How expensive is it to travel to every country?

How much does it cost to go to every country?

$200,000? Hah. Bare bones. Try sleeping on park benches in Norway. That “bare bones” budget omits the crucial stuff. Visas. Jabs. Unexpected mishaps. $200,000 won’t cut it. It’s a starting point, maybe. For a student backpacking trip across Southeast Asia. Not the whole world.

$350,000 to $500,000 feels more like it. Mid-range, they call it. A decent hotel room in Tokyo. A plate of pasta in Rome. A ticket to a show in Buenos Aires. Still budget travel. It won’t get you first class. Or Michelin stars. Think about it. 195 countries. Let’s say $2500 per country, conservatively. Boom, there’s your half a million. What does this all mean? How much is an experience really worth?

Millions for luxury? Right. Private jets to Monaco. Safari in Kenya. Five-star hotels in Dubai. I mean, who wouldn’t want that? Some people collect stamps. Others collect countries. Different strokes, am I right? I once spent $10 on a bowl of soup in Iceland. Worth it? Totally.

• $200,000: Totally unrealistic starting point. Excludes essential costs.
• $350,000-$500,000: More realistic. Mid-range. Think comfort, not luxury.
• Millions: Luxury travel. Think private jets, not budget airlines. Like mine to Denver last year.

Things change. Currencies fluctuate. Economies tank. The price of a baguette in Paris isn’t static. Neither is the cost of exploring our world. So, plan for more. Expect the unexpected. Or stay home. Your choice. Last year my trip to Peru cost, uh, well let’s not talk about it.

Has anyone been to all 195 countries?

Pedersen. Denmark. No flights. 195 countries. Pointless. Still, he did it. Land and sea. A human compulsion. Why? Who knows. Earth, a small place. We fill it with meaning. Or try to. Borders. Imaginary lines. He crossed them all. No wings. Just wheels and keels. Years wasted? Or invested? Perspective. It’s everything. Done now. What next? Another pointless goal? Probably.

• Torbjørn Pedersen (Thor): The actual name. From Denmark.
• 2013 – 2023: Ten years. A decade circling the globe.
• No Flights: The core rule. Self-imposed limitations. Odd.
• Surface Travel: Trains, buses, cargo ships. Slow. Deliberate.
• Red Cross Global Journey: A humanitarian aspect. Adds a layer. Doesn’t change the core.
• Once Upon A Saga: His project name. Pretentious? Maybe.
• 195 Sovereign Nations: According to the UN. The accepted list. Though contested.
• Logistics: Visas, funding, health. The tedious details. Always overshadow the grand narrative. Always.

The world keeps spinning. Regardless.

Is it possible to go to every country in the world?

Yes, absolutely possible. If money and time grew on trees. Like, my neighbor’s relentlessly shedding maple.

Visas? A charming bureaucratic obstacle course. Think Indiana Jones, but with more paperwork and less snakes (hopefully!). Obtaining visas is key, albeit tedious.

Expensive? Oh, just a tad. Think “buying a small island” expensive. Plane tickets alone could fund a small nation’s infrastructure. Budget like you’re funding a global expedition.

Unsafe countries? Well, there’s a reason James Bond gets paid the big bucks. Research? Vital. Ignorance is not bliss when you’re visiting geopolitical hotspots. Safety first, always a good plan.

Transportation, food, accommodation? From five-star suites to questionable street food…prepare for a sensory overload, and maybe pack some antacids. Expect the unexpected, that’s the real adventure.

• Visa applications are like scavenger hunts.
• Budgeting? More like alchemy.
• Travel insurance? Non-negotiable.
• Learn basic phrases. “Where’s the bathroom?” is universally useful.
• Pack light! You’re not moving in.

Right, gotta go feed my cat, Professor Whiskers, who’s probably plotting his own global takeover. Meow.

How much money do you need to constantly travel?

So, you wanna globe-trot like a seasoned pro, huh? Forget that “impossible to give a single number” nonsense. I’ll give you numbers. Prepare for sticker shock, though, it’s brutal out there.

Budget backpacking: Think ramen noodles and questionable shower facilities. $1,500-$3,000 a month. You’ll be sharing beds with strangers who snore louder than a freight train. This is what my cousin Doug did. Total disaster.

Mid-range: Think slightly less questionable shower facilities, perhaps. $3,000-$6,000 a month. It’s like a decent hotel. That’s what I’d hope for, if I could manage it.

Luxury: Forget showers, darling. You’re getting a private masseuse in your private, luxurious bathroom. We’re talking $10,000+ a month. Private jets. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams. My rich aunt Mildred does this.

Factors that’ll kill your budget faster than a cheap motel Wi-Fi:

• Location: Europe? Cheapish. Maldives? Prepare for your bank account to cry. Seriously, my credit card wept.
• Pace: Are you a slow traveler, soaking up the culture like a sponge? Or are you bouncing between cities faster than a caffeinated squirrel? That makes a big difference.
• Personal Preference: Do you drink $30 cocktails daily, or do you stick with the tap water? Big. Difference.

In short: Prepare to mortgage your grandma’s house. Or maybe two. Unless you’re super frugal, and, I mean really frugal – like, surviving on air and good vibes frugal. Then, maybe you can get by on less. But don’t count on it. My uncle, bless his frugal heart, he tried and still had to borrow money from his dog walker.

What constitutes a round the world ticket?

So, you wanna globe-trot like a seasoned pro? A round-the-world ticket, my friend, is your magic carpet ride – except instead of genies, you’ve got grumpy flight attendants. It’s basically a single itinerary that lets you spin the globe like a drunken top.

Key things to know:

• It’s not a free-for-all: Think of it as a super-expensive Choose Your Own Adventure book, with limited choices. You’re not hopping on any random flight to Narnia, pal.
• Airlines are in cahoots: Big airlines, like some kind of secret society, team up to offer these, creating a web of complicated routes. It’s like a cosmic game of telephone for frequent fliers.
• Mileage matters: These tickets aren’t cheap. We’re talking seriously expensive. Think mortgage-level expensive, maybe even more. Expect a dent in your bank account bigger than the Grand Canyon.
• 2023 Update: Forget the old ways, now these things are mostly sold by online travel agencies. It’s like a digital marketplace for wanderlust.

My buddy Dave tried one last year. He ended up in Uzbekistan because his app crashed. True story. Also, my Aunt Mildred got stuck in Fiji because of a volcano. Not so funny for her, hilarious for me.

It’s like winning the lottery, except instead of millions, you get a whirlwind adventure and a mountain of airline miles, probably more stress too. It’s a beautiful, chaotic mess. Basically, a really expensive and complicated way to see the world. Get ready for delays, missed connections, and unexpected layovers in places you never even heard of. Think of it as a really expensive scavenger hunt, with your sanity as the prize.

What is the best direction to fly around the world?

East, I guess.

Why east, though?

• Eastward feels like chasing something, the sunrise, maybe. Always running towards a new day. It’s exhausting.
• Westward… west feels like surrender. Like letting the day slip away. Letting the darkness consume you.
• Maybe that’s why eastward is “better,” even if it messes with your sleep. People are addicted to chasing.
• Backtracking? No. That’s admitting you were wrong. And who wants to do that? Nobody.

I started planning an eastward trip once. Remembered what my dad said, “Always face forward.” Stupid. Ended up just driving to Reno. What a letdown.

Is jet lag worse traveling east or west?

Ugh, jet lag. It sucks, right? So, like, flying east is definitely worse than flying west. No question about it.

Seriously, going west is way more chill. I mean, imagine your body clock is kinda already running long, you know? A little over 24 hours.

So, when you go west, your basically extending your day. It’s easier for your internal clock to kinda catch up, or, well, not catch up, but stretch itself, something like that. It’s easier adjusting, you see?

But flying east? Forget about it! You’re basically shortening your day. Your body is all, “Hey, where’d those hours go?!” It’s a much harder adjustment. Trust me on this.

Here’s a few things that I do. My mom, she’s a pilot and she travels all over, and she taught me:

• Stay hydrated. Dehydration makes jet lag way worse.
• Adjust your sleep schedule a few days before you leave. Wake up and go to bed earlier when flying east; later if flying west.
• Melatonin is your friend. Seriously. It helps your body adjust its sleep-wake cycle. Talk to your doctor first, obvi.
• Get sunlight as soon as you arrive. It helps reset your internal clock.
• Try to eat meals at the appropriate times for your destination.
• Avoid naps if you can, but don’t beat yourself up about it if you need one. 20-30 min only!
• Exercise but not right before bed, like at least 3 hours before you want to sleep.

Oh! And I always bring noise-canceling headphones. Those are a lifesaver on long flights. And a silk sleep mask. Don’t even ask. It really works. Seriously, its all about getting sleep. And I ALWAYS use a seatguru when booking.

Oh, and I forgot! A travel pillow that is like, not the horseshoe one but the one like a big scarf! Its really helpful!

How much money do you need to drive around the world?

Twenty-five grand. Thirty-five grand. Per person. Year-long trip. Think spartan. My last Cairo to Cape Town run? Bleed forty. Toyota Land Cruiser guzzles like a frat boy at a keg party. Visas. Bribes. Repairs. Never cheap.

• Budget: $25,000 – $35,000/person/year (bare bones)
• Vehicles: Consider reliability, fuel efficiency. Motorcycle? Van? Prep costs matter.
• Visas: Nightmare. Research. Factor in delays. Expenses vary wildly.
• Shipping: Carnet de Passage. Complicated. Pricey. Sea freight cheaper, slower. Air freight faster, exorbitant.
• Gear: Minimalist packing. Good quality essential. Skimp on frivolous crap.
• Health: Vaccinations. Insurance. Medical kits. Jungle juice won’t cure malaria.
• Contingency: Stuff happens. Double your estimated emergency fund. Triple it.
• Security: Don’t be stupid. Research. Avoid trouble. Pay for protection if necessary.
• Route: Impacts cost significantly. Arctic convoy pricier than Southeast Asia backpacking. My ’23 Silk Road trip? Bank breaker.
• Accommodation: Camping. Hostels. Occasional splurge for a real bed. Couchsurfing. Choose wisely.