I’d just hitch-hiked from Helsinki, capital of Finland, to the town of Mikkeli, where I’d been assigned a student-exchange gig for the local “TVH” (Ministry of Works) during my summer university break. It was a Sunday afternoon, offices closed. Not knowing a word of Finnish beyond “good morning,” I walked into a drugstore, thinking — correctly as it turned out — that people whose business was pharmaceuticals might speak some English. When I asked about a budget hotel, a kindly assistant took pity on me, telling me, in English, to come back in an hour when she was off work. Soon I was eating dinner with her and her family, later sleeping on their couch. Next morning I found my way to the Ministry of Works office (where I promptly acquired the name “Musta parta,” black beard). These days, my iPhone would have taken care of me, but at what price of innocence?

“Musta parta” with my temporary Finnish boss, 1962. (Barry Evans)

That was 1962. Every so often when Louisa and I are traveling, a small incident reminds me of the difference between then and now — essentially how much easier it is now. For instance, last night, reading a Kindle book on my 7-ounce iPhone, I remembered carrying three heavy books in my bike panniers through the mountains of Spain in the ’80s.

Let me count some of the other ways that makes traveling in 2024 a cinch compared with back then.

Money

Remember Travelers’ Checks (Amex) or Travellers’ Cheques (Thomas Cook)? We were reminded of these two popular types in Sri Lanka 40 years ago, when I tried to cash some Cook’s cheques (bought in the UK a month previously) in Nuwara Eliya, at the town’s only bank. “Sorry sir, we only handle American Express. You have to go to Kandy for Thomas Cook.” Two half-days of traveling later, I returned triumphant, rupees in hand. Nowadays, a debit card from any US bank will be accepted at virtually all ATM machines the world over. Oh yeah, and now you can use euros in most of Europe, no changing currency at borders.

Maps

I’m a Queen’s Scout (the UK original version of an Eagle Scout), so map-and-compass went with the territory, so to speak. Anyone who has cycled in France knows the satisfaction of using Michelin 1:100,000 paper maps: stick to the yellow roads (the ubiquitous paved back roads) and you’ll be fine. Today, of course, Google will plot your route, after you’ve told it (her?) whether you’re on foot, on a bike or driving. Even — the ultimate in magic — what time a bus or train leaves for your destination, including where and when to change.

Driving on the main west-east road through Bulgaria in 1963. (Barry Evans)

Booking

That’s booking.com for us. In the old days, we’d arrive — on foot, bike or bus — not knowing where we’d spend the night. True, we never lacked for accommodation, despite some close calls (pitching a tent in the courtyard of an Athens hotel, a haystack in Finland), but the sheer luxury of arriving somewhere, tired (often wet) and knowing there’s a room already reserved has no equal. In Mexico, where traveling in long distance buses reminds us of flying business class, booking seats in advance online is so handy.

Uber

— and its many clones. How many times has Uber saved our asses, from flying into Gatwick (UK) at 2 a.m. to getting back to our hotel from a remote Roman ruin an hour away in Bulgaria? There’s a downside to the ease of summoning Uber: hitch-hiking was easier back then. We still do it, despite being advised not to (in Lebanon, every driver who picked us up gave us a lecture on why. we shouldn’t hitch there!), but somehow the casual, carefree ease of hitching — someone would always pick us up — seems to have gone the way of steel-frame bikes.

Communications

Aerograms! Telegrams! Telex! Phone booths! General delivery/Poste restante! Need I say more?

In 1960, you could stay in a (very basic) Scottish Youth Hostel like this for three shillings (about $3 today). (Barry Evans)

Everything is so much easier for a traveler these days, and, at my age, I appreciate it all. And yet…I miss the self that figured out how to find an English speaker in a small Finnish town, the self that drove to Istanbul in a funky van with five other students while waiting for the results of our finals, the self that hitched half the width of Scotland with a collapsed bike wheel.

Gotta go, I have to check the online bus timetable and book seats.