The Inner Monologue

Ah, travel—the great human pastime of exploring new places, meeting interesting people, and being told by everyone back home that you’re absolutely going to die doing it.

You: “I’m heading to Paris!”
Them: “Oh my God, the pickpockets will rob you blind and leave you for dead in the Seine.”

You: “Actually, just got back from Mexico City!”
Them: “You’re lucky to be alive. I heard cartels kidnap tourists for sport.”

You: “Well, next up is a quick trip to Denver.”
Them: “Denver?! Do you have any idea how many people get murdered in Denver?! It’s basically the Purge out there.”

It doesn’t matter where you go—according to the armchair survival experts who haven’t left their hometown since 2007, every destination is a lawless hellscape where tourists are hunted for sport. New York? You’ll be stabbed before you even see Times Square. Italy? The mafia will force-feed you pasta until you burst. Canada? Oh, you sweet summer child—have you seen how aggressive the geese are?!

Meanwhile, Rick Steves—a man who has wandered through more back alleys than your paranoid uncle has driven through Walmart parking lots—has pointed out that of the tens of thousands of people who travel the globe every year, almost all of them come home alive. Statistically, you’re more likely to be killed by your own furniture than by a foreign assassin.

Now, are there places where you actually might get kidnapped, shot, or otherwise inconvenienced in a terminal way? Sure. But those places aren’t Paris, Tokyo, or even Tijuana—they’re the ones your government explicitly tells you to avoid. (And no, Karen, Disney World during spring break doesn’t count.)

So go. Travel. Ignore the people who think the world outside their ZIP code is a Mad Max sequel. The odds are overwhelmingly in your favor that you’ll make it home just fine—unless, of course, you tell them you’re thinking of visiting [insert their own city]. Then, suddenly, that’s the most dangerous place on Earth.

Bottom line: If you only listen to people who never go anywhere, you’ll never go anywhere. And honestly? That’s the real tragedy.