31. Slow Travel
and why I stopped counting countries
I’m writing this from an old polar rig, now a hotel, in the northernmost city in the world - Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Sounds cool, right? (By the time this goes out, I’ll be back home).
I’ve fallen in love with slow travel, and I want to share what it means to me.
If you’ve played open-world games, you’ve probably used “fast travel” to jump quickly from point A to point B. Slow travel is the opposite. You’re not rushing to your next destination. If you truly enjoy the game, you take the long road. Driving across the map, or riding a horse through valleys, just to soak it all in.
That’s slow travel. You enjoy the journey. You’re not racing through a checklist or chasing the next photo spot. You’re simply living in a different place, in a different rhythm.
It wasn’t always like this for me. When I first started travelling, I was obsessed with counting countries. I wanted to keep adding more, ticking off names on a list. Now, I’ve stopped counting altogether. I chase experiences instead. I ask myself: Where can I find this feeling, this moment, this view? Sometimes that means going to a new place. Other times, it means returning to a country I’ve already visited. Because the experience I’m seeking lives there. Travel isn’t a competition, though social media can make it seem like one.
For me, travelling better is about noticing more, and photography helps with it to an extent. When I look at things through a viewfinder, I’m in that moment for a bit longer, and I notice a bit harder.
I love going to supermarkets in new places, just to see what people buy, what’s on the shelves, and how different (or similar) everyday life feels. I love walking without any destination, just letting the streets decide where I end up. Taking public transport is fun. Sitting somewhere and noticing people tells you a lot about the place. Observing how houses are built is exciting. These moments aren’t on anyone’s “must-see” list, but they’re often the ones I remember most. And I guess, what makes all of this a lot more fun is travelling with the right person.
I live with a voice in my head that rarely stops talking. It questions, plans, reminds, and worries. But when I travel in the wild, quiet places like Svalbard, that voice softens. Sometimes it goes silent. Sounds of nature can be very calming. The only sounds left are birds calling, wind moving through valleys, and the hush of falling snow or rain.
I no longer keep a rigid itinerary. Sure, I have a rough plan and book a few things in advance, but I leave plenty of space for nothing in particular. That’s when the best moments happen. I stumble upon something I didn’t plan for, or simply sit somewhere and notice the world.
Slow travel is about how a place makes me feel. The stillness it brings, the small details it reveals, the way it changes me without me even realising.
In the end, slow travel is a choice to live fully in the present. To collect moments that stay with you long after the trip is over.
These days I tend to travel “like a tourist”, trying to know from what I see and what I hear while traveling than loading informations from other sources.