
I’m an anxious person, and this used to spell disaster for me when I was away from home.
Until I was about 26, I was dealing with my mental health in ways that didn’t help—toughing it out, reading self-help books, blaming my job for the stress I was under, and wishing that I could just “get it together”.
When these didn’t work, I tried the thing you’re supposed to do: I got help. I found a therapist; I learned some coping mechanisms; I spoke openly with friends and family about my struggles. And I’m happy to say that I improved!
But the improving also meant rethinking some of the choices I was making while travelling. My 20s were full of trips that I look back on knowing that if I’d had the tools I have now, they would have gone very, very differently. I’m thinking specifically about:
-Travelling to Paris while sick because I didn’t want to waste my ticket, then spending the entire four days in bed
-Getting heatstroke in Portugal because I wasn’t listening to my body and kept pushing it past what it was capable of
-Fighting off panic attacks at the end of days where I did tens of thousands of steps because I wanted to keep up with my new hostel friends
…you get the idea. My mental health was suffering, because it felt like when I was on holiday, there were opportunities I’d never get again—so I had to do ALL of them. And rather than check in with myself and ask if it was a good idea—or something I even wanted to do—my anxious nature kicked in, and said “of COURSE we have to!”.
I don’t blame anyone else for my decision-making; my choices were my own. But I see a lot of social media posts that echo the kind of travel pressure I was under: “You HAVE to check out this café next time you’re in Barcelona!” “5 Must-See Museums in Prague” “Can you even say you’ve been to Lisbon if you haven’t been to Belem Tower?”. It can sometimes feel like FOMO when you don’t get to to see what everyone else thinks is worthy.
When travelling, I used to make extensive lists, and tried to see everything I could. And I’d often come home burnt out, exhausted, sometimes sunburnt—and often feeling like I was doing it wrong. Travel wasn’t fulfilling me; it was draining me. I knew I had to make a change.
So I started slowing down while travelling, and incorporating mindfulness into my travel practice. I wrote more while away, scrapbooked based on found paper products, and focussed on what I wanted, not what I felt the pressure to do. And in doing so, I found that slowing down while travelling is really what makes it worthwhile. I call this practice “Slow Travel”. If you’re struggling with anxiety—but you love travel, and want to do it more, or create more memories while doing it—I hope you’ll find this explainer useful.
What Slow Travel Isn’t
Avoiding adrenaline-filled activities. Slow travel doesn’t mean you’re not going to jump out of planes, hike mountain trails, or swim with sharks. If that’s what makes your soul come alive, have at it!
Taking the longest possible flight/train/modes of transport. Although enjoying the journey is part of it, I am in no way advocating for long layovers or taking a 12-hour flight when a 4-hour flight is available. Slow travel is about being mindful about how you spend your time, so don’t spend it on time-wasters.
Running yourself ragged to see everything you must, because of external pressure. TikTok, Instagram, friend recommendations—even this blog, to an extent—will have suggestions for activities and things to do wherever you plan on going. But going places because you feel like there’s a pressure coming from outside yourself isn’t a good use of time, and running through a list of “must-see” activities usually just leads to going from activity to activity without cultivating deep memories. In my experience, it usually also leads to coming home exhausted, which can be difficult if you’re looking for travel to invigorate and refill your cultural “cup”.
What Slow Travel Is
Not over-planning your days until there’s no room to breathe. When you’re in the planning stages of a trip, and you’re thinking about how to make this trip memorable, and meaningful, it’s easy to start making a never-ending list of things to do. Slow travel is about remembering your time is limited, and that you’ll want to linger at places that are exciting, and that you’ll truly enjoy.
Being thoughtful about your travel decisions. Whether that’s where you’re going, or what you’re seeing while you’re there, sometimes we make decisions on autopilot, without taking time to contemplate the “why” behind them. Ask yourself—Am I doing this for me? Or because I want to say I’ve done it/get the pic for Instagram/tick it off the list? There’s no shame in doing things that bring external reward, of course—if they’re things you love doing, that bring/brought you joy, and that created memories that were lasting and meaningful. Slow travel is about enjoying the journey, instead of the pleasure of being able to name-drop the destination.
Being fully present wherever you are. Not being on your phone, thinking about where to go next; not considering how many more things you can tick off your list today; not looking at your smartwatch and trying to get 10,000 more steps in. It’s about taking a deep breath, and slowing down enough to notice the details in the spaces, and asking ourselves how they make us feel—because this is how we make memories, by taking note of what makes things so special. It means noticing what’s different, and trying to immerse yourself fully in the culture of where you’re going. It might even mean picking up mindfulness practices, like journalling or sketching, to remember the specialness of where you’ve been.
Why Slow Travel Helps With Anxiety
Here are the ways that slowing down while travelling has been wonderful for my mental health:
Slow travel helps us remember: travel is challenging. Different languages, different laws and road signs, different customs and norms, different temperatures—everything about leaving your home and making a trip has the potential to set off alarm bells in your head. The more you practice travelling, the less they’ll sound; but understanding that you will be challenged when you travel is important, because it means that you’ll give yourself grace if you try to do too much while travelling and fall short. Keeping your mental health in mind when travelling is so important—you won’t be fully present if your mind is elsewhere; you might look back on the trip remembering nothing but dazed memories; and there’s a potential for danger to your physical health if you’re distracted in unfamiliar scenarios (anything from getting pickpocketed to falling off a trail!).
Slow travel forces us to check in with our mental health, and learn to trust our choices more. I am someone who has resisted for years the tools that would help my mental health, because I saw them as boring or annoying—like yoga, breathing exercises, and meditation. And annoyingly, these things really work and help (does it make them less boring? Not really. But you can’t argue with what works). I feel the same way about a lot of the practices I’ve had to adopt as a slow traveller. It’s hard to check in with yourself so much; it’s emotional labour to be constantly checking in with yourself and ensure you feel balanced. Am I feeling excited, or is this adrenaline coming from a place of anxiety? Am I walking fast because I’m enjoying the song I’m listening to, or do I feel hurried? Is this museum one I’m excited for, or am I just going because everyone’s telling me that a trip to Paris isn’t complete without a trip to the Louvre? Are all questions I ask myself. And sometimes, the answers are really hard to find—I second-guess myself a lot, especially as someone who overthinks. But the practices of doing pulse checks with myself have made me feel more capable; I trust my inner voice more because of them.
We get better memories when we travel slower, which makes travel feel less daunting and more enjoyable. You might think that slowing down while travelling might mean seeing less while travelling. My experience has been the opposite of this; forcing myself to pause, reflect, and linger while travelling makes me notice all the little details my eyes would gloss over if I was speeding through town: the boutique hotel’s signature napkins. The flower species I’d never seen before. A couple on their first date. These are the stories that I walk away from a trip with, rather than saying I went to a famous landmark and it was “nice”—it’s the details of being in an entirely new place that have us come home with stories, and that push us to look forward to our next trip. I’ve found that if you look long enough, you’re bound to find something in a new place that thrills you, makes you gasp, prompts you to take out your phone and snap a pic—but first, we need to let ourselves slow down and look.
