It is certainly rather obvious that if you have not traveled short term (=tourist) there is no way to know if you might be good at full time travel. So…
People very often say that they would like to travel, but when pressed they recite a predictable list of reasons why they cannot (time, money, job, family), or a shorter list of why it is just too challenging to accomplish (hard to plan, language barrier, safety, the unknown). This signals to me that they have a vague desire (or believe that they should want) to travel, but they really do not know what it is like, or what they themselves like. Without trying travel it is hard to predict how a person feels about that experience.
There is no way to force a love of travel on people. I have tried to push the pleasure of travel on poor, vulnerable relatives, and it has been a universal disaster. For every story that begins “my uncle took me to Ghana and that is why I love travel”, there are twenty unwritten short stories about a trip to the South of France, or Latvia that underdelivered or traumatized.
For me, motivation might have been the exotic sound of Timbuktu in a mis attributed Kipling poem: or ‘jodhpurs, veranda, and char’ spoken with relish in English-Indian accents. Perhaps the foreign essays filling every edition of Granta magazine. Or none of the above. I do not believe that there is any causality, only happenstance.
My only advice on how to find out if you are will enjoy travel is to test drive traveling alone. I think that going solo, at least at the beginning, is crucial to finding out if this life is for you.
For a start, it meant that I had to figure is all out myself. No specialization of labour (‘well, your Spanish is so much better than mine….’, ‘you do such a good job of planning a route…’), just a Jack of all trades.
More importantly (for self conscious me), it removed witnesses from the many times that I made embarrassing mistakes, or gone down a trail to disaster. I have since figured out that all outcomes, good and bad, are just experience, and I should not be embarrassed by anything.
Most importantly though, it eliminates the dynamic of relationships. I decide when to get up, which way to turn at each intersection, whether I have stayed too long and want to move, if I go to that pub to see that band, or if I am just not in the mood. Depending on your communication style and level of detail in planning, as well as tolerance for disruption and disappointment, the spoken and unspoken dialogue between a traveling pair or group can burn up a lot of energy and build up tension. A solo start allows you to find out if you singular enjoys the life. Add complexity if you like after you determine this binary answer.
Anyway. Pick a place, perhaps a tad exotic, for any reason at all. Buy a ‘plane ticket, reserve a hotel for the first two nights, and go. Find out if you enjoy the uncertainty, the ultimate freedom to choose, the chaos, the perpetual novelty, the varied ways people interact, the challenge and exuberance of communicating across languages, the different infrastructure solutions, the need to just ‘figure it out’ all the time, the cacophony or quiet, the familiar to frightful foods, the relative safety or scary factors.
Back at ‘home’ – do you feel a frisson of accomplishment? An upgrade of confidence? Did you meet someone who stretched your mind and amazed with their calm? Another person who was crazy attractive because of their worldliness and ‘devil may care’ style? Did you go somewhere that no one you know has visited? Find yourself saying ‘well, that was a surprise!’ – in a positive tone? Or, ‘that was horrible, but I am wiser for having done it’?
When you return to the default world, you might find that the social media photos of brunch plates are even less interesting. You might discover yourself smiling about the silliness of the impromptu donkey cart ride in Sudan, or ‘the worlds warmest beer’ in Mombasa. And if you do you might be ready to step out for real. Whichever your choice, be sure to own it and enjoy it.