. The responsibility lies in leaving each place not only as we found it—but better for our having been there.

As the world rethinks how we move, discover how you can make every journey matter. Join the next generation of conscious tourism leaders with our Bachelor of International Tourism Management.

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