You do not travel if you are afraid of the unknown, you travel

The words of Ella Maillart, traveler, adventurer, and seeker of horizons, are filled with the spirit of fire and truth: “You do not travel if you are afraid of the unknown, you travel for the unknown, that reveals you with yourself.” In these words lies not only the essence of wanderlust, but the essence of life itself. For to move beyond the familiar is not merely to cross lands and seas, but to cross the boundaries of fear, to embrace mystery, and to meet the hidden depths of one’s own soul.

The ancients knew this truth well. They honored the unknown, not as an enemy, but as a teacher. When Odysseus set sail from Ithaca, he did not know the monsters or storms that lay before him. Yet it was precisely in meeting the unexpected that he became who he was—a man tempered by trial, revealed to himself through hardship and wonder. So too does Maillart remind us that the true purpose of travel is not comfort, nor the safe repetition of what we already know, but the confrontation with strangeness, which strips away illusions and unveils the self.

Consider the life of Christopher Columbus, who in 1492 dared to cross an ocean vast and uncharted. He could not know what lands awaited, what dangers lurked, or whether he would return at all. Many feared the voyage, whispering of sea monsters and endless abysses. But he sailed nonetheless, and in doing so revealed not only new continents to the world, but new truths to himself. Though his legacy is shadowed by conquest and cruelty, the lesson remains: only those willing to embrace the unknown can carve new paths in the world and in their own being.

The meaning of the quote is thus clear: fear confines, but the unknown liberates. To shrink back is to remain forever a prisoner of the known, bound to the small circle of certainty. But to travel toward mystery is to step into a larger life, where each horizon reveals another, and each challenge peels away the false masks we wear. The road does not simply show us new landscapes—it shows us the truth of who we are, whether strong or fragile, bold or timid, faithful or doubtful.

Yet we must remember, the unknown is not always found in distant deserts or seas. It may be found in a new conversation, a new friendship, a new act of courage taken close to home. The spirit of travel is not bound to distance but to openness. Whoever opens their heart to the unfamiliar is a traveler, even if their feet do not leave their homeland. What Maillart proclaims is that it is the posture of courage, not the miles, that determines whether a journey reveals the self.

The lesson for us is powerful: do not flee the unknown, but seek it out. Let fear be your signal that something important waits beyond the veil. When opportunities arise to go where you have not gone, to speak where you have not spoken, to face what you have not faced—take them. For it is there, in the wilderness of the untried, that you will meet yourself as if for the first time.

Thus, let these words be handed down: The true traveler is not he who goes the farthest, but he who dares the most into the unknown. Do not let your life shrink into a cage of the familiar. Step boldly into strangeness, and there you will discover the hidden face of your own soul. For the unknown is not your enemy—it is your mirror, revealing to you the truth of who you are, and who you may yet become.