When Did Holidays Become So Busy?

Jul 29

3 min read

Somewhere along the way, we started believing that a good holiday was a busy holiday.

We measure it by how many places we visited, how many photographs we took and how much we managed to fit into each day. We return home with full camera rolls, souvenirs tucked into our suitcase and a long list of places we've "done."

Yet when I stop and think about the holidays I remember most, they aren't the busiest ones.

They're the ones where I can still remember the feeling.

The warmth of the evening sun as I wandered back to my hotel in Taormina

The sound of church bells drifting across a quiet square in Matera

A long lunch that somehow turned into an entire afternoon in Malcesine

Watching the sea change colour as the sun began to set in Ibiza

Those are the moments that stay with us.

Not because they were on an itinerary.

But because, for just a little while, we stopped rushing long enough to notice them.

I wonder when we started believing that seeing more meant experiencing more.

Perhaps it's because holidays have become so precious. We save for them, plan them and look forward to them for months. Once we're there, it's easy to feel that we should make every minute count.

We arrive with a list of places we "must" visit, restaurants we "have" to try and viewpoints we don't want to miss. Before we know it, we're checking our watches more often than we're looking at the view.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to explore. Travel has always been about discovering somewhere new. But I've started to wonder whether the real joy of travel lies somewhere else.

Perhaps it's in allowing a place to reveal itself slowly.

Staying long enough to become familiar with the walk to the bakery each morning.

Ordering another coffee because there's nowhere else you need to be.

Sitting on a harbour wall watching fishing boats come and go without feeling guilty that you're "wasting" time.

Those moments rarely make it onto a holiday checklist, yet they're often the ones that stay with us long after we've unpacked our suitcase.

This month, while putting together Departure Lounge and Anchors Away, I've found myself returning to the same thought again and again.

The greatest luxury in travel isn't always a five-star hotel or a balcony cabin.

Sometimes it's simply having the time to slow down.

To notice.

To breathe.

To let a destination become more than a photograph.

Maybe that's why so many of my favourite places are the ones that invite you to linger. A lakeside promenade where the biggest decision is which café to choose. A small Greek harbour where the afternoon slips quietly into evening. A whitewashed street in Puglia where life seems to unfold at its own gentle pace.

None of those moments can be rushed.

Perhaps that's their gift.

So, as you begin thinking about your next holiday, I'd like to leave you with one question.

Instead of asking, "How much can I fit in?"

What if you asked,

"How do I want to feel when I come home?"

Because I have a feeling the holidays we'll remember most won't be the ones where we saw everything.

They'll be the ones where, for a little while, we gave ourselves permission to slow down and simply be there.

This article is part of our August theme, The Art of Travelling Slowly, a month-long conversation exploring how travelling with a little less haste can often bring a little more joy