Does travelling count as a hobby?
Who knew this was such a polarising topic.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about what constitutes a hobby. What do people enjoy doing in their spare time? And more interestingly, why?
It made me consider those who claim travel as their hobby—an admission that can divide the room almost as quickly as a political debate.
Oxford Languages defines a hobby as:
An activity done regularly in one's leisure time for pleasure.
This definition draws up images of needlepoint embroidery or tennis—pursuits done regularly, with dedication and joy. Hobbies often allow for self-improvement, so where does travel fit into this picture?
For many, travel is their self-proclaimed hobby, and their logic is straightforward: they plan, they research meticulously, and finally, they book what they hope will be an adventure filled with fresh perspectives, or, at the very least, a great Instagram post.
In this case, the real hobby seems to lie in the planning as much as in the act of travelling itself. But can something that happens a few times a year truly compare to, say, weekly Pilates classes?
For the frequent flyer, travel is indeed the ultimate hobby. They’re entirely devoted to it, mastering airport lounges and amassing a point balance that would make an accountant blush. These individuals, who pack and unpack regularly, will tell you that travel is about preparation and a willingness to embrace the unknown. And yes, I’ll agree that navigating foreign cultures requires both tact and an open mind.
In this sense, the repetition of travel becomes a continual practice in cultural fluency. You could also practice patience and curiosity, all of which might qualify as a hobby. But is that enough?
A hobby is usually something one can engage in on a whim, and travel, unless you’re the luckiest of jet-setters, is hardly spontaneous. There are flights to book, annual leave to arrange, and, of course, costs to consider.
Traditional hobbies seem more... accessible. Gardening, painting, or baking can be picked up and put down when the mood strikes. Travel, on the other hand, feels more like an indulgence—a luxury, rather than a pastime.
And then, there’s the perception issue. Calling travel a hobby risks placing it on a pedestal that others might find unattainable—or frankly, insufferable. There’s a whiff of elitism when we classify travel as a hobby, potentially elevating it above activities that require fewer resources.
So, what is travel? A hobby or an interest? Perhaps it’s something people love but can’t participate in regularly. It might be something that inspires or enriches other aspects of life—the distinction lies between engagement and inspiration.
Compared to a hobby, an interest can be more passive. You can be passionate about travel without needing to jet off every week. And I think that’s where travel fits best—as an interest, a passion, but not quite a hobby.
In general, though, I find the fixation on hobbies as identity markers faintly exasperating. We’ve become a culture intent on defining ourselves by what we do, both at work and in leisure, as though our Strava hikes are badges of honour.
Perhaps my real ‘issue’ isn’t whether travel qualifies as a hobby, but why I feel the need to label it—or anything—so definitively. Must every pursuit we enjoy be neatly categorised? Are we partaking in them purely for display? The real point of these activities, surely, is how they fulfil us, hobby or not.
Or as my sister would say, “It’s not that deep.”
So, again, is travel a hobby? It depends on who you ask. For some, it’s the only way they can imagine spending their free time. For others, it’s definitely more of an interest. As for my own conclusion, I don’t believe it’s a hobby. Let it be what it is, which is an interest (a fabulous one), and at best, a lifestyle.