Two ways to go: independent v guided travel

By Amy Cooper

My preference for independent travel began somewhere in Spain. I say "somewhere" because I was on a British all-inclusive package holiday and so the specifics are blurred. It might have been Majorca, or maybe Minorca. These infamous all-inclusive trips were designed to be as reassuringly un-foreign as possible. All I remember is chips-with-everything meals, a lager-soaked charter flight and tour company reps abundantly qualified in promiscuity, drinking and little else. On such holidays, you'd return with a trophy tan, but otherwise you might as well have watched your destination on TV from the pub back home.

Admittedly, this was the boozy 1990s extreme of guided travel, but it permanently put me off the whole idea.

Even locally sourced guides could be an unpredictable bunch. Once, on a group trip in Sicily, ours hopped off the bus - not far from the village of Corleone - and didn't return. Weary of non-stop puppet shows and ceramics shops, we seized the chance to go off-book, dispersed to pursue our own agendas for the remainder of the trip and met again on the last day. We'd all had a brilliant time, fumbling with accommodation bookings in broken Italian, braving backstreets and notching up small achievements like market purchases and bus tickets. For a bunch of youngsters still pretty green at global adventuring, it was exhilarating.

That was more than 25 years ago, and I've loved the challenge of travelling without training wheels ever since. Of course, there's a difference between fearless and foolhardy, and some places (mountains, jungles, the Arctic) are plain impossible without expert support, but if it's safe to give it a go, I'll try.

The flexibility suits me. Travelling independently lets you set your own pace, rather than struggling to keep up with your group's alpha trekker or politely slowing down for the slowest cyclist in the herd. Sure, there's a risk of appearing a bit daft if you mangle the language or take a wrong turn. But travel is about leaving your comfort zone back home and taking some psychological risks.

And these days, it's not even that hard. Google Maps, auto-translation apps and social media have chipped away at travel's mystery. You're never really lost or alone, and Siri is a remarkably efficient guide who won't corral you into her uncle's souvenir store and refuse to leave until you've bought a rug.

The great digital hive mind can find you anything, anywhere - from a female-friendly bar to a gluten-free bakery, and you can pay with your phone in most places, regardless of currency. In fact, the real challenge now is making it challenging. Our devices have created a new comfort zone and I must confess, I dread losing my phone on a trip. I'd have to prove my independent adventurer credentials all over again.

By Mal Chenu

To me, this is an easy one. For a start, I have the world's worst sense of direction. It's really easy for me to get lost in foreign climes so being told where to go is like maps from heaven. I'm also prepared to accept I don't know as much about these climes as someone who lives there and talks about it day in and day out.

Self-guided explorations might make you feel like you're a real adventurer, but the reality is you end up standing in endless queues, guessing whether a restaurant has three hats or three rats, and miss the cultural nooks and crannies you would otherwise see with an expert guide.

This applies to multi-day tours of the type offered by Trafalgar, Insight, AAT Kings and Contiki, as well as single venue tours of say, a city, cathedral or the MCG (another cathedral).

A properly executed guided tour requires you to turn up. That's it. Basically, you have to walk out of your hotel, and even I can manage that with help from the concierge. The rest is done for you - the logistics, traffic, language issues, entrance fees, return home and, crucially, the immersion.

And even if the guided tour ends by funnelling you through the gift shop, it's not actually compulsory to buy the snow globe or fridge magnet.

The longer tours also give you the chance to form friendships and share travel hacks and experiences, including ideas about where to go next.

Guided Indigenous tours are especially illuminating, as I found when taking my then 10-year-old son on a five-day AAT Kings kids-themed "Shindig" tour of Uluru and Kata Tjuta.

On a very comfortable bus, young Daniel made new friends as we tried dot painting, rode a camel and learned about Anangu legends, European exploration, geology, biology and the finer points of mala poo.

Discovering the ways of an ancient culture is not something you can do for yourself or get from a guidebook. Dreaming stories take on the eerie echo of aeons when told by those who own them.

Of course, you could commit cultural appropriation and self-guide by literally grabbing the nettle and discovering for yourself whether said nettle is bush tucker, bush medicine or poison. Then you can self-diagnose, self-prescribe, self-medicate and take a selfie of yourself throwing up.

Shore excursions off cruise ships are pretty cool, too, although they can be expensive. But, hey, you've come this far and spent this much already, so why not? On an Alaskan cruise, I took a helicopter to a glacier and drank the glacier water as it ran across the ice. For about $200 I had an experience I'm still boring people with years later.