"They say travel broadens the mind," says G.K. Chesterton, adding, "but you must have the mind." Further, that mind must be both attentive and reflective, independent and philosophical, and must be gifted with a rare ability to regard itself.
Perhaps that is the reason so much travel writing is shallow and silly -- no brains. It is certainly the reason that great travel writing has a special claim to our reading it. It is the record of someone who went into the unknown (it need not be Tombouctou, it could be Las Vegas) and describes more than just what he or she saw.
Beyond the scenery and even the people, the traveler finds a self born of observation, one freed of the verdigris of habit, polished shiny by the new, and turned poet by the experience.