Why “Seeing the Sights” Might Be Selling Your Vacation Short
When I was 15, I packed two suitcases and moved to a country I'd never been to.
Growing up, I spoke Spanish with my grandparents but had never been truly forced to speak it daily and learn different idioms and speech patterns and how to fit my sarcastic personality into my new Peruvian identity.
But I went. I didn't know the customs. I didn't have a comfort zone to cling to. I was an exchange student, and everything about that year forced me to live inside a new culture, not just observe it.
I didn't realize it at the time, but that experience rewired how I would approach travel for the rest of my life.
It taught me how to be somewhere instead of just going somewhere.
As a travel advisor, I see this all the time: thoughtful, curious people who want a meaningful experience getting swept up in the pressure to "see it all". In the age of consumerism and capitalism, it's not hard to be jaded by the need to have it all, do it all, see it all.
They bounce from one major landmark to another, checking off big sights, following a well-trodden path. And sure (!) those sights are famous for a reason.
But when that's all your trip is built around, it's easy to come home with full camera rolls and empty stories.
That exchange year showed me what travel can really do: it can change you. When you're really immersed, you start to notice the way people move, speak, eat, and even breathe differently. You make mistakes. You get lost. You learn how to ask for help. You learn how to be quiet and observe. You even learn that that pepper you've been eyeing in the fridge that looks like a banana pepper.... is not a banana pepper (and there is not enough milk in the world to settle that hot mouth).
And eventually, something in you shifts.
These days, I don't measure a great trip by how many bucket-list items I checked off. I ask: Did I feel something? Did I learn something? Did I let myself be changed by where I was?
Of course, I still love the highlights. I'll never tell someone to skip the Louvre or the Colosseum. But I also leave space for the hidden alley café with chipper teacups, the old man sweeping his doorstep at sunrise, the conversations in a different language where we both just laugh and point.
Those moments are quieter, but they linger longer.
This is the kind of travel I now plan for my clients: immersive, story-rich, and thoughtfully paced. We start with iconic landmarks, but then we slow down. We make time to wander. We choose experiences that connect you to the people and the rhythm of a place.
And if you've never done this type of travel before, I encourage you to leave even just a few hours in your schedule to allow yourself to wander with no itinerary, expectations, or preconceived notions.
What magic might you be able to find that's waiting for you?
