Should travel have an objective?

We're used to think of going somewhere as an end in itself. The travelling itself becomes its own objective.

But that's a consumerist idea. Livingstone, Stanley, Amundsen, Columbus didn't just set out to see what happened. They had objectives: find the source of the Nile, get to the Pole, find the Indies and the source of indescribable wealth. Marco Polo was a typical Venetian, looking for trade deals; Alexandra David-Neel sought the wisdom of Tibetan lamas; and Rimbaud.... well, he was really running away from something, not trying to find it.

Yet most of us go on a trip without an objective. (Of course, if you're off to the beach or the countryside just wanting to relax or recharge your batteries. that's an objective. But if you're just going somewhere to tick it off the bucket list, that's not.)

 I was thinking about this on the plane home from Egypt. I had a feeling that for once, I had met all my objectives. I had a whole list of things I hadn't done; I hadn't sailed on a felucca, visited Philae, gone to Dendera or the western desert or the White and Red Monasteries. But I didn't care; I had a feeling I'd achieved my objectives. A feeling of satisfaction.

I was intrigued that I felt so satisifed despite the huge gaps, the unvisited things. I decided I needed to unpack that a bit. What had I gone to Egypt to do?

Now: a bit of background. When I was young, I was really into Egyptology. I learned a few hieroglyphs (and I can still manage to distinguish User-maat-re, or Ramesses II, from his father Men-maat-re or Seti I, from their cartouches), I drew Tutankhamen's mask in every exercise book, I made pyramids out of cardboard. And then, later on, I drifted away from it, as we mainly do from our childhood crazes.

Then came a time when I discovered Islamic architecture. In Spain, in Oman, in Mughal India. I saw one great city, Istanbul, as full of mosques as of great Greek churches (most of which, of course, were turned into mosques). I discovered the Arab streetscapes of Muscat souk, and tried, and failed, to map it; later, I discovered that Seville was just as impenetrable, and just as typically Arab in its ground plan.

So my objectives in visiting Egypt were to get a feel for ancient Egypt - to orientate myself in it, to understand its context, to take it out of the museum, as it were, and see it in its original richness. And to see Islamic Cairo, which had been one of the great cities of the world in the middle ages.

Did I succeed? Yes, and sometimes in unexpected ways. For instance, rather than visiting the Valley of the Kings, I got my feel for ancient tombs in the Tombs of the Nobles at Aswan. Here I could wander about, spend time getting the feel of how these tombs were excavated, how they were decorated, how they related to the landscape. I probably wouldn't have got so much from just visiting one of the jewel box tombs, like Nefertari's or Tutankhamun's.

I had only three days to see Islamic Cairo. I was disappointed by Ibn Tulun's mosque. But I was intrigued to find Fatimid elements in Coptic Cairo - one of the churches is the tall, narrow main hall of a Fatimid era house, and the beautiful, complex carpentry of the screenwork in the shrines is exactly the same as work in the mosques and mausoleums. Again, an unexpected way to meet that objective. (I did later find the lovely Qalawun mausoleum, mosque and hospital, and the fine house of al-Harawi near al-Azhar mosque, and the immense and powerful Sultan Hassan mosque - all highly recommended for visitors.)

So in future, when I'm taking a trip, I'm going to think about my objectives. Which might be as simple as to walk from A to B. Or as tricky as investigating the traditional music scene. Or just to visit all the microbreweries I can.  It beats ticking off 'sights' in a copy of Lonely Planet.