Anna McNuff: I would rather have deeper conversations with 100 people than get a fleeting like from 40,000
- Edward Owen-Burge
- Apr 11
- 8 min read
The adventurer, award-winning author, and self-confessed mischief maker talks about the degradation of experience by social media, how we can connect more as a community, and why everyone should embrace the chaos.
Whether we explicitly say it or not, we all live our lives based on a set of beliefs about how the world works and how people interact. That framing is everything. And while it goes against what we are told, I ultimately feel the world is a good and kind place, and the people reflect that.
My first big adventure was cycling across America, and the kindness I encountered was incredible. I camped for the first three months, but in the last three months, there were only ten nights when I wasn’t hosted by someone I’d never met before. That might sound crazy, especially when a lot of it just happened organically. I’d stay with one person, and then they would pass me like a baton to, for example, their cousin who lived 60 miles down the road.
When I ran barefoot across Britain I had no support crew. Not only did people host me, but they ferried my bag along from one stranger to the next, meeting up in car parks while I was running. It was like this network of people coming together to help a complete stranger, as well as these connections being made that I wasn’t even a part of.
It blew my mind, but at the same time, it reinforced a belief and worldview I already had; that people are fundamentally good and kind. If we weren’t wired that way, we wouldn’t have made it this far as a species. But the challenge is that in everyday life, societal narratives often try to tell us the opposite. We’re constantly bombarded with fear-driven messaging that suggests danger is everywhere and that people are out to get us. I think you have to actively seek out the good in the world and filter out the negativity.
I always tell my kids, though they don’t fully understand it yet, that you should base your view of the world on your real-life experiences, on the actual human connections you have, not the half-formed, one-sided narratives you see in the media or on your socials.
Of course, digital platforms play a huge role in how we interact now. I’ve spent years relying on people following me to make a living, but in the last year and a half, I’ve stepped away from traditional platforms. I still use them, but it doesn’t sit right with me. I’m no longer invested in chasing likes and quick interactions. I would rather have deeper conversations with 100 people than get a fleeting like from 40,000. It’s a hard thing to get your head around after a decade of this type of activity. We need to engage in more meaningful ways and only connect with people online who you’d actually go for coffee with.
There’s something about adventuring that aligns with that idea; taking the time to be fully immersed in an experience, rather than reducing everything to a bite-sized moment for social media. We will be instantly exposed to the most incredible scenes of challenge and human endeavour on our phones, only to scroll past after a few seconds. And we’ll quickly forget it. Has social media degraded what adventuring is? What getting out into nature, into the wild and discovering new places and people is all about, because it’s been packaged into these flippant chunks of content?
That’s why I love writing books. I’ve found that books, in particular audio books, create a much deeper personal connection with the listener. You’re in someone’s ears, speaking directly to them, and it’s just the two of you while the rest of the world melts away. You’re hanging out with this person, feeling like you’re getting to know them - and you miss them when it’s over. It’s the same for a written book and there’s something really special about that.
And I find you take on so much more that way. We’re constantly being fed information and there’s this drive to just get it read, get it watched, get it read - and then move onto the next thing. Instead, like adventures and journeys, we are absorbing the moment, enjoying the process and living in that moment in a real and authentic way.
With social media snippets, the tendency is that you only see the good side to things as well, whereas a book will take you on the full journey of ups and downs. And if you see the downs, you appreciate the ups more. That’s important, especially when people think the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s not greener; it’s just different.
Considering the ongoing wellness craze, and the hype surrounding experiences and influencers on social media, I often wonder why more people don’t step into adventure. Especially when we have more access to it than ever before with international travel and online information.
I think it’s a combination of cultural norms and personal confidence. We grow up in a system that tells us the ‘right’ way to live: work a steady job, buy a house, save for retirement. It’s hard to go against that grain because you’re bound to get a lot of questions, and other people’s fears will be projected onto you. If you’re already feeling uncertain, those fears can be enough to stop you.
Then there’s confidence. Many people have never put themselves in a situation where they had to figure things out on their own. It can be a genuinely scary place. On top of that, there’s personal comfort with certainty. Some people need structure and predictability, and that’s okay. But for those who want something different, it’s about getting comfortable with discomfort, knowing you’ll figure it out as you go.
Of course, an adventure doesn’t have to be extreme. It can be just pushing your thresholds a little. I stayed with a woman during an expedition who had gone to great lengths to make sure everything was perfect for me; setting up the bedroom in a particular way and was quite particular about details - even though I told her I was happy to sleep on the floor. Later, she admitted that having a stranger in her home was way outside her comfort zone. It was a big deal for her. We often talk about pushing comfort zones in a big, adventurous way, but for her, simply inviting me into her home was a huge personal challenge and the reward she got was just as good - seeing that she is not restricted by her perceived thresholds.
That’s why we set up Adventure Queens, a community of 15,000 women who want to explore but don’t have anyone to go with. Watching how people navigate that space, I’ve realised that fear of the unknown is a big barrier. People don’t trust that they’ll be able to handle whatever comes their way. That’s what adventuring has taught me - you don’t have to have all the answers; you just have to trust yourself enough to take the first step.
I grew up with two brothers so it never occurred to me not to do something because I’m female. I’ve always approached my storytelling asthis is what I do and PS I’m a woman. On my bike across America, I felt that because I was a woman people were more inclined to help. Of course I’ve been in lots of scary situations, but now the part of my brain that lights up when I’m in danger isn’t the woman part, it’s the mother part. Before, I could go on an adventure and if I didn’t come back, I’m ok with that. But now I have my children to think about, and that’s a completely different thing. Even small things like running up the Malverns - all 400m of them - had me catastrophising!
When it comes to women, when I am travelling, what I love is seeing the strength of everyday women. They work the land, they carry the most extraordinary weights, and they don’t think twice about it. I love stepping out of western culture and seeing that raw, unflinching strength in women. Things are moving here, but even when a female gardener comes around, you take a second look. It’s still different.
Obviously, beyond the people and the community, there’s the nature you get when going on adventurers. Real nature, real landscapes. The wild. I was in New Zealand in these mountains called the Richmond Ranges, and I was running the ridge line at about 700m high. The sun was shining, the grass was swaying, and it was one of the happiest days of my life. And later that day, to be in a little hut at the bottom of the valley, surrounded by mountains while being warmed by a fire. It’s so simple. You’re so connected. Everyone should experience that. Being closer to nature and how it will change your life.
And yes, we love big nature and the wild. That’s probably what we look for the most in these shallower, digital forms. But you can get that feeling from a local park, a local walking route, or a small wood. There are places all over the UK where you can get lost and not see people on a trail for an hour. This year, when I’ve felt overwhelmed with work, motherhood, life, all of it - those are the places I’ll go to. There’s a place in Gloucester called Cooper’s Hill - famous for the cheese rolling race. But behind it are trails that disappear into these beech woods, and you can just head out there for a few hours and come back as a new person.
We have to enjoy these places while we can. So much of the UK countryside is restricted. In South America, you can wild camp anywhere and the most that will happen is someone will wake you up to have a chat about their llama in spanish (true story!). But here, and also the US, it’s threatening and everywhere is private, restricted, unavailable to you and me. That is probably one of the major barriers stopping people feeling connected to the natural world.
The important thing to remember is that it’s never too late. While running the Te Araroa Trail in New Zealand, I met a 65 year old man named Ron, traveling the world with no fixed home. He told me, “I don’t want to sit around cutting the grass, waiting to die.” That alone was inspiring. But what made him even more memorable was that he hiked with a carbon-fiber guitar strapped to his backpack. If you spent a night in a backcountry hut with him, he’d be strumming Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash songs, creating this magical atmosphere. He was also incredibly kind. I once found him halfway up a steep slope, digging steps into the trail to help the hikers coming after him. That’s the kind of person we should aspire to be: always looking out for others.
Ultimately, I think the biggest message I try to share is that life is messy; and that’s ok. We’re presented with a polished version of reality every day, but the truth is that life is full of jagged edges. That’s what I try to show in my writing; peeling back the layers so people don’t just get that top bit but all of the story - good and bad. That’s where real connection happens. Life is messy, and instead of fearing the mess, we should embrace it. Cool things come from embracing the chaos.
As told to Edward Owen-Burge in March 2025. This conversation was edited & condensed for clarity.
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