I just returned from a month in Europe. I stayed mostly in one big city, taking time to really sink into this very different place. It was a wonderful experience—of course. Great weather, beautiful old buildings and scenery, amazing wine, new foods to try, and local grocery stores to peruse. I even read a couple of real books. I bought a used bike so I had wheels to get around, and I found a swimming pool that I visited regularly.
But as an independent traveler figuring things out on my own, it was also a bit challenging. I spent half of my first morning just learning how to work the stove, electricity, hot water, and windows. I didn’t know the language. I got lost—a lot! Cycling was sometimes fun and convenient, but often exhausting and terrifying. I had to adjust things—like my coffee order. There was no way this Canadian was going to order an Americano in Europe!
I had unexpected experiences—like taking the wrong bus and ending up somewhere completely different, but lovely. Moments like turning down a little alley and seeing a serene canal with flowers trailing over an old abandoned building were unforgettable. I ate the most delicious cheeses and vegetables, and discovered a great brand of cookie. There were also some big misses—like not seeing a once-in-a-lifetime art exhibition and a famous basilica because I didn’t plan well enough.
I came away with lots of reflections. How have I changed since I traveled in my 20s? Why don’t I sit down and read books at home? What’s the difference between being in a groove and being in a rut? How much do I value familiarity over novelty? Why does something new but not difficult still feel daunting? Why is what I’d read and heard about a place often so different from what I actually experienced?
I felt proud of achieving what might seem like simple things—like finally figuring out how to cycle through a wild, confusing park to get to my friend’s house. I also gained a new appreciation for Canada’s inexpensive and accessible recreation centres. And yes—I really need to get on Duolingo.
Not everyone can—or wants to—travel. There are so many things that can get in the way: finances, work, responsibilities, mobility, or health challenges. But travel is a heightened experience not just because of where we are, but how we are when we’re in a different geography. We’re more relaxed, open to trying new things, willing to ask for help from others, and forced to figure out unfamiliar situations on the fly.
Some of what travel gives us—like doing something scary and succeeding, or letting chance lead us to unexpected places—are things we can bring into everyday life. No matter where you live, there’s something you’ve never seen or done before. Playing tourist locally you can see your own town or city with new eyes. Talking to strangers can be super interesting—wherever you are.
I have a friend who makes dates with herself to explore different local coffee shops throughout Toronto, reading and writing as she would on vacation. What a great way to experience this big city anew! I didn’t conquer Europe, but I did find a great cookie, survive biking, and remembered that trying new things—even badly—is kind of the whole point.