Column: When traveling, feel free to choose your own direction

Scrunched into the back of a van with several other people, I pulled what looked like a giant fleece onesie over my thermals. Then I headed outside to stuff myself into a dry suit, sealed up around the wrists and neck like a vacuum-packed cheese log, and waddled over to the spot where I would lower myself into glacier water just a smidge above freezing.

I had begun to question my sanity as I endured the hour-long prep for a 30-minute guided snorkel tour in a fissure situated between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. I saw “Titanic.” I knew what happened to poor Leonardo DiCaprio after his encounter with icy water.

But after I put my head into the frigid, crystal-clear water, my anxieties vanished and I became mesmerized by the otherworldly scene of spectacular rock formations, neon moss and wispy, technicolor algae known as “troll hair.” I barely even noticed that my face — the only exposed part of my body — had gone numb.

This and other adventures were part of a recent trip I took to Iceland and Scotland, accompanied by my indulgent husband and another couple who are our longtime friends and occasional travel companions. One of them came up with the snorkeling idea — an activity a timid soul like me would never have considered if left to my own devices.

But this isn’t one of those travel columns. You know the ones I mean: the newspaper and magazine pieces that confidently and often rather smugly dispense wisdom about the best way to travel; the ones that scold us if we’re not constantly pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones. You’re simply not doing it right, these articles assert, if you don’t at least try the fried tarantula while in Cambodia.

While I love to travel — indeed, my husband would probably say that I live to travel — I don’t believe there’s any particular right or wrong way to do it.

By the same token, there’s also no reason to think that people who don’t relish travel like I do should apologize or feel marginalized for needing or preferring to stay close to home and familiar surroundings. Where travel is concerned, my philosophy is simple and defiantly anti-snob: you do you.

That being said, one of the joys of travel for me is that I get to be me — that is, do and see the things I find interesting — while also sometimes trying out something altogether new and different and even a little stressful.

My recent trip provides a perfect example of that balance, as each one in my travel group brought their own preferences and ideas into the mix. I’m a history nerd. My husband is a golf enthusiast. My friend is a savvy shopper, and her husband likes rugged outdoor activities (snorkeling in glacier melt was his idea).

So we did some of this and some of that. We bought some gorgeous wool sweaters and visited museums, battlefields and castles. But we also rode ATVs across a lava field and hiked to the rim of a dormant volcano, where we rode an elevator-like contraption down 400 feet to the bottom and were rewarded with a kaleidoscope of colorful rock formations. And my husband got to play at a few of the most iconic golf courses in Scotland, which made him a very happy man.

We each got to to do our own version of “you do you,” while also stretching ourselves a bit into less familiar territory.

To be sure, I am well aware of my great good fortune that my days of traveling on the cheap are long behind me. But even if they weren’t, I’d still find a way.

Also, it must be acknowledged, travel is not without its risks. That ATV excursion? My friend fell and suffered an injury that, while not extremely serious, was bad enough to cause her pain and limit her mobility for the remainder of the trip, and which required treatment after we returned home to Newport Beach.

Even so, she soldiered through valiantly for the rest of the trip and professed not to regret a single moment, which speaks volumes about just how marvelous it turned out to be. I returned to Newport feeling both exhausted and rejuvenated at the same time, a sensation that other travelers will surely recognize.

Aside from all our adventures, though, there’s one more aspect to traveling that I find particularly captivating — one that I’m reminded of every time I venture away from home. As we humans navigate around exotic parts of our planet, we often find ourselves relying greatly on the kindness of strangers to get by, and in this I am grateful to find that I’m rarely disappointed.

I’ll think about that the next time I’m taking one of my customary walks around the Back Bay, and someone stops me to ask for directions. They are fellow travelers, I’ll remind myself, just trying to find their way in a big, beautiful world.

PATRICE APODACA is a former Newport-Mesa public school parent and former Los Angeles Times staff writer. She lives in Newport Beach.