Thoughts On Travel

With the sheer amount of information at your disposal, it’s hard to choose a travel destination without forming a strong impression of it early on. Unfortunately, these impressions will, in many cases, lead to extremely high expectations. And expectations tend to get in the way of fully enjoying your trip.

As you choose your destination early on, you may rely on friends’ recommendations or ranked lists like “top places to travel in 2020”. You might even browse through carefully manicured photographs on the web or Instagram, which love to recreate the illusion of the perfect getaway. 

In this fairyland, the weather conditions are perfect; there are no hoards of tourists competing for long lines at the most popular attractions; no museum or attraction is shutdown for reconstruction; and of course, you’re not hot, cold, or have tired feet. 
In your mind, this vacation will embody some high ideal: perfection, beauty, transcendence, or a common favorite: “life-changing”. There’s often a key event to look forward to – arriving at Machu Picchu should be mystical and awe-inspiring; Michelangelo’s David is the most perfect statue you will have seen, you may be told; going to Southeast Asia will inspire you spiritually and help you “find yourself.”

As soon as you arrive at your destination, however, you begin to make comparisons with all you’d been told. These are small and subtle thoughts, but constantly nag at you as you travel. The meal at that excellent restaurant is not as good as your friend had said it would be. You make a special side-trip to Cadaqués, not far from Barcelona, on the recommendation of yours truly, hoping to find Salvador Dalí’s mystical stomping grounds, only to find a very quiet village. Things are not as great, or just very different from what you expected.

As we consider whether an experience or a place is truly remarkable in some way, we simply can’t forget that we’re judging it with a highly subjective instrument – our body and mind. It’s common knowledge that it’s hard to appreciate art if you’re hungry and cold. Likewise, if your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of whether something lived up to its name, you’ve essentially blocked up one of the most essential organs you possess for enjoying what’s in front of you.

I think there are a couple of ways to combat this problem. First, though this is really difficult, you have to reset your expectations before you’re ready to take your trip. Stop giving the same importance to those things you’ve read or others told you about. If you’re travelling with a partner, split the task of planning the travel itinerary in half – this way, you’ll be surprised by at least fifty percent of what you do. 

For truly monumental activities or places, another trick is to simply downplay their importance right before the visit. Just think, “oh, it’s just the Great Wall of China. It’s basically a big wall.” The trick is not to get too stuck in that mindset – otherwise you might end up under appreciating things completely. Simply reset yourself to a mental baseline, and then give yourself the chance to appreciate it on your own terms. In the best case you’ll be impressed, but in the worst case you won’t be too disappointed.

What you find enjoyable could be very different than the person who wrote the guidebook or your friend. For me, those moments of delight are found in the least expected places – a small quiet street; a little funny street sign; an uneventful minute when I sit and take the wonderful view. The simple fact that I was surprised by them, untainted by any expectations, helps me enjoy them more fully.

Do you really have to go far to enjoy your travels? Although looking for the exotic, remote, or sublime may bring you the most joy, it’s not always practical to do so. Travelling close to home may be the remedy for those of you with an insatiable wanderlust. However, it often requires changing your mindset.

Have you ever looked at a guidebook of your own country or city and thought, “I already know most of this… I don’t need to read through this.” And yet, I’d be willing to bet that there are monuments you haven’t visited and interesting things you’ve yet to learn.

I’ve met Italians who, despite having grown in a country most people would love to visit, had never actually visited Rome. Their reasoning was that Rome would always be there, so what’s the rush?

Some would argue this is natural – Italians don’t find Rome as interesting as a foreigner would. But, a more compelling explanation is that we tend to appreciate less what’s accessible or abundant to us.

Even if where you live has cultural importance, it can quickly become your new normal. I’ve experienced this in New York City. When I moved there I spent the first few months looking up, curious at the architecture and the history of the buildings. But over time, unless I made a conscious effort, all the incredible things around me became part of my routine. That sense of wonder did return whenever a friend came to visit and would gawk at everything. There’s nothing better than your first time in a new place, and I often wish I could have that feeling again whenever I return to certain places.

There is also an unfair competition between the attention and importance you give a trip abroad versus a day in your hometown. Whenever you spend a lot on money on an object or experience, it will force you to appreciate it more. It’s the reason why paid gyms help people work out regularly – you want to feel that you’re getting your money’s worth.

Similarly, a trip abroad is a serious investment in your time and money. Naturally, most people put in the extra effort to plan an itinerary, learn about the history of the place, and appreciate everything while they’re there because they think, “I may never come back here again!”

However, it’s also possible to miss your chance to visit the very things that are around you. The Hope Gallery in Austin, where I live, was an abandoned construction project turned outdoor graffitti gallery. By the time I decided to visit, I discovered it was permanently closed – though it would soon be relocated and reopened. Though the project would continue elsewhere, I was sad that the authenticity of the original location was forever lost, especially since I had had plenty of chances to visit it.

Treasures are everywhere if we take the time to discover them. In order to shift my focus and increase my appreciation, I like to take a day and pretend that I’m really a tourist in my own city. I’ll plan it as if I’ve just flown from thounds of miles away. I’ll research a bit more of its history, find landmarks I’ve missed, and read reviews on restaurants I don’t usually frequent. And then, of course, I’ll go out and do it!

Try it, and soon you’ll be feeling the same thrills as if you were far, far way.

Disclosure: the links presented below are affiliate links, which means that, at no additional cost to you, I will earn a small commission if you click through and buy the product.

At least once a week, I plan to write an article about some of my favorite travel-related products. These have to pass a certain level of quality or personal bar before I decide to put them here, so you can rest assured they should be worth it.

Today I present to you “Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I have Never Set Foot On and Never Will” by Judith Schalansky.

I found this book many years ago browsing through a bookstore in San Francisco. The cover was simple enough, but the stories within thoroughly captured my imagination; the typography as well as the design of each island stood out from many others in its genre. In fact, this book by author Judith Schalansky has won several design awards, including the German design award and the Red Dot Design award in 2011.

Besides a brief introduction, each island is presented in a consistent format: a large physical map of the island on the right, a story and other interesting data on the left. The author includes the island’s coordinates, bar graphs that show its distance to other important places, and other relevant information like size and population.

Tristan da Cunha is one of the islands included in the book that started my fascination with islands. It’s absolutely the most remote island in the world that still sustains a human population. Even today, reaching it is no easy feat: there are no flights; getting there by ship from Cape Town takes about five to six days and those trips take place only a few times a year. There is now a single cruise company (as far as I could find) that includes it in its itinerary.

Tristan da Cunha has a fascinating history, as its population descends from only a handful of families that decided to move there in the early 1800s and create a sort of island utopia.

Instead of presenting a typical encyclopedia entry for each island, which you could have easily found online, Schalansky highlights an important story from each island that she’s carefully researched. On St. George Island, sea cows are discovered, documented, and then hunted to extinction.

For islands with a more well-known history, she often presents a different angle. For example, Pitcairn Island is the famous spot where mutineers of the HMS Bounty decided to spend the rest of their days; she combines narration about the mutiny leader Fletcher Christian with thoughts by Marlon Brando on how to best depict these events in a movie. (Brand plays Christian’s role in the movie Mutiny on the Bounty)

I think it makes a great gift, a good coffee table book, and definitely a joy to read on your next trip. It’s available in a standard format (my favorite) or in a smaller size.

Before my wife and I decide to book a trip, we ask ourselves whether we want a vacation or an adventure. 

What’s the difference? To me, a vacation is a (mostly) passive trip, one you might spend by the beach or a resort. Even a staycation counts here. The idea is not necessarily that you spend 12 hours each day doing absolutely nothing – you still might plan a couple of activities for your trip. But the overall goal is physical and mental relaxation, so a 10-mile hike would not be an appropriate activity here, whereas a massage, a show, or some wine tasting would. 

On the other hand, when I’m describing a more physically demanding trip, I call it an adventure. This usually involves a lot of sightseeing, hiking, and exploring. You can certainly be adventurous in your adventure, choosing a light itinerary and letting your interests lead the rest of the way. Some people find adventures invigorating, while many others will complain of sore feet or not getting a real chance to relax.

It’s important to agree on what you want from a trip as you start planning. If your job is physically and emotionally demanding, you’ll probably want a vacation. If you’re a desk-dweller like myself with pirate-like tendencies, then adventure beckons!  

Mixing the two can also yield great results. I am fond of spending a few days at the beach in Costa Rica followed by a few days of mountain hiking, coffee-farm exploring and animal watching. After two or three days, I don’t find lounging with a tropical drink alluring anymore but need a good shot of culture or nature.

You’ve found the perfect luxury hotel for a relaxed vacation. You had decided to splurge a bit because, hey, you deserve it. When you show up, the place is nice and quiet – the few other guests don’t dare approach, say hi, or even a good morning. You’re going to have a wonderful time, you think.

Except that, as the days go by, you start to feel bored and lonely. You wonder why you came in the first place. (Then again, maybe the isolation is exactly what you needed – more on that later). You stick your nose in a book, and hope the time goes by quickly.

Picture this instead: you book a hostel or a less extravagant hotel. Because the place more affordable, it’s bustling with people from all over the world. It’s a tad nosier, but you’ll manage. At breakfast, as the tables are not too far apart (or even communal), you strike up a conversation with a couple from France. You realize you have a lot in common and chat for a good fifteen minutes until the food arrives. You may not be best friends for life, but you feel a friendly connection. You see the same couple throughout your stay, sharing your experience of your trip and exchanging tips. By the end of your stay, you’ve met several other people and feel like you’ve formed a little community.

The latter is probably a highly idealized scenario – but it drives a good point. As we get older, pickier, and have more disposable income, we tend to spend more on lodging and activities that are more individualized (like a private instead of a group tour) and more exclusive, and thus more isolating.

There’s nothing wrong with that. Just think hard if that’s what you’re looking for in your next trip. Like most luxuries in life, it can easily become our default, but we can easily forget that we’re trading off privacy for the chance to meet interesting people.

People have always wanted better ways to share their journeys with the world. With the invention of the first Kodak film camera in 1888, travelers were finally able to snap photos without lugging around a ton of equipment and chemicals. Travel photography was thus born. 

Nowadays, it’s impossible to visit a museum or landmark and avoid seeing dozens of cameras around. On a recent visit to the British Museum during one of its busiest days of the year, I noticed visitors taking photos of every single object they came across, including its label. The Rosetta Stone was particularly crowded from all angles, but people would wait patiently for the privilege of an unobstructed view for their camera. When it came to less famous (but arguably still impressive) objects, I noticed visitors approach, snap a photo, and leave within seconds. They didn’t even take a moment to appreciate the very thing they’re taking a photo of! I thought. I wondered what the point of it all was. 

Not to be too controversial, but it was clear that this was a particular type of photographer: I’ll call it the trigger happy kind. This creature obsessively captures every single thing it comes across, isn’t too concerned with the quality of the result, and usually forgets to do anything with their collection once they’re back home. I’ve done that – we all likely have at some point. 

This behavior left me stumped, as I saw it over and over again. Why are we so obsessed with the sole act of taking a photograph? Was it proof that we’ve been to the place and have seen the thing? Is it a fear that, in a few days, our trip will be over, and all we will have left are a few hundred snapshots to relive it? Sometimes I wonder if every shutter click gives the photographer a rush of dopamine.

Mostly importantly, haven’t we realized that taking so many photographs gets in the way of really enjoying what we’re seeing at that moment? 

Unless you’re a professional photographer doing his or her job, you are there, I hope, to enjoy your time. To learn something new. To experience a sublime and transcendental sunset. 

Experiencing the majority of your trip through a phone screen or a camera’s viewfinder not only limits your field of view; it also shifts your focus away from the experience and toward getting the right photograph. Our time would be better spent if we simply set our phones or cameras down (if only for a few minutes!), took a moment to experience the present and appreciate what’s in front of us. No photograph can give you the adrenaline you feel when you reach that mountaintop, make you feel elated when you see a famous painting, or satisfy you like a great meal.

To be clear – I’m a huge fan of taking photographs as you go along. It’s clear that photography has permanently changed the way we travel, and there’s no going back. But I think there’s a balance to strike. 

Let’s be more judicious about what and when we choose to photograph. Let’s ask ourselves why we’re doing it in the first place, and why we’re choosing a particular subject. Let’s decide to take a break and declare a photography-free afternoon. 

You might give other a chance to get that perfect shot.

It’s important to give yourself a day or two to relax before starting your travels. Some of this is practical: you need time to pack and get your affairs in order before you can physically leave.

Given the rushed pace of our lives, our minds need time to slow down to vacation mode. This is often difficult for me. My default behavior is to accomplish as much as possible in as little time as possible. But, that kind of pace simply defeats the purpose of travel. We need to allow ourselves the luxury of a two hour lunch; to read a book slowly and leisurely; or, to enjoy a good painting at the museum without worrying about what’s next.

How much time should I take off?

If possible, I try to schedule a vacation that is at least two weeks long. This may sound too long to many of you, but there’s sound logic behind it.

Your mind needs at least three to four days to really slow down, giving yourself a real chance to get away from your day-to-day troubles, and reach what I like to call “vacation flow” (inspired by the term “flow”, or being in the zone, from positive psychology). If you only took a week off, it means you only get a couple of days in this truly relaxed state. Two weeks guarantees that you have, at a minimum, a full week of mental bliss.

How should I schedule free vs. planned time?

It’s tempting to book a vacation somewhere exotic, and, in order to make the most of our time and money, schedule activities for every minute of the day. I personally find this exhausting because it keeps me in a busy, structured schedule that doesn’t feel any different from being back home. I don’t want to feel rushed from one activity to the next; I like to have time to improvise my plans, follow my interest, or simply find a nice place to sit and relax.

On the other hand, not planning at all can lead to wasted time and frustration. If you had spent a bit of time planning, you would have realized buying tickets to that museum in advanced would have saved you two hours of waiting in line.

It’s a difficult balance to strike. My advice is to plan at most one main activity at the beginning of each day. Once it’s done, you’ll feel accomplished and can decide if have the energy for more activities or more relaxation. On the other hand, planning that activity later in the day keeps you thinking and worrying about it beforehand, meaning your mind can’t be fully at ease.

How to fail at vacation and cut it short

I often hear about coworkers who get bored while on vacation and decide to come back to work after three or four days. I see this as a failed vacation, usually caused by incorrect planning, and not a great use of their time.

For example, a co-worker of mine decided to take a week off and fly to a tropical island to spend time on the beach. After being there for four days, he got bored, and decides to start working remotely. Some might see this as an efficient use of his time – after all, it only took him four days to do what he assumed would take a week. He could even use his remaining vacation days at a later time. However, I think his days were wasted: he spent a couple of days packing, travelling, and getting settled, without fully relaxing and reaching the aforementioned vacation flow. Even worse, he’s now additionaly paying for a hotel to simply do his job.

First, I think he should have left his work computer back home to avoid the temptation of resorting to his usual work habits. Secondly, he could have planned a few fun day trips to give structure to his trip. It’s harder to cut your vacation short if you’ve researched and booked activities for your trip.

How do you plan your time for vacations?

One of the best things about travelling is feeling free. If only for a short period, you are allowed to forget about looming work deadlines, avoid mundane tasks like doing the dishes, and step out of the drama that’s taking place in life. (Some may see this as denial – I see it as clearing your head for a while).

Getting to this state of mental clarity is no easy feat. Being physically elsewhere helps, as the new environment will re-direct our thoughts elsewhere (“I wonder when that church was built?” “What does đang mean in Vietnamese?”). Yet, it’s surprisingly easy to bring too much of that metaphorical baggage with us.

Here are some practical tips to fully break the chain that’s keeping your mind elsewhere:

Set your digital life on pause. 

You should find a way to reconfigure devices and websites so that you’re not tempted (or simply unable) to check work e-mail or anything that might be a huge distraction. It’s great to have a separate phone for work – I simply leave it behind when I go on vacation.

Don’t read the news from your country. 

This will often keep you thinking about any troubles back at home. Although they keep us informed, the news tends to focus mostly on the negative. You owe it to yourself to get away from that for a bit.

Read a book about your destination instead. If you must, you could try and decipher the local newspaper – perhaps even find one that’s in your language. Although I stay away from news in general, I found reading the local news often enhanced my understanding of the country, rarely putting a damper on my mood. 

Find different goals to help direct your thoughts 

Work is such a big part of our lives, we tend to build habits that are hard to break down when we’re away. You probably have some project, problem, or relationship at work that could easily take up your thoughts, leaving you stuck in a loop. Breaking these thought processes is no easy feat.

One technique I use is thinking of a fun and casual goal for the trip or your day. For example, if I’m in a particularly old city, I’ll try to learn the date each building was constructed and a little about its history. If you’re hiking through the forest, identify as many plants, trees, and animals. It’s even fun to turn it into a little competition with your travel buddy. 

Reflecting about your career is fine

 We often travel to learn more about ourselves. The endless stretches of time on a flight or a train are a good opportunity to reflect upon our lives, choices, and careers. It’s one of the reasons I’m so passionate about travel: it’s an opportunity to escape and think clearly for a while. It can help you discover a side of yourself you’ve been ignoring – a latent passion even. 

Despite all the techniques I’ve mentioned above, your thoughts may stray back to work. That’s fine. It’s even better, however, if you can use the time to reflect on what you enjoy, what you’ve been doing well, and what you could change. In other words, focusing these thoughts at the career level should, hopefully, give you some hope and excitement about the future. Conversely, it will help you avoid the tactical, day-to-day thoughts about tasks, projects, and other obligations.