When you’re brand-new to travel—or at least, when I was—a strange thing happens: venturing outside your comfort zone starts to feel normal, and suddenly you feel like you have to keep adding more to your to-do list.

My first solo trip was a visit to the Peak District, a nature-filled area of England full of little villages and hamlets. A friend of mine had given me the keys to her family’s cottage—I’d visited once before, so it wasn’t a completely foreign place to me.

Being there alone for a weekend meant doing things that filled me with anxiety (even though I look back at that twenty-something and wonder, what was she afraid of?). Things like wandering around the village going into shops; walking into an empty church that was open to the public; frequenting a book shop that was less “Dewey Decimal System” and more “piles everywhere—good luck finding something”.

As the days went on I got more comfortable, of course. I ventured out to further-away restaurants; I organized a taxi to take me to a National Trust House; I found a Christmas market. The more comfortable I got, the more I felt like I could take on—so I did.

But just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should do something. In the years that followed, both in solo travel and travelling with friends, groups, and partners, I started wanting more out of my trips. More pictures; more amazing meals; more trips to galleries. And I never wanted to go to the same place twice, as it felt like a waste of a ticket (there’s so much of the world I haven’t seen!).

So I tried to do more and more when travelling. And in some ways, I’m glad that I push myself to do lots of things while away!

But there are a lot of things that I wish I hadn’t done, as a direct result of over-extending myself. I’m talking about fending off a panic attack on palace steps, because I refused to slow down until my body sent me panic signals. Or getting heat stroke in Portugal, because I wanted to do just one more village walk.

There are less extreme examples, of course. But when you ask too much from your travel (and yourself) without pausing, it can lead to some negative consequences.

These extreme examples—plus a travel companion who tires easily—all lead me to slow travel. After reflecting on what worked, and what didn’t, about the way I was seeing the world, I realized—I would rather have a trip where I slowly discovered things I really got to take in and enjoy, rather than try to tick off everything on a list and be exhausted on the way home.

Planning a trip where you get to do meaningful activities without over-extending yourself can be a delicate balance. My guideline is usually: plan one activity per day of travel. So, looking at a five-day trip, plan five things (and no more). For me, this probably means a flea market, a museum, a restaurant I’m excited about, the beach if possible, and a local boutique. I might get to all of these over two days; I might space them out. I try not to be disappointed if I don’t get to all of them, and I rank them by which is most important to me so I can prioritize what comes first.  

Having a thing to do every day helps me plan without feeling panicked—but I want to be clear that what works for me might not work for you. You might find that planning fewer activities is more the speed you want, and that’s okay! Finding a pace where you are both excited by where you are and feel mindful about the experience you’re having could take a few trips. That’s completely normal—as long as you’re giving yourself permission to slow down, there isn’t really a wrong way to do slow travel.

How do you find the right pacing when you travel? I hope you’ll let me know in the comments. Happy travels!