The since discovering slow travel, I’ve realised the weirdest thing—that travelling slowly actually makes my trips seem longer.

I’m on a bit of a woo-woo side of TikTok right now—somehow I’ve gone from “content by ambitious women” to “content about ambitious women who manifest”, somehow. Some of it lands with me, and some of it doesn’t. But the idea that changing your thoughts can change your reality doesn’t sound ridiculous to me; I know that the difference between a good day and a bad day is sometimes the attitude I have about it.

One of the things that a guru has professed is that through manifestation, you can make time slow down, and I don’t agree with the idea in principle—but as an anxious traveller, I think I’ve experienced this in real time.

I think back to times when I’ve had (or, almost-had) anxiety attacks, both when I’m travelling and at home. The feeling often occurs because it feels like life around me is moving too fast, and I’m trying to keep up/catch up, and I’m too burnt out to make it happen, so my body ends up shutting my brain down. This feeling could have only been happening for an hour, or it might have lasted for days—stress at work, chaos in travel planning, or over-exerting my body have all contributed in one way or another. My heart starts beating fast; I have to slow down my breath to stop myself from hyperventilating; often I have to flex my toes, because my extremities feel numb. It’s awful, and speed has a lot to do with it; feeling like the world is speeding around me, and that staying still isn’t an option.

Something else that doesn’t help is my tendency to be mean to myself when this is happening. My brain thinks that slowing down and giving up are the same thing, and my self-talk in these moments isn’t very kind.

What does this have to do with travel? When I was listening to this speaker who’s considered an expert in manifestation, I thought a lot about relativity. The idea that slowing down is a good thing is a lot easier to accept, when you realize that life feels a lot sweeter when you enjoy slowing down—or when you make slowing down enjoyable.

Imagine you’re in line for something—a ticket to a show, meeting your favourite celebrity, getting the new iPhone. And you know you’ll be there about an hour, and you’re frustrated at the time you’re wasting.

Now imagine—the person you have a crush on shows up, and you start chatting. They end up joining you in the line, and for the next hour, you chat, and flirt, and joke. Chances are, you’re going to remember that time as enjoyable. But what really changed? You were still waiting in a line.

The only thing that changed about it was that rather than being frustrated at moving slowly, you started enjoying it. You might even have liked it so much that you wished it had gone on a little longer. Your attention dictated how you experienced the time, instead of the pressure of limited time dividing your attention.

That’s what slow travel is; it’s not getting caught up in the rush, speeding through your trip, or having negative self-talk about the speed at which you’re going. It’s about slowing down, taking in the moment, and making it memorable. When we do this, it is kind of like slowing down time; slowing down our mental monologue gives each moment importance, and refusing to rush through a moment makes it a memory.