Collecting moments not miles – the art of slow travel

I recently returned from a three week (mostly) solo trip to Greece, which prompted a conversation in my local pub around what sights I ticked off while I was there. If I was in Greece for three whole weeks, surely I saw everything. Yes, I did visit the Acropolis one golden early morning, but otherwise, I have no bucket-list tourist hot spots to share snaps of. 

Rather, I have countless tales of sipping negronis on rooftops while watching the sunset, chatting to locals on a remote beach I walked for an hour to reach, eating freshly caught fish in a restaurant where no one is turned away and tables gradually sprawl down the street, and spending entire days alternating between reading my book in a clifftop bar and clambering down stone steps for long swims. As I explained to the patrons I was chatting to in the pub, I would much rather soak up my surroundings and linger over meaningful moments than rush around a new place trying to tick off what a guidebook tells me I should see.

I am a collector of moments, not miles, it seems. Over the past decade, I have adopted a slower pace to my travels, gradually realising that I prefer to focus on quality, rather than quantity when it comes to exploring the world. I like to embed myself in a destination for at least a couple of weeks, really getting to know the place as a temporary local. I want to unearth the heart of the destinations that I visit, to meet the people who live there, and to discover meaningful moments that will become treasured memories. 

“Slow travel” has become somewhat of a buzzword in recent years but, to me and many others, it is much more of a permanent philosophy than a fleeting fad. It involves making conscious decisions about where, when and how you travel, literally slowing down the pace that you discover new places while also lessening your impact on both the environment and the local infrastructure.

It isn’t formulaic – everyone’s version of slow travel will be different. Perhaps it means choosing long train journeys or cinematic road trips over hopping on a plane; maybe it’s all about saving the majority of your annual leave for one epic adventure each year, where you spend three to four weeks really getting to know your destination; or you could focus your travels around staying in small hotels owned by proprietors who guide their guests towards off-the-beaten-track local delights. Also consider why you are travelling to a particular destination. Giving meaning to your trips helps you to understand what you want to get out of your time there, whether that’s trying new cuisines, soaking up the local culture or simply switching off. Whatever you choose to focus on, it all comes back to quality over quantity: it doesn’t matter how many places you visit or how many sights you tick off a list, what really defines slow travel is savouring those small moments that set your senses alight. 

If you’re conscious of your carbon footprint, it’s good to know that slow travel and sustainability go hand-in-hand. When you choose to take less flights, spend more time in one location, invest in the local economy and embrace cultural differences, you’re lessening your impact on the environment at the same time. You’re also relieving stress, encouraging creativity, and improving both your physical and mental health as a slower pace of travel usually means spending more time outdoors. Unless your travel tastes lean more towards the luxury side of slow travel, you’re also likely to save money – camping trips are much more aligned to slow travel than all-inclusive resorts!

If you let go of the urge to see and do as much as possible, you forge deeper connections to the places that you visit. Your whole perspective on why you love to travel will shift, you’ll enjoy more authentic experiences, and you’ll return home feeling more fulfilled and inspired. 

When I look back on how I used to travel in my teens and twenties, I remember returning home feeling exhausted. Scurrying around cities on long weekend getaways, trying to “complete” as many European capitals as possible. I had no chance of discovering the real heart of these cities that the locals know and love. On one particular occasion, I actually printed off itineraries for all of my friends for a four-day trip to Berlin. Needless to say, we spent the entire time rushing around trying to do everything and barely got a chance to actually enjoy living in the moment. That trip was the catalyst for me to begin evaluating the pace at which I travelled.

Funnily enough, none of my most treasured travel memories are from a time prior to that exhausting Berlin holiday; they’re all of more recent experiences. Spending two days on a completely off-grid Swedish cabin, swimming to and from the sauna and reading a book beside the lake. Sitting half-way up a French mountain I’d just climbed, watching how the view transformed as the clouds floated by and the sun gradually set. Hiking the Costa Brava coast, stopping in small coves along the way for swims and tapas. The incredible Lebanese takeaway I discovered last month in Athens, lurking just around the corner from a street lined with bustling touristy restaurants. Picking tomatoes for dinner in a polytunnel in Devon. Reading a book curled up in bed in a cosy cabin in the Yorkshire countryside. Through these moments and countless others, I’ve discovered that the more you allow yourself to linger over what brings you joy, the more you will get out of it. It doesn’t matter how many miles you travel, what matters is those meaningful moments that you savour. 

I am sometimes asked if documenting the places that I visit is the antithesis of slow travel. “What’s slow about waking up for sunrise or taking hundreds of photographs?” There’s definitely an association between fast-paced travel and taking a token shot of every landmark you visit, but capturing unhurried, purposeful frames of your journeys through photographs, sketches or journaling is the perfect way to preserve your memories. Rather than taking the same photograph of a sight that everybody visits, pause and seek out the details that resonate with you: the way the light travels across a landscape, local people going about their lives, and the everyday beauty you encounter. If you then preserve these treasured memories in a photo book, you can relive them every time you flick through the pages.

For me, slow travel is less about following footprints and more about those fleeting moments that can’t be replicated. You can seek out recommendations for a favourite restaurant, a scenic beach or a welcoming guesthouse, but your individual experiences are yours alone. Allowing yourself to investigate that intriguing alleyway that catches your eye, taking the time to wander to the quiet cove that a local pointed you in the direction of, or noticing and photographing the way the light hits the side of a mountain at a particular time of day are all memories you make for yourself. Be curious, immerse yourself in your surroundings, and let go of that notion that travel is a competition to see and do as much as possible.