The amount of hassle involved in travel can be overwhelming.

Hear, O traveler of body and soul, the lament of Paul Theroux, who declared: “The amount of hassle involved in travel can be overwhelming.” These words are not merely the sigh of a weary wanderer, but the confession of one who has journeyed through distant lands, who has seen both the beauty of horizons and the burdens of the road. For though the dream of travel glitters with promise, its reality is often weighed down by struggle. To move from one land to another is to wrestle not only with seas and mountains, but with the countless obstacles that stand between desire and fulfillment.

Know this, children of time: the hassle of travel is no new affliction of modern life. In the days of old, caravans were delayed by desert storms, ships were lost to the whims of the ocean, and weary pilgrims trudged through mud, dust, and plague. To move across the earth has always demanded both patience and endurance. What Theroux reveals is the eternal truth that the body may crave adventure, but the path to reach it is paved with trials—delays, discomforts, and endless labors that test the spirit more than the flesh.

Consider the tale of Marco Polo, who left the safety of Venice to traverse the Silk Road. His heart longed for the wonders of the East, yet his journey was no tale of ease. He endured hostile terrain, illness, bandits, and the vast monotony of deserts. The hassle he bore would have broken a weaker soul. Yet it was through that very hardship that he came to behold the magnificence of the Great Khan’s court. His story reminds us that the path of discovery is never smooth, but carved with difficulty, and the greater the obstacle, the greater the treasure at the journey’s end.

And so it is with every traveler: the overwhelming struggle is part of the rite. The crowded stations, the endless waiting, the confusion of languages, the strain of borders and customs—these are the modern equivalents of storms at sea and bandits on the road. They remind us that the act of leaving one’s home is itself a courageous defiance of comfort. The hassle is the guardian at the gate, asking each pilgrim: “Do you truly wish to go on?” Only those who endure it are rewarded with the vision of new lands.

But there is wisdom hidden in this burden. For if every journey were effortless, then travel would cease to change us. It is the very hardship that humbles the traveler, strips away his illusions, and teaches him patience, adaptability, and gratitude. The destination is sweeter because the road was hard. The memory is sharper because it was won with sweat. Theroux, who wandered through jungles, villages, and continents, knew well that the hassle is part of the price paid for the rare jewels of experience.

What then shall we, who hear his words, take as our lesson? It is this: do not be dismayed when the road burdens you. When flights are delayed, when trains are missed, when you are lost among strangers—remember that you are not being punished, but tested. Let the inconvenience forge endurance. Let the irritation give way to patience. Let the chaos teach you to find stillness within. The hassle, overwhelming though it may seem, is part of the initiation into the brotherhood of travelers.

Therefore, O seekers, walk boldly despite the obstacles. Prepare your mind as much as your luggage. Carry not only money and maps, but also fortitude, humility, and humor. In this way, you will not merely endure the hassle of travel—you will transform it into wisdom. And when you return from your journeys, you shall see that the delays, the discomforts, the obstacles, were themselves the hidden teachers that shaped your soul. Thus the road, with all its burdens, becomes not a curse, but a blessing in disguise.