Nellie Bly Around The World In Seventy Two Days

Let’s be real: planning a vacation can feel like a full-time job. You’ve got to book flights, pack the right shoes, and pray your phone battery lasts the whole flight. But imagine deciding on a whim to race around the entire planet in just seventy-two days. That’s exactly what journalist Nellie Bly did back in 1889, and she made it look easier than choosing a Netflix show.

Nellie was fed up with a fictional character who did the same trip in 80 days. She told her editor at the New York World, “I can do it faster, and I’ll prove it.” Her boss basically said, “Sure, go for it—but you’re paying your own way if you fail.” Talk about pressure, right? It’s like promising your friends you’ll finish a marathon, then realizing you haven’t even bought running shoes.

The Unlikely Travel Buddy

Nellie didn’t haul a giant suitcase or a dozen “just in case” outfits. She packed one small leather bag—the kind you’d carry to a lazy brunch. Inside was a change of clothes, a flask, and a notebook. She didn’t even bring a smartphone because, obviously, they didn’t exist. She navigated with paper maps and human kindness, which is basically what we do when Google Maps fails at a busy intersection.

Her biggest travel hack? She brought a monkey she bought along the way for company. Yes, a real, live monkey. It’s the 19th-century equivalent of bringing a carry-on emotional support animal, except the monkey probably didn’t need a TSA pre-check. Imagine explaining that to customs: “No, sir, this is just my travel buddy, McGinty.”

Trains, Ships, and a Lot of Waiting

Her journey was a blur of trains, steamships, and rickshaws—no Uber, no flight status apps. She once got stuck at a port in Hong Kong because a ship left without her. Her reaction wasn’t panic; she calmly found another boat, like when you miss the bus and realize the next one is just five minutes away. She crossed the English Channel in a storm so bad she later wrote, “I thought my last hour had come.” But she still made it to London for a quick chat with Jules Verne, the guy who wrote the book she was beating.

Nellie Bly, around the world in 72 days | ONIRIKOS

Reading her diary, you get the sense Nellie had the energy of a caffeinated golden retriever. She’d casually mention things like, “Slept on a coal pile in a ship’s hold because the cabin was too hot.” That’s the kind of grit you only see today when someone’s Wi-Fi goes down during a Zoom call and they still finish the presentation from their phone.

What We Can Learn From Her Madness

Nellie didn’t just break a record—she broke the idea that women couldn’t handle adventure alone. When she got back to New York, a crowd of thousands cheered, and she was probably thinking, “Cut it with the fanfare, I need a shower and a real bed.” She finished in 72 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes—a time that stood for years. It’s like when you beat your personal best at the gym by five seconds, but multiplied by a million.

Watch Around the World in 72 Days | American Experience | Official Site

The best part? She did it all for the thrill of the challenge, not for likes or sponsors. There were no Instagram stories of her eating strange food or sunset selfies. She just did it, wrote about it, and later became a billionaire industrialist. Yes, she actually ran a company later. Talk about a multi-tasking queen.

The Monkey and the Legacy

So what’s the takeaway for your average doofus like you and me? Next time you complain about a delayed flight or a long layover, remember Nellie doing it without podcasts. Pack light, embrace chaos, and if you have to, bring a monkey. The world is small enough to explore, but big enough to feel wonderfully weird when you try.

And honestly, seventy-two days around the Earth sounds less stressful than planning a weekend road trip with your in-laws. Go make your own impossible timeline. Just maybe leave the actual monkey at home.