Growing up, my idea of travel was shaped by meticulously organized family trips: Multiple cities — sometimes even several countries — covered in just a couple of weeks, rushing to see and do everything in a finite amount of time. It wasn’t until I began traveling on my own that I noticed my Type B traits didn’t exactly translate well to trip planning. Instead, I often forwent an itinerary, preferring to rely on spontaneity, curiosity, and, occasionally, what I like to call divine intervention. In doing so, my travel experiences became less surface level and even more meaningful.
Thus began my inadvertent introduction to slow travel.