A Misunderstanding of Slow Travel
No doubt you’ve heard the words “slow travel” on a blog post or as the latest hashtag on that travel influencer you follow.
It sounds like a trendy method of traveling. Perhaps like some hygge form of vacationing.
I’ll admit that while I thought that I could always slow down and enjoy myself on vacation, I didn’t exactly comprehend the art of slow traveling. A random book I picked up helped me realize it’s one of the most misunderstood ways to see the world.
After wandering through the Last Bookstore in downtown Los Angeles, I found myself lost in the travel book section (by the way, if you haven’t been to this awesome book store, check it out the next time you’re in LA). I picked up a book that I thought would be a good coffee table kind of read: a travel photography book called Kinfolk Travel: Slower Ways to See the World.
The book was plastic wrapped, so I couldn’t see the inside pages to get a good glimpse of what I was investing in. The title and description intrigued me enough to buy it anyway. The promise of authenticity, to show a different look of a city or landscape, to connect with locals… you get the idea. I thought it sounded right down my alley.
My roommates and I were still in a debate of whether we wanted an ottoman or a coffee table to go with our couch, so the book ended up on my bedroom shelf still wrapped in plastic for protection.
I know, some of you book lovers are probably cringing at the fact I was too concerned about keeping the book nice that I didn’t even open it.
Fast forward to a few months later when I still didn’t have a coffee table in my living room, but I wanted to see the beautiful promised photography inside. As I sat on my bedroom floor turning the pages, I found myself a little disappointed.
This, my friends, is where I am ashamed to say it took me so long to realize I was missing the entire point of the book.
I was expecting to see more enticing photos of famous buildings, mouth-watering street food or colorful wildlife. Instead, many of the photos were what I just saw as gray buildings and close-ups of fabric. I thought “what is this really showing me? Is this really making me want to travel there?”
I put the book back on the shelf and didn’t open it for a while. Occasionally I would glance at the book spine sitting there nice and neat with the rest of my books, but I didn’t think much of it.
Something nagged at me. I felt annoyed. Not at the book, but like there was something I missed and wasn’t getting.
I began to dwell on it more and tried to figure out why the book felt so different from any other travel book I had read.
I was misunderstanding the concept of slow travel.
The best way to know a city/country/place is to slow down. It’s going places by foot, it’s chatting with a local, taking your time to sample the cuisine, and appreciating something that’s different from the spaces in your own home.
It can be so tempting to try and fit in as much as possible (trust me, 80 percent of each of my vacations is like this), but the most memorable parts of a trip for me are when I take my time to savor the details of something new or unique.
This is what that book was trying to teach me.
Understanding a country is about watching the fog slowly cross on a lake in New Zealand or spying some long-distance runners jog across the streets of Seoul. It’s seeing a local’s farm-to-table project in Albania and watching the cable cars in Switzerland whisk hikers up the Alps.
Yes, travel is also appreciating the history and acknowledging the iconic scenes. Sometimes you just need to do the sterotypical things that tourists do like go to the Eiffel Tower or eat pizza in NYC. Those things are famous for a reason and are part of the experience.
However, understanding a culture comes in the big AND small details.
Travel shouldn’t be such a rush to escape our reality, although that’s how many, including myself, plan our trips. We also need to look for those moments to enhance or add to our lives, and we can’t always do that if our day is too jam-packed with not enough moments of quiet.
It’s taking the time to appreciate something new. It’s finding connection.
Kinfolk Travel: Slower Ways to See the World is not your typical travel book and it’s still not one I open up very often, but I’m grateful it gave me the chance to appreciate the connections and understandings I will find on my next adventure. Now when I do open the pages, I find myself staring at the beautiful photography and seeing the joy of the photos’ subjects.
Slow travel doesn’t mean you’re going at a snail’s pace. It’s learning to see beauty in everything. Learning to acknowledge the big ideas and small details in the world around you, which in turn lead us to recognize the beauty in ourselves, our neighbors and our own homes.
