Typically, by mid-October, I would have decked out our front porch with pumpkins and floating candles, but we’ve been busy with birthday parties, doctor’s appointments, and weddings—how life goes some seasons. I hope you’re embracing the spooky spirit wherever you are.

Most weeks, I aim to bring you tactical content—news you can use, if you will. How to pack a carry-on and backpack for 10 days, the dos and don’ts of rental car insurance, how to rack up 175,000 points for your favorite airline.

Today, I’m sharing something personal that’s been looming large in my mind over the last few months. It is a sensitive topic, but one I’m okay being vulnerable about, so I hope you’ll give it a read. That said, I’m not looking for advice; this is my journey to sort through.

A big part of Departure is our community, though, and I’m eager to hear your stories and experiences surrounding parenthood and travel, if you feel open to sharing. (Plus, there are myriad reasons one might not be able to travel apart from the parenthood conundrum—financial constraints, injury and illness, caretaking.) Regardless, I hope you find this essay worth the time.

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CW: This post involves mentions of parenthood, fertility, and pregnancy.

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As a child, my mother would tell me, “You can have most things, but not everything.” She didn’t mean materially; she meant that 80% of your life could be wonderful—your marriage, your family, your health—but you might struggle with the last 20%, perhaps your career or your network. The circumstances of your life will never add up to 100% perfection. Though she wasn’t speaking about being a woman specifically, it was akin to the oft-repeated phrase, “Women can’t have it all.”

As the textbook high-achieving eldest daughter, I had come to believe I could in fact have it all, if I just tried hard enough. I could inch toward the totality of a wonderful life.

Now in my mid-30s, my mother’s words ring true for a different reason—one I didn’t really expect. The majority of my close friends who’ve wanted children have had them by now, while others remain emphatically childfree. Everyone seems to have firmly made their decision.

Me…not so much. Travel is a big reason why.

Some friends feel as though they were destined to be parents; others sensed their biological clocks ticking away and decided to move forward, despite their ambivalence. I always thought I would be a parent, but I didn’t necessarily feel called to it—“mother” would be part of my identity, but not my core label. If you told me I couldn’t have any children, I would be devastated. But while there is a semblance of compulsion, there isn’t urgency.

In my teenage years, I told myself I wanted four kids. By the time I met my husband, I said maybe two or three, given the financial investment. Today, I think I’d be happy with one, maybe two. It feels like a substantial part of the life I want, though not necessarily any more substantial than my career or love of travel.

But when your career and love of travel begin to merge—the messy blurring of two formerly separate identities—therein lies a newer, more tender tension in choosing to expand your family, particularly for women.

I’m 35, entering the antiquated era of “geriatric pregnancy” (though more and more women are choosing to have children later in life), and my chronic health conditions make it more or less mandatory to move forward sooner rather than later. By saying yes to that metaphorical journey, though, I would have to turn down many other literal ones, at a time when Departure seems to be growing. Setting pregnancy aside, my body has its own say in how I move through the world. Sometimes, the shift from literal travel to armchair travel isn’t a choice—it’s a limit I have to plan around. The idea of not traveling for months at a time, even if pregnancy is a worthwhile reason, feels overwhelmingly sad.

When my husband and I froze our embryos at the end of 2025, we told ourselves we’d wait until mid-summer or early fall and then take the next step. I planned a big solo trip designed as one last hurrah before parenthood, and we front-loaded our vacations with the agreement that the second half of the year would be family-focused.

Then, in the middle of the summer, I discovered that my lower limb pain may be related to vein issues. I sought treatment, and doctors told me that delaying pregnancy until these procedures were done would be best. So we kicked the can down the road, holding back on any major travel plans. (Good news: The treatment has so far worked, though it doesn’t change the clock.)

Now I sit at a friction point, up against conflicting priorities: Do I pursue the momentum Departure has—and by proxy, my love of travel—and risk waiting? Or do I forge ahead with an intentional long pause, knowing my life on the other side might be completely different—perhaps even lacking two other priorities that presently give me so much purpose? To be sure, this is a conundrum many women have faced (maybe not about travel writing, per se), but the tensions between growing your career and growing your family are increasingly common.

Around this time of year, I sometimes start to envision myself with a baby dressed up for Halloween, or caressing a small bump, posing in front of a decorated tree. Every so often, I daydream of the new holiday rituals my husband and I would create with a renewed joy around Thanksgiving and Christmas. I see us traveling with a child in tow, watching as they experience the world for the first time. Then I remember these are all ideals—there is no such promise of that future, only a hopeful wishing.

When I hear of a spooky tour around Transylvania or the opportunity to join a Rwandan safari, my ears perk up. I lazily dream of visiting San Miguel de Allende with friends, or trying a short stint in London with my husband. I bubble with excitement at the idea of landing another big interview or partnership. These, too, are ideals, not guarantees for what lies ahead.

In both scenarios, there’s so much to hope for—and to worry about. So when presented with momentum in two divergent directions, the tension feels tauter than ever: How do you choose?

It is easy enough to tell myself that I can tackle all three: I can transfer an embryo and pursue travel writing while working full-time—and if and when I move along in pregnancy, I can pause where needed. I can hit the road again when we’re ready, now as a family of three. I can find joy in my family and my home when travel feels infeasible; I’m a homebody after all.

It’s also easy enough to tell myself that a pause doesn’t have to mean a full stop.

The reality, especially with chronic illness and in my later 30s, will likely look different. It could be fraught with complications, a longer delay than intended, or even regret, missing the life I used to have. Friends who used to travel the globe now candidly tell me how much more complicated and difficult it is to hop on the road, or that they give so much of themselves between work and parenthood that the thought of traveling fades away entirely.

There is no magic ball that will give me a crystal clear picture of our future.

What I do have, though, is the past. Memories with my parents exploring the caverns of the Grand Canyon, building sandcastles on the beach off the Atlantic City boardwalk, sitting in the backseat silently in awe of forest green trees on our way up to Niagara Falls. I’ve never asked my mom how she did it while having two kids one year apart, working full-time, and taking care of her in-laws, though I’m sure she’d admit it was a hurdle. Yet those moments have deeply shaped not just our time together, but also who I am today. She had me at 38.

Sometimes, sitting with this makes me feel claustrophobic, like these life choices are closing in on me. But after typing all of this out, I also feel…free. There is no right answer, it’s not all-or-nothing, and my life will expand and mold over time. My priorities might shift away from travel writing at large, but in my gut, I know my passion for seeing the world and pursuing an ambitious career will remain, whatever my family looks like. I know this because I’ve seen it modeled for me.

I won’t ever be able to hit 100%—my mom assured me that much is true—but maybe I can get to 95%. And that’s pretty damn close.

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• 👡 My all-time favorite shoes are 25% off through 10/19. I own two pairs and wear them every single day at home and when traveling, so much so that my friends poke fun at me.

• 💳 Q4 means new quarterly credits for my fellow AmEx Platinum holders: $100 Resy credit and $75 at lululemon. Here’s what I’d recommend from lululemon as the seasons change.

• 📚 Ordered a few books I’ve been itching to read, taking advantage of Bookshop.org’s Anti-Prime Day free shipping: Under Story by Chloe Benjamin, The Disappearers by Marlon James (being touted as the “novel of the century!”), Music Against the Night by Yiyun Li (out this week and Ann Patchett’s favorite book of the year), Switzy by Emma Cline, and The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett. I’d love to know what you’re reading! And, if you want to get some books of your own, here’s a link for 20% off.

• ❤️‍🔥 How Indigenous communities are reclaiming the travel experience—and how their stories should be told. (Nat Geo)

• 🍂 Finally:

See you next week! —Henah x

I hope the start of October is treating you well, and I come with personal news to share: What began as a “test” newsletter two summers ago has now evolved into a fully fledged LLC. That’s right, you’re looking at Departure LLC—with its own EIN, business bank account, and CPA. We’re official, baby!

Departure will earn five figures in revenue this year, both a spectacle and an honor, but that also means it was time to take the next step (tax purposes, you see). I could wax poetic about how much this newsletter and community mean to me, but I’ll spare you. Just know that, with this new milestone and momentum, I am incredibly grateful for every single reader here. Thank you, thank you.

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I was discussing this evolution with a colleague-turned-friend, Annie, and we organically stumbled upon the topic of editing. Writing this weekly can be a lonely effort, as I click-clack away on the couch, and sometimes, it’s easy to miss typos, redundancies, or grammatical mistakes. Annie then offered to become a weekly editor for me, a gracious gesture given her day job also as an editor and the author of her own newsletter, and I immediately said yes. And of course, I will be compensating her. It’s a write-off, right? (Kidding.)

Additionally, Annie had an upcoming trip, and she pitched me an essay idea (shared below), but it ultimately left me thinking: Can six cities in less than two weeks qualify as slow travel? When travel isn’t as straightforward as choosing your own schedule or destination, how do you make a trip your own? I deeply appreciated her part-guide (should you end up in Europe any time soon), part-reflection, and I hope you do, too.

PS: My inbox is open to pitches for guest guides or personal essays. Have a place you want to tell the world about? An adventure that changed your life? DM me—let’s talk!

When I was in my 20s, an ex put the Billy Joel classic “Vienna” on a mixtape for me. I loved the song, and I took it literally, figuring there would come a time when I could set aside my hustle, my ambition, my drive, the need to get every last thing done right here right now. Someday I’d be able to “take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while.” Vienna would wait for me.

So I went ahead with the predictable eldest-daughter playbook: I got married at 25, changed jobs, ran a marathon, bought a house, had a kid. I’d always wanted to travel, but I only left the United States twice before I turned 35.

Then, by the middle of a global pandemic, I was caring for my toddler son and saying yes to too many freelance gigs while searching for an exit from a rapidly deteriorating marriage. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and burned out. Oh, and I couldn’t feel my legs. (Stay with me.)

Fast-forward: I got a divorce, met a kind bassist on Hinge, moved to the same neighborhood as my best friend of 30 years, and landed a great job that offers unlimited PTO. The catch? It’s the legs—five years ago, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

MS affects everyone differently, and my symptoms are invisible to others but ever-present to me. My legs always feel weak and almost like they’re fading out of focus: not numb, not tingly, just not…right. In general, moving my body makes me feel better, but it’s possible to overdo it, and if any one thing goes awry—I don’t get enough sleep, or I’m undernourished, or I have one too many glasses of Grüner Veltliner (easy to do! It’s so quaffable!)—the fatigue can become insurmountable.

I’m now 40, and I’ve taken seven international trips in six years—all with a chronic illness. Two of those trips have been on tour with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, where my husband, Brandon, plays the bass.

Rather than be crabby that I missed out on extensive travel when I was the sort of person who ran pretty routine half marathons, I’ve instead accepted that these European tours come with a kind of freedom: My itinerary is set by my spouse’s employer, and my activities are limited by my body’s willingness to cooperate. There’s no fear of missing out. Missing out is just part of the package. My only responsibility is making the most of it.

In early September, I joined the latest tour—12 days across six European cities. My hope in sharing our itinerary is that this guide proves useful to two types of travelers: Those with chronic illnesses or disabilities, and those who find themselves with basically zero say over when and where they’re traveling. Here’s how I relished every moment, and took care of myself.

Days 1–3, Hamburg

I arrived in Hamburg after nearly 24 hours of travel including two layovers, and I was wrecked. My dear friend Katelyn, who was in Europe for a wedding and therefore already over the jet lag, met me there and supported my self-care: dinner at the hotel bar, a collagen mask, and 10 hours of sleep.

At my husband’s suggestion, Katelyn and I decamped to Miniatur Wunderland after breakfast the next morning. It is, ostensibly, a model train museum. But it is actually a massive warehouse of tiny worlds, a marvel of human ingenuity and creativity. It took us three hours to walk through it, and by the time we reached the under-construction diminutive rainforest, I was ready for a sit. We had a leisurely lunch and then passed by St. Nikolai on the way back to the hotel before a (predictably, given the name) boozy dinner at Whiskyplaza.

A boozy dinner is…not something my body loves anymore. The following afternoon, self-care advocate Katelyn suggested massages—a no-brainer—before the first of many classical concerts. I try to get a massage routinely in my regular life and always aim for at least one when I travel. It helps to refocus my legs and relax my muscles after long walks. (Editor’s note from Henah: See what I said about massages being a worthwhile travel ritual?)

On my third day in Hamburg, now over the jet lag and reinvigorated by the massage, Brandon and I walked six miles all over the city, on a sunny, breezy day with temperatures in the 60s, which was gorgeous after a hot sticky summer in Pittsburgh. We had dinner before a concert at the same restaurant a second night in a row.

We’d encountered a block full of Portuguese restaurants earlier in the day, and we never ventured farther than our feet could carry us. I’m sure Hamburg has more to offer from a culinary standpoint. So did I maybe miss out on a stellar dinner somewhere else? Yes. Did I have two great dinners anyway? Also yes. Zero FOMO.

Days 4–6, Lucerne

We flew from Hamburg to Zurich, then hopped on a bus to get from Zurich to Lucerne, both chartered by the symphony, and we only had the time and energy for a stroll and a quick lunch before Brandon’s next concert.

The following morning, I walked to a laundromat to knock out a few loads of wash while Brandon rehearsed. (He often jokes that it’s cheaper to fly me across the Atlantic than to pay for a hotel to handle mid-tour laundry, and I will totally take that deal!) By the time he got out of rehearsal, it was hot, nearing 90 degrees Fahrenheit, and heat can exacerbate my MS symptoms.

So we did the only thing we could do to protect my health: We rode a gondola up to Pilatus and had an Aperol Spritz on a mountaintop, where it was in the mid-60s and downright chilly in the shade. One of my favorite things about Europe is the broad availability of spritzes. A fortress that’s stood since the 1500s? Aperol Spritz. Museum? Aperol Spritz. Literally the most beautiful vista you’ve seen in your life? Aperol Spritz! Not only was it a memorable way to spend an afternoon, but the altitude also spared me from enduring the only hot day in the forecast.

When I awoke the next day, I felt like the pace of the trip was starting to wear on me a bit, but it was one of my husband’s few days off, and there’s nothing he loves more than a walking tour, so I decided to power through. I knew I could take a beat when we got to Cologne, so we bought way too much expensive Swiss chocolate for the child, had two lovely meals, and logged 17,000 steps.

Days 7-9, Cologne, Amsterdam, Essen

The schedule called for just one day in each of these cities, and we traveled between them by symphony-chartered plane and/or bus, save for a train to Amsterdam.

We arrived in Cologne on a Sunday, and many of the attractions we’d hoped to hit were closed, so I spent the evening holed up in the hotel bar, catching up on writing and emails. We only had time to take in a small slice of Essen on foot, but I was charmed by what I saw. Next time, I hope to visit the Zollverein Coal Mine Industrial Complex, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Brandon and I opted to go our own way to travel to Amsterdam because it gave us more time on the ground, and I can earnestly recommend a single day there.

Having less than 24 hours in a city allows you to let go. FOMO is simply not a consideration; you cannot hit all the museums and points of interest and historical sites and restaurants your friends recommended…but you can get a real sense of the place.

You can stumble out of the train station and immediately commence an audio-guided walking tour. You can get a nourishing lunch at a restaurant in Chinatown, which you wandered into thanks to the walking tour. You can enjoy serendipitous gelato. You can dine solo in a cafe before a concert at your new favorite European concert hall. It’s a pretty stellar 24 hours, yeah?

Days 10–12, Vienna

Vienna was the only city I’d previously visited; it was also a stop on the symphony’s tour in 2024. Two years ago, I was terrified that Vienna wouldn’t live up to the romantic city that I’d been imagining for nearly 15 years.

It is better.

I’ve now spent two multiday stints there, bopping around with my husband, touring palaces, detouring for tortes and coffees, pondering paintings, and never once encountering a disappointing white wine. Every meal was special, from an early dinner the day we arrived to small sandwiches and smaller beers—a pfiff!—before taking an elevator to the top of St. Stephan.

“Vienna”—the song—contains lots of nuggets of wisdom that I largely failed to heed in my youth: “And you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.​”

And it took more than one red flag for me to shift gears so I could finally get to Vienna (the place). It required (at least) four: This essay, this album, a worldwide calamity, and my body sending unceasing signals that something was terribly wrong.

In my invincible 20s, it never occurred to me to add “remain free of debilitating neurological disorders” to my list of dreams​, and I didn’t need to. It turns out seeing the world at a slower pace on someone else’s itinerary is my favorite way to do it.

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• 👀 Similar to Sky Key—which monitors your booked flights and rebooks/refunds you the difference if the price drops—the team at just announced the Price Drop feature for Premium and Elite members, and Thrifty Traveler just did the same with “FareTracker” which is free. While not as automated as Sky Key, it’s a nod to how “all-in-one” Going can be for travelers, so it may be worth checking out if you’re already an avid user of either. Should I run a comparison? 🤔

• ✈️ Speaking of flights, Google just released trends for holiday travel. If you’re planning to fly between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, check out the optimal dates to book. (Hint: It’s likely earlier than last year.)

• 📕 If you’ve ever thought about the tightrope of your career and capitalism with parenthood, you might be interested in reading Fallow, a new release from Sarah Anderson. I’m about two-thirds in and it’s taken a dizzying turn, but I’m curious to see how this ends. Here’s the brief: “A young woman signs up to be the world’s first in-house corporate surrogate, then finds herself caught up in a social experiment of another kind.”

• 🚗 A horror movie road trip? Say less. (Yahoo!)

• 🔕 A bit of an oldie but a goodie: shares the power of traveling for silence (and, by proxy, the benefits of slow, quiet travel). ()

See you next week! —Henah x

Greetings from New York City, where I’m posted up for work this week. It’s officially fall, with crisp morning temperatures and a cool evening breeze, and I am savoring every minute.

It felt like the perfect weather to settle in on the couch and answer some of your questions—from how I can afford to travel regularly to who I’m following nowadays for travel expertise, I hope you enjoy this Ask Me Anything. If you have other questions, leave them in the comments for consideration in my next AMA!

Departure is a weekly newsletter focused on travel for women. Subscribe for a new edition in your inbox every Thursday, or consider a paid subscription to enter giveaways, access the archives, and support small writers. 💌

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“Where would you go for a week last-minute in October?” —Alison M.

October is my favorite month—it’s gorgeous nearly everywhere, and not too cold just yet. I would head to upstate New York, New England, or the Catskills to see the foliage change and curl up with a book by a cozy fire every evening.

It’s also the beginning of off-season/shoulder season in Europe, so I would look there if there’s a place you’ve been wanting to visit; Transylvania in Romania could fit the mood around Halloween, while Madeira, Portugal, Cyprus or Malta, or the Azores might be less-crowded destinations that still feel a little like “Mediterranean summer.”

“Who are your top 5 travel pages that you’ve discovered recently that would be new to us? Substack or IG!” —Jeannie K.

Truthfully, I could do a better job of scoping out new sources or follows—I’m a creature of habit, and my daily media diet is pretty routine. That said, I am a huge fan of Juliet Kinsman (sustainability and travel editor), Katalina Mayorga (founder of El Camino Travel and behind The Business of Experiences), Stephen Satterfield (food journalist and textile operator), Daniel Scheffler of Without Maps, and Monica Mendal of So There’s This Place.

How do I talk to my partner about traveling solo and help him worry less about my safety?” —Samantha P.

If you can navigate any mid- to major-sized city in the US alone, I feel confident you can travel solo anywhere! That said, I have several safety tips:

• Always share your location with someone you trust, ideally someone in the vicinity in case of emergency.

• Book a stay in either a short-term rental like an Airbnb with a personal host who can meet you, or a larger chain like a hotel with a concierge.

• Prioritize a good location over anything else; it’s worth paying extra for the peace of mind.

• Schedule your flight to land or your train to arrive during daylight hours.

• Look for reviews that mention safety specifically, particularly ones that include “solo traveler” in the review. What’s safe for a couple or family might feel different for you.

• Give your partner a thorough rundown of your plan before you head out, pre-establish times to connect, follow the above, and trust your gut. You got this.

“Super curious about your career journey to travel writing—what has that looked like? Do you have a day job?” —Alexandra M.

I do! I’ve worked at Morning Brew for nearly five years, four of which were on the brand Money with Katie. I’m now a managing producer for multimedia, so I work with reporters and editors on stories across B2B news. I’m incredibly grateful for the stability and flexibility my full-time work allows me (being remote with unlimited PTO is a true gift), because it gives me a lot of space to dedicate to Departure.

The TL;DR of my journey to travel writing: My co-founder and I worked in digital media and often pitched travel stories, but they were never really a dedicated vertical. We decided to try building out a travel-dedicated Substack in the summer of 2024, and when she rolled off due to time constraints, I told myself I’d keep writing weekly until it stopped being fun.

Two years later, here I am—across 80+ countries, 4,000+ readers, and landing partnerships I’ve only ever dreamed of. I feel very, very lucky, in addition to working very, very hard (new content every single week alongside a full-time job and other commitments isn’t always easy). This is to say: It’s still fun! Please go pursue the thing you can’t stop thinking about.

“How does someone afford to travel so often? Not judging, I want to do it too! ;)” —Kristin G.

The honest truth is that my husband and I are both high earners in our day jobs, and we don’t (yet) have children. Ultimately, that combination leaves a lot of room in our budget—when we prioritize it. My husband does not care for travel the way I do, so sometimes we don’t prioritize it and redirect those funds to house projects or local entertainment.

I also almost never spend money on clothes, shoes, bags, etc. I’m not a big shopper (given my background in ethical and sustainable fashion), and I do not have Amazon Prime, so most of my disposable income goes toward home decor, books, or travel.

Departure has also grown substantially; this will be my first year making five figures of revenue from my newsletter (never thought I’d be able to type that sentence!), so I re-invest that money into fueling more trips.

“How to approach travel on a super budget? Tips on just starting?” —Katie L.

Back in the 2010s, I was making anywhere between $40,000 and $60,000 working in New York City, which is to say, my income did not go very far. Getting into points and miles was actually by necessity, and it allowed me to see the world without worrying about racking up debt.

I recommend easing into the points and miles game. A reliable under-$100 card with a valuable sign-up bonus like the Chase Sapphire Preferred is almost always my recommendation, as that can yield quite a few flights. In addition, you could look at hostels and house-swapping to bring down your accommodation costs. There were some helpful resources and comments in last week’s edition about booking a last-minute trip that might be of use, too.

Two other tips:

• My husband and I prioritized travel in those earlier, lower-income days by agreeing to one international trip and one to two domestic trips a year—by making it a sustainable line item in our budget, we were able to plan and make it happen without feeling overly stretched. It requires intention and time, but so does anything when you’re starting for the first time!

• Remember that you don’t have to go to the airport: Day trips, weekend trips, and road trips count as travel. Getting out of your comfort zone and experiencing a new-to-you part of the world is the point, and that can be close to home.

“How do you slow down if you’re a FOMO traveler? I’m able to slow down if it’s a city I’ve been to, but when I’m in a city for the first time, I want to see it all! And it drives my family crazy.” —Kristin G.

I understand the inclination, especially if it’s been a place on your bucket list for years and years. For me, though, I’ve learned that I savor my trips more if I take my time and really nail down what I would enjoy seeing versus what I feel like I have to see. For example, yes, I could’ve gone to the Eiffel Tower twice this year when I was in Paris, but I instead traded that time for vintage markets because I knew it would fill my cup more. Otherwise, it can often feel like I’m checking off boxes but not really immersing myself in the experience.

The second reminder is that these places will almost always exist if you want to return, so it’s worth sitting down with your family and ranking what’s most important on a first trip—and what can wait. FOMO doesn’t have to mean missing out forever.

Lastly, I slow down because I have to—chronic illness makes it difficult to do more than one to two major things a day. But in some ways, I find it a blessing that it forces me to take each minute as it comes and to not pack my days. The memories I smile at most when I return weren’t really about rushing to see all the sights, but about the small moments focused on what I really loved.

"How do you plan your itineraries?” —Navya L.

I don’t really have a set formula, beyond building in buffer time after arrival and before departing. It depends on a multitude of factors like availability, distance from our accommodations, and opening hours, but if I were to plan a new trip from scratch right now…

• I’d look at the dates I want to go or the destination(s) I’m interested in, and book when ready.

• Then I’d compile a small list of activities I want to do and where they would take place, before booking lodging. I want to make sure where I end up is close to all the experiences, if possible.

• I’d reserve my accommodations, checking for credit card cash-back offers or credits.

• I’d start planning out each day based on knowledge of my momentum and energy flows (see above about only coordinating one to two activities a day). I always leave a considerable amount of wiggle room for impromptu wandering, last-minute reservations, or delays/illness.

That’s pretty much it! I try not to overcomplicate it, and aim to be intentional.

“Thinking about joining a group travel trip for my first solo trip. Any brands you’d recommend?” —Jacob A.

Group trips are the perfect way to ease into solo travel thanks to the security of an established guide and itinerary. I wrote about my experience and what I’d do differently in this older post, and that would inform what I’d recommend to you now. Questions to ask yourself:

• What level of adventure or activity are you looking for? There are plenty of companies that lean toward the adventurous, whereas smaller, niche tour companies might center the trip around slower, less-demanding travel.

• What matters most to you? Cultural immersion like cooking classes, quick hits like walking tours of major landmarks, checking off as many countries as possible? Look for what makes you feel most engaged.

• Do you need a room by yourself, and would you be willing to pay a premium for it? Most group tours require you to share a room to keep costs low, but you can pay an additional fee for your own space. At first, I was too cheap to do this, but now, I would happily splurge on a space to call my own so I can decompress after a long day.

From there, you can nail down logistics like budget, availability, and geographic locations. Some trusted operators include Flash Pack, Intrepid, Contiki, G Adventures, National Geographic Expeditions, etc., but there are also hundreds of smaller operators who are worth looking into. Good luck!

“I’m going to NYC and will have just evenings free. What are two experiences I should prioritize?” —Katie E.

Without knowing your specific interests or trip dates, I can only advise you on what I think makes New York City magical. (I grew up in New Jersey and spent most of my 20s working across Manhattan, Brooklyn, and the Bronx.)

To me, the arts and theater are essential to the spirit of the city, and while I would always recommend a Broadway show, I would also encourage you to check out smaller acts or theaters. For example, I just saw Pre-Existing Condition at the Greenwich House Theater starring Phillipa Soo, who’s best known for her work in Hamilton. Off-Broadway or even off-off-Broadway can be as incredible as the bigger shows, more intimate, and just as deserving of support.

Second, I suggest spending your evenings watching either live jazz at a club like Smalls or the Village Vanguard, or stopping by a speakeasy like Please Don’t Tell (St. Mark’s Place), Little Branch (West Village), or Raines Law Room (Chelsea or Midtown). Book reservations in advance, and scope out the hidden entrances ahead of time, but remember that finding it is sometimes half the fun. ;)

But sometimes it’s best to simply jump on the subway and head somewhere you wouldn’t normally go—like Crown Heights—and just walk around and get lost in the boutiques, bars, and restaurants. (For example, Kissa Kissa is a Japanese-style jazz kissa and vinyl listening bar in CH, with over 5,000 vinyls and different listening night themes. When else would you stumble upon a place like that?!)

“What are your recs for long-haul flights? Any must-haves?” —Tallie S.

• Call me a millennial, but comfortable leggings with pockets are my go-to. I can contort my body however I need, without worrying about my passport or keys falling out. I only wear Beyond Yoga at this point. They are buttery soft, have a ton of stretch, and worth repeating: pockets.

• Compression socks are a must-have; I prefer Wellow or Bombas.

• I personally like to wear my Rothy’s clogs because they are extremely comfortable and adjust if your feet swell, but otherwise, a reliable pair of sneakers.

• An organic cotton tee (breathable yet soft), and a sweater or blanket as an additional layer.

• My Sony XM6 headphones, specifically for the noise-canceling feature. I went to Best Buy and tried on different headphones until I found ones I liked over my ears.

• Dramamine (IYKYK). Can’t fly without it.

• A good neck pillow (this one is my favorite). This + Dramamine + feeling warmly cocooned in my layers = decent sleep.

• An extra hair tie, my ILIA lip balm (I literally do not leave the house without it), mints/gum, a hair brush, Tylenol, power banks and chargers, etc. all go in my backpack.

• If you need an eye mask, this weighted sleep mask is A+.

I shared my full rundown of how I pack a carry-on bag and backpack for 10 days in this older post, but for long-haul flights, these are my non-negotiables.

“Should I move to Canada, or Boston, or East Coast—because I miss my friends and girlfriend?” —Sahira J.

This isn’t a travel question, per se, but one about the world, so I’m inclined to respond: Go where you are loved, enjoy the weather, and where you feel most alive.

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• 😍 I had the honor of trying DedCool’s latest scent, Mocha Magic, and as always, they’ve knocked it out of the park. It’s a comforting, warm, and sensual scent with notes of espresso, toffee, and tonka bean—an ideal fall-to-winter fragrance you can bring wherever you’re headed this season.

• 👏 The algorithm always feeds us what it thinks we want. But what if we designed a curriculum for ourselves? I encourage the same for travel—approaching with your curiosity. (h/t of The Well Guide)

• 🏠 Seven famous homes you can actually rent. Hit me up when I can stay at the Traitors castle, though! (CN Traveler)

• 🥹 Now why did this make me cry?? (h/t )

• 🔎 And finally:

See you next week! —Henah x

The other day, while perusing a tour operator’s website, I stumbled upon a premium-level experience for $1,500 for an 8-day trip across Morocco (flights excluded—the price covered private cars and transfers, experiences, and accommodations). The catch? It was coming up in just a few weeks.

A few days later, I noticed an uptick in women travelers posting in Facebook groups about last-minute getaways. Some had experienced layoffs and now wanted to spend a quick few days away. Others were in a period of burnout or loss, needing a break from the strain. I passed the link along where appropriate.

There are myriad reasons they—and you—might be searching for a trip in the coming weeks, but it’s not always easy to know which deals are worth it, how to even find them, and what your options are. So my hope today is to give you tactical tips on snagging a last-minute trip that you can keep handy for the next time you need a spontaneous getaway.

✈️ Flights & Points Deals

In 2025, my husband and I took advantage of a points deal in Miami to grieve after our pet passed away—I wouldn’t say it was a strong redemption, but it was what we needed in the moment. Earlier this year, I shared about gifting my mom points so she could see her sibling before they passed away. It wasn’t about optimizing the best use; I was more than happy to give them regardless of the “points to cash” value.

Depending on your situation, I recommend the same approach: Use points and miles as you need them, without worrying about the best deal. That said, there are a few ways you can maximize your options:

• For flights, utilize an app like PointsYeah Daydream Explorer or Seats.aero, filtering out for your airline programs/transfer partner, the dates you need, and non-stop options (if desired). Seats.aero lets you turn on alerts for flights in the next 60 days and is free, so if you have a longer timeline, this could be helpful.

• You could subscribe to points deals websites like Going, Thrifty Traveler, etc. to keep an eye out for last-minute opportunities. It’s never a guarantee, but it’s a possibility!

• Finally, you could check your preferred transfer partners or loyalty programs directly—for example, you may find a flight from NYC to Miami for 10,000 points roundtrip, or a night at a hotel for 7,500 points instead of the normal 20,000.

💵 Cash Deals

If you’d rather pay in cash, you can go to Skyscanner or Google Flights with your desired dates and departing airport and select “Anywhere” to see what’s available within your price range. Here’s an example:

You can also check your credit card for cash-back offers, like I’ve found on Chase. I’ve seen $150 off $600 hotel deals, and that 25% off can go a long way toward other expenses—like gas, if you’re driving to your destination.

And a few additional tips to find worthwhile cash deals:

• For spontaneous travel with a reputable tour operator, there are often last-minute deals to be found with Intrepid Travel, G Adventures, EF Tours, and Contiki. (If you have any others, please drop them in the comments!)

• I generally recommend booking direct when possible (and you should definitely compare the direct cost to be safe), but I’ve heard that Booking.com and Costco Travel have the best “getaway deals” options, though you could also check Priceline, Hotels.com, etc.

• You can also peek at deals with Hopper, which cover both hotels and airfare, to see if you’re getting the best bang for your buck.

• If you’re driving to your destination, Budget, Alamo, Avis, and SIXT all have dedicated pages for last-minute deals. Do your own due diligence with the specific locations you’ll be renting from, but it could help you save a pretty penny.

🚢 Cruises

If you’re close to a port, you can also find exceptional deals on cruises. Friends and family have used Vacations to Go with minimal issue, so that’s one option. (Their website does look like it was made in 1995, but don’t let that stop you.)

To reiterate, I recommend booking directly, and most cruise lines share their last-minute offers: Royal Caribbean, Celebrity, MSC, Norwegian Cruise Line, Princess. For example, I’m seeing a 7-day Caribbean Vacation cruise for $349 instead of the typical $1,600+. (And a hint: If you hover over the X button of your browser or keep the tab open for several moments, you’ll also probably get a discount offer like $100 off a booking.)

🏨 Miscellaneous

• Some travelers prefer to do home-swapping to keep costs as low as possible, and there are plenty of vetted platforms, like Kindred (I’m actually working on a larger post on this). The caveat is that your dates might have to match your swapper’s depending on the platform, so keep that in mind.

• If you’re part of Facebook groups like Award Travel 101, there are folks who regularly scope out last-minute deals and share them, like $300 for a 7-day European river cruise or a $200 flight from Washington, DC, to Paris.

• Hotels are incentivized to book every room every night, so you may find luck in just showing up and snagging a room at a low cost. (You could also try HotelTonight if you’re wary about the possibility of a sold-out hotel, but I haven’t tried this myself so I can’t vouch for it just yet.) If you have status or points, ask the front desk about a room upgrade or redemption on arrival—it can’t hurt.

  

👀 What to Watch Out For

There are, crucially, several caveats to consider before booking a last-minute trip:

• Most travel insurance policies require coverage to be purchased within 14–21 days of your initial deposit, so if you’re booking and leaving within a week, it’s unlikely you’ll be covered by travel insurance. Not a dealbreaker, of course, but something to watch out for.

• The Schwab ATM card is my favorite for grabbing cash around the world (no transaction or currency conversion fees), but it does take an excruciatingly long four business days for funds to transfer into your account. Make sure you have a plan for cash if you need it, though luckily most places accept tap-to-pay nowadays.

• Similarly, your bank might be alerted if you make a sizable international purchase and leave at the last minute, so give them a heads up if you can. The worst scenario is not having any working cards once you’re abroad.

• Double and triple check your passport expiration (and that you have six months of validity) if you’re heading out of the country, and see if there are any visa or entry requirements for international travel. Some countries allow you to apply for a visa upon arrival, but others require a long lead time that might mess with your plans. If you’re in serious doubt, I suggest staying domestic.

• Finally, last-minute deals mean grab-and-go packing. My trusted packing list might be of use here! (It’s usually paywalled for paid subscribers, but I’ve made it available for all subscribers.)

Getting away with minimal planning or notice can seem more complicated, but it’s certainly doable—use this as a resource for future last-minute trips, and enjoy that time spent elsewhere. 💌

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• 🥹 It was such a joy to join on The Finance Girlies podcast to talk about my journey with money as I hit Coast FI, slow travel, and how to decipher the world of points and miles without losing the plot. Give it a listen!

• 🥰 A cozy shawl that acts as a second layer is one of my favorite travel hacks, especially since thermoregulation is huge for me. Chappywrap, the beloved blanket brand, brought back its shawls, and I have been living in mine. Super soft, and thin enough to pack. A dream.

• 🌙 The moon’s full lunar cycle in one frame. Makes you wonder how much we, too, change every 28 days. (h/t )

• 👏 A 82-year-old solo traveler shares her story, laden with curiosity and lightness. What’s the next interesting thing you should say “yes” to? (h/t )

• ❤️‍🩹 How to afford traveling for medical care. (Moneywise)

See you next week. —Henah x

“Athens, Santorini, and…? Mykonos? Crete?”

My husband and I were deciding where we’d stop last on our trip to Greece back in 2018. I’d always dreamed of visiting Santorini, and he desperately wanted to explore the history of Athens, so those two stops were no-brainers. We had enough time to add one more island to our itinerary, and we were split: Mykonos leaned too into the party scene that we weren’t looking for, and Crete felt too large to explore in just a few days.

I texted a friend who’d been the year before, and she encouraged us to visit Naxos. I’d never heard of Naxos, but quickly learned it was ideal for a few days, had excellent food (my friend raved about the potatoes, specifically), and was more laidback than neighboring Mykonos.

In the end, Naxos was far more memorable than we’d hoped, becoming a recommendation I passed on to others. (Santorini, longtime readers may recall, ended up being a disaster, thanks to a Mediterranean hurricane.) The potatoes were, in fact, delicious; we rented a car and drove around the island, including a stop at an olive oil museum; it was casual yet still dotted by beautiful beaches and whitewashed villas.

Nearly nine years later, Naxos ranks highly on most travelers’ lists, with press from Condé Nast Traveler and World Tourism Market. I take very little credit on being ahead of the curve; that’s all thanks to my dear friend. But it reminded me of all the times I decided to try somewhere new in addition to the destinations I’d dreamed of, like when we paired Bora Bora with Moorea, on the advice of another friend, and Moorea ended up being the island I still think about daily.

How can we better balance the tourist hot spots with places that are more “up and coming”? Where do we even find these places that might want visitors but aren’t yet on our radars? And how do we visit them responsibly, without contributing to over-tourism if we can avoid it? I went to the experts to find out.

Several weeks ago, I teased I was in New York City for a very special reason, and now I can finally share: It was to preview Intrepid Travel’s “2027 Not Hot List,” its annual list of “10 lesser-known destinations that are ready for—and deserving of—more visitors, where tourism can create meaningful change for local communities,” culled down from a shortlist of 20 or so destinations.

The full list ranges from Alonnisos, Greece (a quieter corner of the Aegean compared to Naxos nowadays) to the Pekoe Trail in Sri Lanka to the Northern Highlands of Jordan, expanding beyond Petra and the Wadi Rum.

While I was curious about the ten destinations Intrepid chose, I was actually more interested in understanding the team’s methodology: How do you narrow down all the places in the world to one list—and crucially—how do you do it in a way that’s responsibly supporting local economies and cultures, and won’t inadvertently lead to over-tourism elsewhere?

According to Mikey Sadowski, the VP of Global Communications at Intrepid, there are three key criteria his team looks for: Less-visited, tourism readiness, and “new in 2027,” with the process beginning years in advance—they’re already plotting for 2028. Their focus, according to Mikey, is to “help redistribute the demand towards destinations that are being overlooked, but that have the capacity and the desire to welcome more visitors.” This means local people having agency over the destination, having enough infrastructure to benefit from increased visitation rather than overwhelmed by it, and focusing on alternatives to redistribute that demand versus just offering alternatives.

The example he gave was fitting, as it mimicked my own honeymoon experience to Kenya: “The Samburu National Reserve [at the top of the Not Hot List] is one of our destinations, but even the trip that Intrepid has going there, it still goes to the Maasai Mara for a night—except it spends two or three nights in Samburu. Our normal safaris are four nights in Maasai Mara. We’re understanding and acknowledging the commercial realities, consumer demands, and travel demand—we’re not saying, ‘OK, no one wants to go to the Maasai Mara anymore.’ It’s that, instead of contributing to a mass influx of people for an extended stay, we can at least get people to see Samburu, too, and that oftentimes becomes the most memorable part of their trip.”

So it isn’t about avoiding the Parises and Tokyos of the world entirely—their recommendation is to maybe add another under-the-radar place along the way, to “redistribute” the weight of tourism more evenly. Annie Combs, founder and CEO of ECPC Travel and a regenerative tourism expert, echos that this dispersion of traffic is worthwhile and is just one of several methods you can explore. She also recommends personally researching providers in the area to understand the direct local benefits, opting for a slightly different route (she gave “Secret Tours of Prague” as an example, a historical walking tour operator who goes for a more local approach), and visiting a place in the off-season or slow season.

Neil Brinckerhoff, Director of Marketing and Sustainability at CAS Trips and a former interviewee of Departure, shared that he stands by Intrepid’s approach, “Intrepid is an industry leader in making a statement about how travel can do good, but they still need to sell trips to make that impact. This campaign also helps build the infrastructure for more operators to work in these destinations, laying the groundwork for them to flourish. So as an individual tourist, I would feel good traveling to one of these destinations with Intrepid—or likely there alone as well, knowing tour operators are confident in the existing tourist infrastructure.”

But how do you know who’s truly ready? When a tourism board’s primary motivator is to entice you to visit, the motives can be at odds with what’s appropriate for a destination’s infrastructure or economy.

In addition to looking at the tourism data to identify opportunities, Sadowski says tourism boards play a role in the process, but they’re more of a “consulting advisory stakeholder,” rather than the local voices they lean on. Annie agreed, saying the motivations might not be 100 percent authentic to the experience.

Intrepid, Mikey says, has thousands of team members across 100 countries in six continents and over 85% of our supply chain is locally owned, with constant conversations happening on the ground. He adds, “That local expertise determines whether a destination is ready, relevant, and aligned with the spirit of the Not Hot List. A destination cannot be truly ready without local support for tourism […] that tourism needs to create benefits for host communities, and the perspectives of the people who call these places ‘home’ becomes fundamental to the process.”

For example, Siwa Oasis in Egypt began floating around earlier this year, clearly checking two of the three boxes of criteria, but it became clear that the ecosystem around tourism was still a bit too fragile for the local culture. The Intrepid team dove into articles interpreted from Arabic that suggested growth might be outpacing the infrastructure, and that hesitancy meant it might not be time just yet to include in a Not Hot list. That’s not to say it wouldn’t be worth visiting, of course, or that other tour operators may not include them—but Intrepid’s commitment to thoroughly vetting and responsibly suggesting a destination really stood out to me.

Because adding any destination to an “up and coming” list also means inherently risking over-exposing a place or ultimately having a less-than-stellar experience. Kyrgyzstan, for example, was featured on a previous Not Hot List, and went on to be part of the New York Times 52 Places to Go and Intrepid bookings increased 60%. But Annie pointed out that most of the content out there made the country look “super developed and touristy,” so there’s sometimes a mismatch of expectations as visitors arrive.

She adds, “A lot of these businesses are getting horrible reviews, and it’s not their fault that the roads might still have potholes or that the solar-powered lodge doesn’t have enough hot water […] you have to remember, if you’re visiting an emerging destination, it means that the destination hasn’t had decades of experience with massive hordes of tourists. So I always say ‘pack your patience’ if you’re going somewhere new.”

In most cases where I went off the beaten path (while pairing with an existing hot spot), I found this to be true with the neighboring area, or that the infrastructure was struggling a bit against tourist demands. As Annie said to me, “You weren’t supposed to know. That’s the point. You see the pretty hotel and you click ‘book’ and that’s the end of it.” In order to align those expectations a bit better, following Annie’s advice, it’s probably best to check recent unfiltered reviews, looking at trips taken within the last year, and asking operators directly about infrastructure. And to be clear, the responsibility isn’t only on travelers to ask the right questions—operators and media (myself included!) covering these destinations play a role in setting realistic expectations, too.

On the other end of the spectrum are places that might have been listed as “up and coming” a decade ago, but are dealing with droves of tourists now—Neil points to UNESCO heritage sites, which were literally named to protect them: “Unfortunately, there are plenty of examples of sites fighting to be removed from the list, because of the impacts the attention has brought to them.” This is where Annie’s advice around traveling in off-seasons is critical, particularly if a destination is at the top of your list but at risk of over-tourism.

So, how do we identify destinations striking the balance? I recommend following local guides (many of them do have social media) versus travel influencers, asking your most well-traveled friends which places they loved outside of the major hot spots, or looking to companies like Intrepid or smaller regional boards that are running these methodologies as ethically as possible.

Additionally, as individual travelers, Annie suggests asking these kinds of inquiries to the future places and spaces you want to book:

• How is this area or operator estimating resource strain (ensuring they have the proper infrastructure for waste or water, for example)?

• Asking a hotel concierge about the local establishments they recommend to support the local economy (i.e., mom-and-pop restaurants, small businesses and boutiques)

• Going beyond sustainability labels and keeping your eyes peeled for actual numbers and data around their footprint: “It’s very hard to fudge a number and not get caught.”

In the simplest terms, when someone wants to know what to ask for, Annie says, “Pick your favorite question and ask it.” For example, if you’re obsessed with solar panels, you can Google “hotels with solar panels in Albania” and you’re guaranteed to find one. She sums it up by saying, “If you have a question, people like it when you call and ask them, because it means you’re interested in their business and what they do. So don’t be afraid to reach out.”

Just as I believe there are definitely wrong ways to travel, I think there are plenty of right ways to explore the world, too: Looking beyond trends, being open to experiences you might not have expected (like adding said-stop near a major city), and asking the nuanced questions. Visiting an under-the-radar destination may be both a gamble and a payoff, but if approached thoughtfully, I think it will be worth it for both you and the communities you’re visiting.

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• 🏰 Speaking of less-obvious destinations, shared five European cities to visit beyond the usual suspects (that are largely tourism-ready). If you’re planning any European excursion this fall, consider this list.

• 📸 If you want the slow travel feel of a film camera, without dealing with actual film, this screen-free camera is a delight. Vintage-inspired, vibey, and a great value, especially as a gift. (HENAH7 gets you 7% off.)

• 👻 To get you into the spooky spirit, Riley Sager’s latest release, The Unknown, is a classic thriller with plenty of twists and turns. I imagined one of the main characters as Meryl Streep and couldn’t unsee it. Here’s the two sentence plot: “In 1926, five women disappeared from a remote island in Vermont. Now, one hundred years later, it’s happening again.”

• 📚 A fun quiz to test your knowledge about locations all around New York City and how they’ve inspired writers over the years. (NYT)

• 🛫 And finally:

See you next week (with an exciting re-share coming this weekend!) —Henah x

At the start of this year, I decided to plan a 10-day solo trip across Europe. I wanted a challenge, sure, but I also wanted to give myself the gift of presence and time—unburdened by work or home responsibilities—after a very tough 2025. Booked six months in advance, I didn’t think much about the weeks leading up to my departure.

By late spring, I found myself feeling worn out and spread too thin: I was working full-time, writing this newsletter weekly, freelancing a podcast as an executive producer, volunteering with two agencies, and all the while, trying to be a good partner, pet parent, family member, and friend. I was becoming easily agitated, experiencing brain fog and overwhelm, and not sleeping quite as well. It was textbook burnout, and I eagerly began counting down the days until my PTO.

That 10-day trip quickly shifted from a sense of adventure to one of recovery. I spent much of my downtime in Italy and France journaling, reading, and napping for hours at a time. Slowly, I noticed my knots loosening and my mind unwinding. I wouldn’t say that I returned home recovered from burnout, but I did have enough energy to go back to my daily life for the foreseeable future.

When I shared about my experience, I heard from so many other women in my life that they’re experiencing high levels of burnout, too, particularly working parents and women in the C-suite, ages 30s to 50s. (Many of the reports I saw from this year stated between 40–60% of women feel this way, and an AXA report said, “Women’s mental health remains worse than men’s across every metric.”) This doesn’t even touch upon social media fatigue and screen-time, the state of the world, or other major life transitions women experience, like divorce, shifting to empty nesters, or joining the sandwich generation.

If research shows most women are burned out in one way or another, what can travel offer as a way to recover? I’ve openly addressed before the short-term respite travel allows me, but with a proliferation of “burnout and recovery” retreats and digital detoxes, I’m curious if these programs really help—and crucially—if they can offer sustainable solutions for when we arrive home. When I invited sources to reach out, I heard from over two dozen professionals: some who host retreats of their own, others who represent these agencies, and women who’ve been on them.

To zoom out, burnout, recovery, and detox retreats are often multi-day experiences away from home. They typically run from one weekend to several weeks, depending on the programming, and most focus on stillness and presence. You’ll often see that these retreats coordinate schedules around meditation, breath work, yoga or gentle movement, phone-free community building, etc. The hope is to bring you back to yourself, with the ideal goal equipping you with what you need to face burnout (and the stressors that lead up to it) head on.

Recovery retreats are expensive and timely investments, so what, frankly, makes one worth your effort and money? After hearing from 30+ women, I found several consistent themes and takeaways to consider if you ever want to explore one of your own. Particularly at a time when chronic stress and fatigue are rising, I hope these tips help make the most of your time away and empower you to sustainably move forward when you return.

1. There’s no “magic number” of days you need…but there’s a general range.

Many women who are burned out don’t have the capacity for a full sabbatical or weeks off, myself included. So I asked: What’s the “right” amount of time someone needs to reset their nervous system?

I would have expected that three weeks would always be more impactful than three days, but across nearly every single source I heard from, they all echoed the same refrain: There is no fixed timeline. Even a weekend away can create a worthwhile interruption in routine, enough to pause and reset.

That said, most experts recommended three to seven days as the “sweet spot”—three days as the absolute floor for those who can’t take more than a few days away from work and responsibilities. They all spoke to a similar pattern of unwinding by day two or three; I heard many iterations of “the release happens” or “something clicks” at this point.

Dr. Annamaria Acquaviva, Scientific Director at Palazzo di Varignana, put it this way: “A guest may arrive breathing shallowly, with tense shoulders, a racing heart and thoughts that continue to crowd in even at bedtime. Within the first few days, breathing may become more regular, physical tension may ease, falling asleep may become easier and waking may feel more restorative. These are early signs of recovery. Allostatic load, the cumulative wear produced by repeated stress, requires continuity over time. Three nights allow guests to interrupt daily automatic patterns, observe their responses, and learn their first strategies. Seven nights provide more time to personalize, repeat, and consolidate the practices, making them easier to transfer into everyday life.”

In the short-term, I find this can be key to moving forward—that needed pivot from survival to stillness. But can a week away really transform what’s burning you out at home? How do you avoid ending up back in the same place, a year from now?

2. A retreat without purposeful integration into your life will fail.

Knowing that writing is a healthy habit and having the space to do so over a week is the easy part. But going home and making space to actually practice the behavior shift is harder—and arguably more important. The habit I built around journaling each day in Europe swiftly moved to the back-burner as soon as I returned to the States.

So what does that integration really look like, when major re-hauls aren’t a realistic option? There are two main takeaways I heard about—microsteps and community—that felt integral to the “reentry” process back to our daily lives. Because, and we all know this, saying “I’m going to incorporate self-care when I get home” doesn’t usually work.

Dr. Acquaviva points out that lasting change is about more than willpower, since our habits are linked to contextual clues that trigger behaviors automatically: “The same desk may prompt someone to check email continuously; a phone on the bedside table may reactivate evening scrolling.”

So the key, then, is to identify microsteps that will fit into our lives upon returning home: “small, specific actions linked to a precise point in the day,” ideally reflecting those triggers. Dr. Acquaviva suggests: two minutes of box breathing (four equal phases of inhaling, holding, exhaling, and holding) before checking morning emails, a ten-minute walk after lunch away from your desk, or leaving your phone outside the bedroom at a set time. Put another way, PhD and ICF-certified coach Carol Grojean says it’s about changing one thing on your calendar in the first two days back, usually something subtractive rather than additive. Remove the trigger that adds friction to your life.

Second, to make those microsteps “stick” better, many of the experts I spoke with emphasized the importance of community after a retreat. Amber Alexander Solano, who’s founded and led several retreats, pointed me to landmark research from UCLA that being surrounded by a community of supportive women isn’t just emotionally supportive, it’s biologically restorative: “Positive social connections with other women have been shown to drive the release of the stress-reducing hormone oxytocin, which in turn decreases sympathetic nervous system reactivity, lowers blood pressure, reduces pain sensitivity, and dampens cortisol output.”

While we all know how important female friendships are, I admired the emphasis on that community specifically after a retreat. Many facilitators spoke about monthly virtual calls post-retreat with former guests to reflect and ask questions, or small-group integration calls to help those habits continue.

A friend of mine, Laura P., who’s done several retreats over the last few years, mentioned this as well: “The retreats I did had optional post-retreat check-in calls to see how we were doing, what we were integrating, and reminding us of what we felt and what we learned in the retreats. Those definitely helped to tap back into the feelings of being on the retreat and re-ground the participants even while we were back in our routines. They also had WhatsApp groups for all the participants and many of us have stayed in touch since, which has helped immensely […] With these retreats, you find a community of people who are going through similar situations or have in the past, and they can become a wider support network. For the creative retreat I went on, because it was all artists of different backgrounds, mediums, and disciplines, people have been more open with sharing their work, and it's been a well of inspiration that I can continuously draw on even when I feel creatively burnt out.”

Jessica Keniston, who has 15+ years of experience across women’s health and wellness, said something that actually made me laugh and that succinctly summed up what you should look for:

“I have been to many sessions and retreats where ‘integration’ was just a word batted around. 3–7 days somewhere amazing doing the deep dive into self, and when it’s time to go home, ‘Thanks and don’t forget to book the next one.’ No plan, no follow up, no tools to help you move forward as a different version of yourself. Look for facilitators who provide time to plan your re-entry, who include integration calls or sessions and send you home with a tool kit. Without this, you got the same benefit as an all-inclusive holiday.”

3. The main throughline around a retreat’s location was proximity to nature.

The days I spent in Italy were in the Tuscan countryside—lots of rich browns and olive greens, wild horses and birds, hours without seeing other humans. It felt restorative and peaceful in a way that’s hard to find at home.

Many of the retreats I’ve read about often take place in tropical destinations, leaning into the jungle and waves on the beach. Laura Hamm of Unplugged Travels, for example, hosts her digital detox retreats in Costa Rica: “There’s something about the soft yet vibrant jungles of Costa Rica that immediately feels immersive, welcoming, and alive. The forests and rivers seem to reconnect us with something more ancient and instinctive in ourselves, something that’s still there, no matter how disconnected from it we’ve become.”

I wondered if one environment might be more impactful than another, but across the board, it came down to locations that value stillness and nature rather than a specific kind of place. And, as Kristin Graham, a facilitator and podcast host focused on brain science, gently reminded me: One person’s restoration can be another person’s agitation. For me, being around large bodies of water for too long gives me anxiety, whereas neutral colors and gentle wildlife feel like home. It’s more about your specific needs, than the landscape itself.

Interestingly, Dr. Grojean also spoke to the importance of the horizon, which felt worth mentioning: “Environments with long views seem to interrupt the near vision which the smartphone has trained our eyes to expect, and this has a remarkable effect on how we process information—similar to a change in arousal. Mountains are especially effective for this purpose, which is why the view from my cabin in Montana is my favorite part of the retreat. The Pacific ocean may be even better, but any enclosed valley is substantially better than nothing.”

Experts acknowledged that our surroundings directly influence our state of mind, so it’s about exposure to nature that takes you away from your everyday environment, lowers stress, and improves your sensory experience—whatever that means for you. That could be a place with less noise, no commute, or more daylight. This also means, and this is worth saying explicitly, that the same retreat held in two different places can also often have completely different experiences, and that shift in energy matters.

4. Recovery from burnout is different for everyone, but there seems to be a general pattern.

Burnout is most prevalent in high-performing professionals who’ve been operating the same way for years: overachieving, people-pleasing, perfectionism, and taking care of everyone around them. (She says, as she checks all four boxes for herself.) So, yes, the sustainable changes you make will shift the patterns that drive burnout in the first place.

But what shifts first when you slow down? Between brain fog, irritability, a lack of quality sleep, and so on, what “release” happens first? There’s the exhale we spoke about around the day two and three mark. That moment of breathing again, and maybe even awareness and recognition of how tired you’ve been or how much you’ve been carrying.

Some experts also said that crying is a natural reaction after moving away from survival mode and getting permission to feel what it’s been suppressing. Dr. Grojean expounds, “When people have been depleted for a while before the retreat, their grief response is going to be stronger than their joy response [...] and so they begin to cry more easily on day three—over birds, smells, the kindness of strangers—as their range of emotional response returns to normal from below the usual baseline.”

She also shares that sleep and irritability are the other things that return first, and that “irritability follows sleep by about 24 hours.” What takes a bit longer is the motivation, cognitive clarity (or generally executive functioning), and trust in ourselves and letting go of guilt for needing the break. Laura P. also touched upon this: “[W]hat I'm still recovering from now and learning to hear is my sense of self—and this seems to be the longest to recover (for me, anyway). Call it internal voice, intuition, source, etc. In my burnout, that voice was squashed to the ground, buried under apathy and nihilism and ‘it's just what I have to do’ expectations. I'm still trying to heal enough to find a happy medium and trust that I can figure out what I want to do with my life.”

I also found this to be true on my trip—though Kristin pointed out that these symptoms can also be indicative of perimenopause or menopause, so it’s worth digging into. Amber echoed this as well: “My clients are typically over 40, and since burnout and perimenopause often have the same markers, what is showing up as burnout may actually be a hormonally-driven symptom.” If you’re not sure if this may apply to you, she recommends a symptom journal that you can share with your doctor.

5. You don’t need to leave your phone behind, but…you might want to.

Our addictions to phones isn’t a secret. We’re fed constant news and ads, trained to endlessly scroll, and made to feel always available and on; that’s a lot of added noise for our already overworked and overtired brains, especially for women who are often needed by others.

The second you might leave your phone behind while you walk out onto a beach or for a walk, your thoughts may still be circling back to the emails you need to send, or the errand list you need to update—the natural pauses that once existed in our day have vanished.

Laura at Unplugged Travels specifically curates tours around digital detoxes, anticipating all of the usual pushback of why we might need our phones on us: “What if something happens? What if someone back home needs me?” Her team builds that support into the experience: “Guests have daily check-ins and on-call emergency support via a ‘dumb’ phone, while there is also always a third party who can receive urgent communications from home and reach them if necessary.”

And yes, giving your phone away or leaving it locked up can be uncomfortable—but it can also build the muscle to return home without defaulting right back to the screen, similar to those aforementioned microsteps: “Before leaving, guests are encouraged to set specific intentions for what they want their relationship with technology to look like at home, whether that’s using a screen-time tool, experimenting with a dumb phone, keeping phones out of the bedroom, or protecting regular periods of completely screen-free time.” Something Laura said in our call was that it’s not really about unplugging forever—it’s about reclaiming the choice to.

If you do want to keep your phone on you, experts recommended a compromise: Leave your phone in your room so you can be fully present as much as possible; have a designated phone number for emergencies so you don’t need to feel “reachable,” and have one person (ideally hired by the retreat, not an attendee) be responsible for capturing footage throughout the experience. Instead of using the phone as a proxy for the real witnessing, as Dr. Grojean puts it, you can enjoy the time directly. (Might I also suggest a film camera as an alternative way to capture memories?)

I was curious if it was actually possible to integrate less screen-time into our lives upon returning, so I asked my friend Rachael who’s been on several retreats: “Retreats really helped me understand the value of me-time and also the toxicity of constant screens. They helped me recognize the power of simple routines like not looking at a phone until I had breakfast or walked outside for the day, also creating good habits like a daily journal or charging phones in another room instead of using one as my alarm clock. These were all changes to my routine that I was able to bring home with me and keep as part of my daily routine to ground myself when the noise came back in […] Anxiety had destroyed my sleep pattern, and being able to log out of all the accounts I managed, the Slack I was part of for work, and in some cases, my personal accounts, really helped quiet the noise and voices that kept me up at night.”

6. Stillness is a luxury. But you don’t need an expensive retreat to access it.

The last question I asked every expert: Is slow travel going to continue to be a trend, in a world of burnout? Most responses emphasized that slow travel feels more like a correction than a trend—a way to pare back against decades of maximalist itineraries and visiting 10 cities in two weeks.

In some ways, this feels obvious. Kristin mentions, “There’s growing interest in sleepcations, wellness travel, digital detoxes, and slower itineraries that embrace stillness, quiet, sleep, the delicious lazy feeling of waking up without an alarm, time with no agenda, a day that unfolds as it should, or a restaurant that fills your mind as much as your belly.” (You could say I was ahead of the curve!)

In fact, the wellness tourism market is projected to be worth over $1T (that’s trillion), and retreat hosts said they’re seeing Gen Z and younger millennials seek these experiences out earlier than their Gen X counterparts, more acutely aware of burnout. Kristin adds, “One generation is trying not to inherit the burnout model; the other is trying to unlearn it.”

But if you can’t get away—which is an honest conversation we need to have, about privilege, luxury, and the wealth gap around travel—how can you still reap the benefits of a recovery or reset retreat?

It comes down to those microsteps and grounding exercises, or, as Dr. Acquaviva aptly put it, savoring: “Savoring, the ability to notice and consciously prolong a positive moment, can transform a simple gesture [...] into a more vivid and meaningful memory.”

So even if a getaway to decompress isn’t on your horizon any time soon, hopefully you can still find a way to pause and breathe daily—in the moments you walk from your car to your front door, a ten-minute walk without your phone, or noticing an emotion before reacting to it. Stillness is, ultimately, free.

I want to close today with this story Laura P. shared with me, one that marries the beauty of travel, feeling grounded, and recovery all together: “My retreat group did a meditation underneath one of the big arches in Arches National Park, and our leader talked about how the rock formations in Moab took millions of years to form, giant pieces carved by the environment and falling away, leaving something beautiful and powerful in its place. And then, we'd look over the vast cliffs and valleys of Canyonlands [National Park], and understand just for a moment, that our problems are not as big or as vast as we make them to be. In the Catskills, being in the woods was the perfect backdrop for all of us artists suffering from creative burnout; we were invited to be still and hear nature's music being created, see the landscape change with the weather, or observe the animals strolling through the woods and understand that we're among them and of them. The lessons are always that if we can look at how we are nature, we can look at ourselves differently, and every environment can teach us something.”

And isn’t that the primary goal of slow travel, after all?

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• 💰 If you’re planning to book flights over the holidays but are antsy about the price, it’s a good time to remind you about Sky Key. Sky Key auto-monitors your flights for you and if the price drops, they’ll rebook you and refund you the difference after a 25% cut of savings. For full transparency, Sky Key was an earlier sponsor but this mention isn’t sponsored; they simply saved me $100 on an upcoming trip last week (so a net savings of $75) and it reminded me that you don’t have to wait for the best price anymore. You can just book early to make sure you have a seat on your preferred flight and let the price savings roll in.

• 📲 Fun fact: I haven’t carried a wallet in years, because I only use a variation of this phone case—it makes traveling a whole lot easier, too. Enough room for your ID and favorite credit card.

• 😭 For your next long drive: The third act of this This American Life episode made me tear up on our recent trip home from Florida. Please do yourself a favor and listen.

• 🇹🇼 R.F. Kuang, author of Yellowface and new release Taipei Story, shared her favorite places in Taipei. Coincidentally, several of them were on my own list, so I trust her judgement, especially if you’re also a vegetarian. The Five Favorite Places series is always a fun read. (New York Times)

• 🌍 Lonely Planet’s hiring a remote Senior Social Media Manager, with up to $120,000 in compensation and flexible PTO.

If you enjoyed this week’s deep dive, I’d love if you could give this post a “heart.” It goes a long way for the platform’s algorithm, and helps me grow. 💕 See you next week! —Henah x

Happy September! I’m coming back today from a quick visit to New York City for a very cool opportunity—I can’t wait to share more. Tomorrow, I hit the road in the evening again, heading to Florida; the slate of fall travel is already in full swing.

This season, my husband and I are prioritizing domestic destinations, a far cry from the first half of the year. We’ll be stopping in Charlotte, Seattle, Washington DC, New York, New Jersey, and then back home again to New Jersey for the holidays. (I’d love to hear what upcoming travel you have!)

If you’re itching to get away, you might love our latest guest guide today from . Maranda has been such a loyal reader, and when she reached out about a guest guide, it was clear this was a place she loves dearly. Keep this one in your back pocket—and enjoy. 💌

(PS: If you’re interested in doing a guest guide, please DM me! Guest authors are compensated for their time, and I’m always looking to hear from the community about the places they adore most.)

Having gained independence from both Britain and Malaysia in the 1960s, Singapore is a young, bustling city-state full of diverse Asian culture with European influence, and known for strict laws, cleanliness, and class. Often overlooked by Americans (unless you love the book and movie Crazy Rich Asians), Singapore is a magical island in Southeast Asia that every traveler needs to visit—and not just for a stopover on the way to other Asian destinations.

I studied abroad in Singapore while in college, and absolutely fell in love. Although I spent a few months living there, I felt like I barely scratched the surface of what the city/country has to offer. I am delighted to share this beginner’s guide to the Lion City.

Getting There

Budget-wise, Singapore can be a big splurge or budget-friendly, depending on how you do it. You can stay in five-star hotels, shop in the luxury malls, indulge in fine dining, and get around by car service.

However, you can also stay in reliable accommodations for $100–$150 per night, use inexpensive public transit, and eat like locals for $5–$7 per meal. Round-trip flights to Singapore from the other side of the world may run $1,000+ (great time to redeem points/miles!), but flying between Singapore and other parts of southeast Asia is surprisingly affordable.

The Singapore airport itself is a tourist destination. It was built for cleanliness and luxury to attract crucial trade and tourism, and to combat a low supply of labor through efficiency and automation. Plan some extra time, either upon arrival or departure, to visit Changi’s gardens and world’s largest indoor waterfall.

I flew to Singapore from the US via San Francisco on United Airlines (17.5 hours in an economy middle seat!). You can also fly direct from LAX, SEA, and New York’s EWR or JFK. JFK–SIN is currently the world’s longest commercial flight at a whopping 19 hours (brutal, but how cool would it be to say you’ve done this). Unless you’re already in Southeast Asia, this flight time is no joke, so consider splurging on premium economy or business class for comfort if you have some extra points.

Where to Stay

Singapore boasts some of the best luxury hotels in the world (), if that’s for you: Marina Bay Sands (the iconic three towers with the boat-looking top) includes a spectacular rooftop infinity pool. If classic colonial architecture is more your style, check out the iconic Raffles. Another notable option is the Shangri-La in the Orchard neighborhood, known for luxury shopping. (All of these are also part of the American Express Fine Hotel + Resorts program.)

For more affordable options, you can find budget hotels in many neighborhoods ($–$$), including Little India and Chinatown, and even Clarke Quay near the bay. I stayed in student housing in the Novena neighborhood and it was quiet and comfortable.

Short-term rental companies like Airbnb are highly regulated in Singapore, so listings are risky and subject to cancellation. Stick to hotels for peace of mind.

Where to Eat & Drink

The epitome of Singapore food culture is the hawker center ($): You’ll find these open-air food stall centers on every corner, and some Michelin-starred meals are even tucked away inside these dive-looking food courts. My favorite was the Newton Food Center (featured in the Crazy Rich Asians movie) for the nice vibes. The best part is the majority of these meals cost less than $5. Be sure to try Chicken Rice, Duck Rice, and anything with noodles.

Since the climate is quite humid, indoor malls are also a mainstay, including hawker-like food courts that are not to be passed over ($). Pepper Lunch is a must.

Breakfast is not a meal to skip here:

• Stop by Toast Box and enjoy kaya toast with eggs. ($)

• The best pancakes of my life were the fluffy ones from Belle-Ville. ($$)

• At any coffee stand, order “Kopi O” for black coffee with sugar, and “Kopi C” to add evaporated milk. And don’t forget the bubble milk tea. ($)

Generally, most places are vegetarian friendly, although there won’t be as many options at the smaller food courts. Most places accept credit cards, but carry some cash on you for the food stalls as well. And, be aware that it’s hard to find napkins at many of the traditional hawker centers as they have hand-washing stations instead (and many people eat with their hands). There may be some people walking around selling tissues/napkins, but I’d recommend carrying some of your own.

What to Do

Nature:

Gardens by the Bay: If you do only one thing in Singapore, this should be it. Cover as much as you can from this page. Here’s what I loved:

• MacRitchie Treetop Walk: Great half-day hike; moderate difficulty.

• Palau Ubin: Take a boat over to this island and spend a day biking around and eating seafood.

• Singapore Botanic Gardens: Visit at night for a cooler, less-crowded experience.

• Henderson Waves Bridge: Ideal for a shorter visit at sunset.

Sightseeing:

• Clarke Quay river walk: Worthwhile restaurants and bars.

• Marina Bay boat tour: Convenient, take this from Clarke Quay.

• Merlion Park: See the iconic mascot of Singapore.

• Sentosa Island: Make this a day trip or even stay at a resort for a couple nights!

  • Take the monorail there for easy transportation

  • Hang out on the beach and visit the Southernmost point of Continental Asia

  • You can even visit Universal Studios here if you like theme parks!

Culture:

• Head to Bussorah Street for vibrant Muslim culture. Walk slowly and visit the shops and cafes.

• Museums:

  • City Gallery. I learned so much about the nation’s geography and history here.

  • ArtScience Museum. Well-worth a stop while you visit Marina Bay Sands.

  • National Museum. Learn more about history, culture, and architecture.

• Take a cooking class or do a food tour. I learned to make Popiah (thin pancakes filled with vegetables and meat) at this fantastic generational shop.

• Nightlife:

  • Ce La Vi: On top of Marina Bay Sands, no better view.

  • Marquee: Includes an indoor ferris wheel and slide.

Final Tips

• The city is super safe and clean, due to the strict laws. I wouldn’t have any concerns for a solo woman traveler in Singapore, as long as you stick to well-populated areas if you’re out at night. Visit Singapore has a great guide for solo travelers with itinerary suggestions.

• The MRT (subway) system is the best way to get around, or you can hail a Grab rideshare.

• Don’t chew gum in public (gum sales are banned here).

• If you dare to try the infamous durian fruit, don’t bring it on the MRT with you, due to the pungent smell (seriously, it’s illegal).

• The city is quite technologically advanced, so most establishments accept all major credit card issuers. I actually first used tap-to-pay all over Singapore before it was widely accepted in the US. I would carry ~$100 (~SGD 130) in cash for smaller merchants and local vendors.

• Singaporeans are generally quiet and reserved, so be cautious of your volume when speaking in public.

• Bring a big hat, sunglasses, and sunscreen and be prepared to sweat, but bring layers for when you’re indoors, as the AirCon is strong.

Out of the 35 countries I’ve been to, Singapore remains my favorite and I hope this guide gives you a slight sense of why. I would plan to visit for 1–2 weeks, but you can still have a nice time on a shorter stopover (and will always leave wanting more). Please enjoy and share with others, and reach out to me on Instagram at @marandapeak11 if you have any questions.

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• 🥇 Thanks to our paid subscribers who entered to win a custom trip plan with Odyssey Ventures in last week’s edition—it was so much fun to read what everyone’s interests were, especially the niche ones. The giveaway’s winner is Tallie Schaffer; please DM me to claim your code!

• 🦵 In the coming weeks, I’m treating my CVI in hopes that my ankle and foot pain will ease up, which means I’ll be relying on compression socks for the foreseeable future. These are still my favorites after years of testing, and perfect for travel days.

• 🤯 Google Flights has new features to show you the cost of flights in points and miles, in addition to cash, directly in search. Only Alaska/Hawaiian and American are available for now, but they’re planning to roll out others soon. Could be revolutionary—will be interested to see how it stacks up against PointsYeah, Point.Me, etc.

• 🏨 Did you know you could buy the world’s first motel? Located just outside San Luis Obispo, you could live out your Schitt’s Creek dreams in this century-old space. Also, a fun fact: “Legend has it that the original plan was to call it the Milestone Motor Hotel, but a painter couldn’t fit all the letters on the sign, and the word ‘motel’ was born.” (Nice News)

• 🚙 Weekend trips are competing with longer vacations, and fall is now the peak season to do so—tracks with my own life. In any case, get ready for some steep competition this season, especially with fall foliage. (Airbnb News)

• 📚 Ann Patchett shared her favorite books of the year, and I cannot wait for Music Against the Night based on her recommendation. (Woman’s World)

• 🇪🇸 Promptly adding Cadaqués to my list. ()

See you next week! —Henah x

Several weeks ago, after publishing a piece on Taiwan, a subscriber named Lori emailed me:

“I lived in Taiwan for a year, and while I traveled extensively, I never had an experience like the one you described. Reading your article made me realize how much I missed by not seeking out those deeper cultural connections. It wasn’t a feeling of regret so much as a reminder that the most meaningful travel experiences are often the ones we don’t know to look for, and that stayed with me because I’ve been exploring a similar question [...] Thank you for writing about travel in a way that encourages curiosity over checklists.”

It was such a thoughtful note to receive—I started Departure to dig deeper, to embrace that slower kind of travel. After some back and forth, Lori shared she’s a longtime movie producer building out a new travel venture called Odyssey Studio, offering personalized itineraries based on your interests rather than a specific place, like an interest in Indigenous loom-weaving versus saying “I want to see Peru.”

And travel that “encourages curiosity over checklists” is exactly the type of travel I want to spotlight. Her ability to explore off the beaten path—and how her brain works to actually make it happen—is inspiring, and an approach we can all learn from. Plus, getting the chance to cover a small woman-led business is deeply in line with my values, so I’m thrilled to share our conversation (and a fun little giveaway—keep scrolling) today. Enjoy!

Last chance for a $35 annual subscription (ends 8/31). Paid subscribers receive access to 110+ features and giveaways. Thank you for your support!

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Lori, you’re a longtime producer, and our readers might recognize titles you’ve worked on. At your core, you’re focused on storytelling, and that’s led to your new venture, Odyssey Studio. Can you tell us more about that?

I think I’ve been doing some version of this for a long time. When I was a junior in college, I was in Taiwan studying Chinese, but I hated the way I was being taught. I quit the program and started taking modern dance and joined a theater group instead. Suddenly my Chinese took off because I was engaging with the place through something I genuinely cared about. That experience stayed with me: Sometimes the way into a place is through the thing you’re already curious about.

Fast-forward a few decades, and I’ve spent my career as a producer thinking about stories: how you research a world, find what makes it distinctive, and create an experience that takes an audience somewhere they couldn’t have gotten to on their own.

Eventually I realized I was doing something very similar when I traveled. I’d become fascinated by a book, a period of history, a craft, a piece of mythology, and follow that thread somewhere I never would have thought to go. That’s where Odyssey came from.

What if you designed a trip the way you might develop a story? Instead of starting with a destination, you start with the person—their curiosities and obsessions—and see where those threads lead.

You have this tagline on your site: “Most trips begin with a destination. The best ones begin with you.” I think that’s very true for most readers, myself included; I’m more likely to say, “I want to visit Albania” than around a specific interest of mine. How does shifting your travels to one based on interests change how meaningful a trip can be? What has that looked like with the folks you’ve worked with so far?

Recently, I was designing a trip around seeing the Northern Lights. I started researching all the possible places to experience them, like in Alaska for example, but when I discovered that Northern Scotland was a candidate, I got really excited. It immediately replaced my original idea of sitting in a glass-covered train in Alaska, because this particular traveler had a profound appreciation for Viking lore and Norse mythology.

So the research shifted. Instead of simply finding the best place to see the Northern Lights, I started following that Norse thread through Northern Scotland and Norway. Suddenly the Northern Lights weren’t just something we were going to see; they became part of a much bigger journey through mythology, history, culture and people.

That’s the difference I’m talking about. We didn’t abandon the original goal—we found a much more meaningful way to get there.

You mentioned you’re looking for “Founding Travelers” who can help tailor the Odyssey Studio experience, and they will receive deeply discounted opportunities to a custom-designed journey. For milestone events (or simply busy professionals), a personalized trip sounds super appealing. Can you tell us how it works, and what these Founding Travelers will help do?

This is a different way of traveling, and I’d love to get feedback before I launch more broadly. I’m creating a cohort of five Founding Travelers who will go through the full Odyssey process (from the initial conversation through the research and design of their journey) at a deeply discounted rate of $99, in exchange for thoughtful feedback on the planning experience.

The feedback is really about the process itself: What resonates, what could be clearer, and what would make the experience even better. The trip itself doesn’t have to happen immediately, since it’s about the process: how we discover what matters to them, how I translate those threads into a journey, and what it’s like to receive that finished Odyssey.

As I work with those first five Founding Travelers, their feedback will help me refine the experience along the way. Then I’ll invite a second cohort, the Wayfinders, also at a discounted rate. After that, it’s go time!

📍 If you’re interested in becoming a Founding Traveler, you can sign up here. Lori is also generously gifting an additional Founding Traveler spot for one lucky paid subscriber—if you’re a paid subscriber and want to enter to win, email me at henah@henahvelez.com with your full name, where you’re based, and your top three interests, and we’ll choose the winner next week.

email me to enter

I don’t want you to give away your entire “secret sauce” of course, but I am inspired by your approach to travel, and I want to give readers a sense of what they’d expect. If I came to you and said, “I want to design a 10-day trip for my husband and me based on our shared interests of, say, jazz music, history, and vegetarian food,” how would you move forward?

Jazz music, history and vegetarian food—I’d say yum to all! My first question would be, what kind of jazz? A specific era? Particular musicians? Because those answers could completely change where the journey leads.

Then I’d start looking for the connections between those interests. Maybe the history is tied to a particular place, musician or era. Maybe the food becomes another way into that culture: from street food to a Michelin-starred vegetarian restaurant. But I wouldn’t know what those connections are until we talked. That conversation is where the Odyssey begins.

If I wanted to take this a step further and I said, “We love just watching live jazz at a place like the Spotted Cat in New Orleans, somewhere you feel alive and in the moment with other people. And we love food that's vibrant and flavorful; we'd prefer the mom-and-pop shop over fine dining any day.” Where would you go from there?

Oh, I love this. Now you've given me clues. You love jazz, but it's not necessarily about checking a famous jazz club off a list. You love the feeling of being somewhere alive, where the music is part of the place and the people. And your food choices tell me you're interested in the culture of a place, not just the food itself.

So now, I start pulling the thread. What kind of jazz? What musicians do you love? What other music do you listen to? What does "vibrant and flavorful" mean to you? What are the meals you've had while traveling that you still talk about?

And then I start researching. Maybe I discover a small town somewhere in Sweden that has an unexpectedly vibrant jazz scene—several little clubs clustered around a neighborhood with tiny restaurants and cafes. I'd want to know why that scene exists, who the musicians are, how it developed, and whether there's a story worth following.

Or, maybe your interests lead me somewhere completely different. Maybe we take a historical lens—say, jazz during Prohibition and the people and places that shaped it—and suddenly the journey has another dimension.

I don't know where the clues will lead when I start. That's the part I love. I'm following the trail until I find the journey that makes me think, oh, that's it.

How are you identifying places off the beaten path that are worth the time and energy? How can someone who wants to mostly plan their own trips but find hidden gems somewhere do that? Short of opening Google Maps and zooming in at towns outside of airport hubs, it doesn’t seem easy!

I’ve always done a lot of research when it comes to itineraries and places. A few years ago, I was traveling to the Amalfi Coast with my mom and sister, and we were planning to go to Pompeii. Then I found a blogger talking about Herculaneum, and a newspaper article that also discussed its value compared with Pompeii.

It took some mild convincing to skip the famous Pompeii, but it turned out to be one of the best decisions we made. Pompeii is huge, and you spend a lot of time imagining what used to be there. Herculaneum is much smaller and astonishingly preserved: frescoes, signage, details of everyday life are still right there. I found it a much richer experience. Once I discovered it, I thought, “Wait, why are we going to Pompeii just because everyone goes to Pompeii?”

I like looking at the “weird” lists and the “hidden” lists. When I was living in Paris for five months for work, my husband was reluctant to visit because he had no interest in Paris. This was as shocking to me as it probably is to you. So I pivoted: We’ll do weird Paris. Then we got in a car and traveled all over France, going to places no one in the States ever seemed to talk about. We had the best trip.

So my research has to include what isn’t on the five or ten most popular things to do. That doesn’t mean those places are off limits. They may absolutely belong in someone’s Odyssey. But they don’t automatically make the cut just because they’re famous.

If someone loves catacombs, war museums and gorges over the Eiffel, that’s where I want to start looking.

Designing a trip around someone's real interests means getting to know them in a different way than a typical travel advisor would. What does that discovery process look like? My example of “jazz, history, vegetarian food” is fairly specific—what if someone comes to you with vague recommendations like, “I just want to explore.” How do you dig deeper?

I love that equally. Then I get to ask questions. I get to design their story. I’ll ask about all kinds of things, poke at where they’ve traveled before and where they might wish to go. Do they love hiking? Ziplining? Animals? Do they want to feed wolves and then go paragliding? Or are they more interested in art and want to feel like they’ve stepped into a painting for a week?

The conversation will reveal areas of interest, but it also tells me how someone likes to experience the world. Are they adventure seekers? Do they want to be immersed in culture? Do they love getting their hands dirty and making things? Do they want to meet people and hear their stories?

I’ll play a detective in a great travel mystery. I’m looking for the clues that tell me what kind of journey might make this particular person light up.

The editor and producer in me has to ask: Most great stories have structure (i.e., setup, rising action, climax, resolution). Do you think about a trip in that way; does it follow a narrative at all?

I do think about narrative and rhythm, although probably not in the literal “setup, rising action, climax, resolution” way. My producer brain is always thinking about pacing, contrast and what I want the traveler to feel as the journey unfolds.

I also think about what will become the memory of each day. On our Croatia trip, one of the things I remember most vividly was learning about an ancient form of air conditioning. It wasn’t necessarily the grandest thing we did that day, but it was the detail that stuck with me. The Red Museum was another one—something unexpected that became a real moment for me. So I want each day to have something meaningful in it, but that doesn’t mean every day needs a massive event.

And then I do think about the larger arc. I don’t want to stack a bunch of great experiences next to each other and call it a journey. I want there to be rhythm: moments of discovery, moments to breathe, changes in pace, and ideally something toward the end that feels like a payoff.

But unlike a screenplay, travel has an unpredictable collaborator: reality. Weather changes. Things close. You discover something you didn’t expect. So the structure has to be flexible enough to let the unexpected become part of the story.

I think that’s where my storytelling background really matters. I’m not just asking, “What are the best things to do?” I’m thinking about how the pieces work together to create an experience that feels like a journey.

Not every traveler wants a trip like this, and they might be better off going with a standard travel advisor or booking a straightforward hotel package—for example, a couple that wants to spend their entire honeymoon at one beach resort. What’s the type of traveler you’re looking for, who might be into the idea of interest-based story-driven travel?

That is absolutely true. An Odyssey traveler is curious. They want to go a little deeper, whether that’s as an individual, with a partner or friend, or as a private group or family.

What Odyssey is not is group travel made up of strangers. You won’t need someone waving a flag to gather a bunch of people together. (Did I just reveal my biggest pet peeve?)

Maybe you’ve traveled far and wide and you’re looking for something different. Maybe you haven’t traveled extensively at all, but you want a deeper connection to a place you’re visiting. You might be an adventure seeker, a history obsessive, a food lover, an art person, or simply someone who wants to follow a curiosity and see where it leads.

The common denominator isn’t how much you’ve traveled. It’s that you want to experience a place in a way that feels personal to you.

What does slow travel look like for you nowadays, particularly as you start designing trips for others?

I’m obsessed with tea. And chocolate. I would really like to create a trip where I could do a deep dive into either of those subjects.

I’m such a tea nerd that I’ll do multiple tests to figure out the right amount of water, temperature and tea, despite what the instructions say. Is the second infusion better than the first? Do I prefer twice as much tea as recommended? Right now I’m fascinated by a unique oolong being made in Japan that emulates the mountain teas of Taiwan. And I’m waiting on a delivery of tea that’s been aged in whisky barrels from the UK.

I’d love to visit tea makers, do tastings, meet tea sommeliers and really understand the culture and craft behind it. Or I could do the same thing with chocolate. I’m an equal opportunist.

My husband would absolutely hate this trip. Which makes it interesting. Maybe he could nerd out on vintage cars while I nerd out on tea. Tea and vintage cars. Chocolate and car racing. I think it can be done.

That’s actually part of what excites me about Odyssey. You don’t necessarily have to share every interest with the person you’re traveling with. The fun is figuring out how to create a journey where each person gets to follow something they’re genuinely passionate about, while still experiencing the place together.

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• 🤑 Several brands I love and swear by have shared discount codes—if you’re already planning to do a bit of shopping, use these for an added 15–20% off:

  • DEDCOOL: My go-to for sprays and travel perfumes. (HENAH15, 15% off)

  • Crown Affair: The very best hair towel and an excellent dry shampoo, both great for travel. (HENAH15, 15% off)

  • Laundry Sauce: Intoxicating scents for laundry or to throw dryer sheets in your luggage. (HENAH15, you guessed it, 15% off)

  • Epsom-it: To soothe achy muscles, nerve pain (I still have some from my dog bite last year), and calming magnesium. (HENAH15, 15% off)

  • No Makeup Makeup: A simple and effective routine that blurs and builds up; the Foundation and Brush Duo was the only makeup I brought to France. (HENAH20, 20% off)

  • CURED: Gummies I use to relax and sleep, especially while fighting jet lag. (HENAHV, $10 off—the website is up to 40% off for its birthday sale, too.)

  • U Beauty: Every influencer under the sun loves this brand, and I see why. Science-backed skincare; expensive but worth it—it’s powerful. (HENAH20, 20% off)

• ❤️‍🩹 We lost a true icon this week—a singer, actress, songwriter, and philanthropist who brought together fans from every walk of life. If you’re looking for a fall getaway, may I humbly suggest Dollywood? 160 acres across the Great Smoky Mountains, with a memorable harvest festival.

• 💬 Been to Rio, Sri Lanka, Australia, or Copenhagen and have thoughts to share? Readers have questions in the subscriber chat.

• 😭 These traveling grandmothers—both in their 80s—are roaming around the world together. 50 countries across all seven continents. Go Ellie and Sandy! (USA Today)

• 🛫 In the largest expansion in United’s history, the airline announced it’s adding 10 new international cities and three new routes across Europe and Asia—eight of which no other US airline serves. From Newark, you’ll be able to fly nonstop in 2027 to Luxembourg City, Marseille, Valencia, Ljbuljana, and Sardinia.

See you next week. —Henah x

A road trip through the south of Spain, surrounded by white-washed walls and a mesmerizing blend of Moorish and Mediterranean styles. A winding loop around the island of Moorea, a calming view of lush green palm trees on one side, the picturesque ocean on the other. Crossing the border between Croatia and Bosnia, stopping at a local restaurant for lunch…

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Slow, quiet travel has always appealed to me—but it’s ultimately only one branch of a much larger ecosystem rooted around slower living. For years, I worked at The Good Trade which focused on slow, ethical, and sustainable fashion. And I think, maybe unexpectedly, there’s a generous overlap between slow fashion and slow travel; a thread (literally and f…

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I’ve just returned home from the South of France, where I celebrated my 35th birthday a bit early, but in style. My best friend and I spent several nights in Paris, before heading to visit my friend Chelsea’s new home in Arles. Despite the heatwave, we spent the days walking around historic tiny towns, stopping into antique stores, and toasting to new f…

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Bonjour! I’m currently in Paris with my best friend, and as this lands in your inbox, we’ll be heading to the south of France—I can’t wait to share more.

In the meantime, I’m thrilled to welcome our third guest author for our guest guide series: . She’s been working on this feature for months, and it shows; this is one handy cheat sheet! I’ll let her ta…

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On a drizzly April morning, my husband and I traversed the longest suspension bridge in Yilan, Taiwan, adorned with richly colored diamond-shaped designs. Just over 1,000 feet long, we slowly but surely walked above layers of verdant greenery to the other end—where we’d meet the Bulau Bulau tribe of the Atayal people.

I’ve always been fascinated by Indig…

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Last year, I recapped how my husband and I racked up 175,000 points in a year. We didn’t turn to sign-up bonuses, expensive purchases, or even strategically spend on cards that 5x the points instead of 4x the points.

I shared in as much detail as I could, because I wanted to show that travel made possible by points is possible. It just takes a little up…

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The human body is a fickle thing: While in London last fall, I dealt with debilitating jet lag every single day, lying awake all night—only to fall asleep around 7AM until noon. On my recent excursion across Europe last month though, I didn’t have a single issue and fell right into the Circadian rhythm of Central European time-zone. I returned home and immediately adjusted back to EST.

When we talk about slow, quiet travel—trips that allow you to rest—we can’t ignore the importance of quality sleep. We of course need it in order to function, but we’re often willing to forgo it when there are special experiences on the line or when FOMO strikes: a sunrise hike, a late-night party, getting drinks with friends.

Travel worsens our ability to recover, especially when we’re crossing multiple time zones and traveling east, which means advancing our internal clock. That doesn’t just mean sacrificing sleep or dealing with fatigue; it also affects our entirely body, including indigestion, weakened immune function, and reduced mental performance.

With one parent who suffers from sleep apnea and the other from insomnia, I have long known sleep issues are likely to affect me. So last November after my experience in the UK, I began experimenting with different tools and techniques—in addition to the rituals I’ve honed over the last decade—to fight jet lag, enjoy quality sleep, and actually feel rested.

A few caveats: I’m admittedly a night owl (or the wolf chronotype), I aim for eight hours or more a night, and I’m a huge fan of naps. And as someone with a few chronic disabilities, I am what I’d call a 1% Sleep Spender: I will happily invest in sources to improve my sleep, period.

However, these are only the tools that have worked for me over the last eight months of testing. I am not a licensed professional, so please do your own due diligence and check with a medical professional if you consider any supplements. I’ve broken down the different stages of preparing to fight jet lag from before you leave to readjusting upon your return. (And if you’re curious how jet lag works to begin with, this primer breaks it down well.) Sweet dreams!

The Key to Quality Sleep While Traveling Starts Before You Leave

The easiest way to signal that you’re ready for bed to your body will be following the same rituals you would back home. In that sense, how you sleep at home is highly instrumental in a new location.

Amy Behimer, a Pharm.D and board-certified health and wellness coach, also recommends “trusting in the tiny” habits to create consistency while on the road: “Bring micro-versions of your usual bedtime rituals so your brain knows it’s time to rest, even in a new setting. That might mean jotting a single line in a journal, reading a few pages of a book, applying a familiar hand lotion, or listening to one calming song you play before bed. Pair these with tiny environmental shifts—like dimming your phone screen to match your destination’s nighttime or slipping on cozy socks—and you’re giving your body repeated cues to downshift into sleep mode.”

My bedtime routine is fairly simple and reliable: My husband and I get ready for bed, and then play the NYT games together on my phone. By the time I get to the crossword, he’s already fallen asleep, and once I’m done with the crossword, I’m ready to knock out, too. If I’m not particularly sleepy, I’ll start reading a book, and am typically asleep in 20 minutes.

But in some seasons of life, I have a harder time falling and staying asleep. After many years, this is the “survival tool kit” I’ve built in desperation to get some ZZZs:

• I always thought a cooling mattress might be overhyped, but as someone who has a hard time with hormonal thermoregulation, investing in one truly changed everything for me. This is what we’ve had for several years—at one point recently, our cat punctured the pad and we would’ve paid happily for a replacement despite the very high cost, because we love it that much. My husband sleeps cooler than I do, but I find that a schedule between 75–85 degrees helps me stay comfortable all night long.

• Loose clothing and soft, cool sheets are key. As part of my past work, I tested out extremely expensive linen sheets (skip, they don’t hold up in the wash) along with cheap big-box stores. I’m surprised to say it, but I do find Target’s Essentials sheets (pre-cancellation) to be a solid budget pick, and I like Miracle Made for higher-end crisp sheets because they’re also anti-microbial and cooling.

• I store this weighted sleep mask next to my bed, and I have a version I’ll also bring on trips with me. When it’s starting to get light outside during a bout of insomnia, I’ll throw this on for immediate relief. Plus, it beats investing in expensive blackout curtains.

• I like these nightly sleep packs—they’re melatonin-free and non-habit forming. They’re expensive, but they do work for me. If I don’t have access to these, I like taking one of these gummies; it’s not enough THC to make me feel out of control, and helps me relax to the point of sleepiness.

• Because of my aforementioned chronotype, my alarm would often go off when I was in the middle of a REM cycle, causing intense grogginess and headaches. I have since shifted to an app called Sleep Cycle, which tracks your sleep stages via your phone’s microphone and wakes you up during the lightest sleep phase. It has been an absolute game-changer. It’s currently free to use all summer! I am also obsessed with tracking my sleep score (I wear my Oura ring religiously) and noting any trends or concerning patterns over time. If you’re curious about how they compare:

Planning Ahead Against Jet Lag

You know you’re going to embark on a trip across multiple time zones, and you have your plan once you get there. But what about in the days leading up to your departure and in transit? You guessed it: That’s just as important.

• First, plan your sleep like you plan your itinerary—far ahead of time, if you can. According to Major Allison Brager, US Army Sleep Specialist, “Banking on sleep prior to anticipated sleep deprivation and jet lag can reduce the consequences of jet lag. Army scientists have conducted studies in the lab and in the field showing this hack is legitimate and works under most circumstances for reducing physical and cognitive fatigue, improving mood, and preserving decision making.”

• Far and away, the #1 app I’ve heard to help manage jet lag is Timeshifter. You put in your flight times, and it’ll auto-create an itinerary to follow to minimize sleep disruption (like avoid caffeine for nine hours, or see bright light for the next three hours). You can set it up before you leave, and it incorporates all stopovers. Your first use with Timeshifter is free, and then charges for future trips.

• If you want something a little more regimented and with some supplemental help, you could also try Flykitt. My husband tested it out on our London trip (I can’t have caffeine) and had a positive experience: The app, in conjunction with supplements and blue-light filtering glasses, gave him a guided itinerary of what to take and when. The downside is remembering to bring the meds with you each day and taking them on time. But if you want to fight both jet lag and bloat, this is a good go-to.

• Nearly every expert I heard from said to pack a basic sleep kit: an eye mask, ear plugs (I like these), or even a calming scent like lavender spray or a perfume that reminds you of home. While most airlines might offer this already on an overnight flight, many won’t, even if it’s a six-hour transatlantic flight during the day. This is worthwhile to bring with you beyond a flight as well, because you never know if a hotel or train will deal with noise or light disturbances.

• On the note of ear plugs, brown noise will mask engine noise while flying, and pink noise can mask road hum and tire noise if you’re driving.

• Never forget a sturdy neck pillow. I also saw this hack—I can’t speak to it myself yet, but in any case, don’t forget proper neck and head support.

• Wear comfortable, loose layers. You don’t want to be tossing and turning in an airplane seat wearing jeans, and I always pack a cardigan, scarf, or outer layer that can act as a blanket.

• Take a 30-minute walk before boarding: Try to tire yourself out as much as you can before getting on the plane. Walk around the lounge, check out duty-free shops, people-watch throughout the terminal, whatever you can do to get those steps in.

• Book seats above the engine or alongside the wings, typically between Row 10 and 25. You’re less likely to get motion sickness, and the hum of the engine will act as white noise.

• Once you board the plane, immediately change the time on your phone to the new destination’s time, a gentle nudge to your body and brain to adapt.

• Longtime readers know I need Dramamine on all flights to avoid motion sickness. I take the non-drowsy version when I’m flying short-haul, but I’ll take a full regular Dramamine if I’m on a 4+ hour flight, and that also helps me stay sleepy enough when I return home to go right back to bed. If I land and I feel groggy somewhere and need to power through, I will chug water until it feels flushed out of my system. I also avoid alcohol on planes, as I know my sleep quality will plummet.

Fight Jet Lag Once You’re There, Beyond “Just Stay Awake”

Look, we’ve all heard it time and time again: Just power through and try to stay awake until your usual bedtime. It works, I get it!

That’s always easier said than done. There is no way I will land at 6AM after a turbulent redeye and stay awake until 11PM—I’m not even up at 6AM at home. In this case, Martin Reed, founder of Insomnia Coach and board-certified health and wellness coach, has some helpful advice: “If you reach your destination at a time when you’d normally be sleeping, you might want to grab a bit of sleep and then try to get up at your normal time…A consistent out of bed time in the morning, a day filled with meaningful activities, and not chasing after sleep (for example, by going to bed earlier than normal) are often the most helpful ways to give sleep the opportunity to get back on track while traveling.”

If you’re really struggling to stay awake, according to Major Brager, you can caffeinate intentionally: Have two strong cups of coffee (200 mg of caffeine) every four hours at least eight hours prior to bedtime, especially if you have a busy day ahead of you. For example, if you aim to sleep at 10PM, you can have coffee at 6AM, 10AM, and 2PM before cutting off. Or, if you make it until the evening, she recommends a small 3mg dose of melatonin the first night or two to help soothe your body.

As for me, I try to strategically time a nap in my day, even if it’s up to two hours long, instead of the oft-suggested 30-minute power nap. If I land at 8AM, I’ll sleep at the hotel from 10:30AM–12:30PM, and then continue on until about 10PM.

The other two most important and evidence-backed ways to support your Circadian clock that you’ve also likely heard before: Timing your light exposure and your meals. Getting bright light first thing in the morning resets your internal clock, and if you schedule all your meals in line with your new destination’s time zone, that will act as an additional signal to your body.

Upon Returning Home

You’ve probably also heard the adage that it takes the body one day per time zone to readjust to its Circadian rhythm. In my experience, I’ve found that to largely be true, so if you can, take an extra day at home for yourself to re-acclimate—an extra paid day off, coming home a night early on a long weekend or holiday, etc. I always worked to maximize my time in any destination but as I get older, I find the value in coming home a night early to decompress and readjust.

As for falling asleep and staying asleep back in your own bed, depending on how much you want to optimize: I’ve tried this Somnee sleep headband. You wear it for 15 minutes before bed, and it’ll send “personalized neurostimulation to your brain’s natural sleep signals,” which helps you fall asleep faster and boosts restorative deep sleep.

It’s a solid sleep gadget, but I often wake up with the Somnee off of my head, so keep that in mind if you move around a lot like me. Somnee is HSA/FSA eligible and you can try it risk-free for 45 days, so if you really struggle, this could be a Hail Mary. Otherwise, it’s back to my tried-and-true routine!

While traveling back (from the east, especially) can be harder on sleep once you’re home, the good news is: Generally speaking, your sleep duration will bounce back quickly. And then it’s back to (hopefully) eight hours in your own bed until your next trip, and there’s no better feeling.

If you have any tips to combat jet lag and get quality sleep, whether at home or while traveling, please do share them—because we could all use more rest and recovery:

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• 🚗 Speaking of insomnia, I will typically read when I can’t fall back asleep, and this recent read about a car crash featuring three teenagers and the parents who might end up in prison was riveting while I laid awake at 4AM last week: “The Oak Grove 100 was an attempt to reach 100 mph on a two-lane road with a speed limit of 35. But in the long aftermath of Sophie’s death, it was possible to see it another way: as a percentage. When the time came for the distribution of guilt, there were 100 percentage points to hand out. Who should get them? How many each?” I’m an AJC subscriber, so sharing a gift link here. (Atlanta Journal-Constitution)

• 🚂 “Before I fell in love with Paris, I fell in love with Eurostar.” A fellow writer from the Southeast waxes poetic about the same train I took from London to Paris last month, and it truly is a form of magic. ()

• 📋 This solo traveler shared her list of non-negotiables when she’s traveling alone. They align well with my own philosophy, and she has other valuable recommendations I’m incorporating.

• 👀 This renowned brand is hiring a Senior Editor focused on travel, up to $125k.

• 🥰 Annie Lachhman-Persaud has cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair. That doesn’t stop her family from doing daycations around New York City, and documenting their local travel. Heartwarming, family-focused, and hopeful. (Travel + Leisure)

See you next week! —Henah x

Newport, RI is a destination that holds a lot of meaning in my heart, and yet I don’t remember a single thing I did there. Let me back up.

For several years after college, my close girlfriends and I would try to travel to a nearby town around Memorial Day Weekend. In 2019, we chose Newport.

On the day we were supposed to drive over, my best friend, Sarah…

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When we first launched Departure nearly two years ago, we envisioned covering all the lesser-appreciated parts of travel: The slower mornings, the space to reflect, and the books we brought along for the journey. Because in this author’s humble opinion, books and slow travel go hand-in-hand; they require thoughtfulness, deep attention, and a desire to t…

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This edition is available to all subscribers, courtesy of our sponsor Sky Key.

You could manually track the prices of your flights—or you could let Sky Key do it for you. Sky Key monitors your flight prices from the day you book until the day before you leave, and if the price drops at any point (whether you booked in cash or points), it’ll automatically…

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Greetings from Tuscany! 🇮🇹 I’m currently on my long-awaited solo trip across Europe, and it’s been both a liberating and interesting experience—it seems people are surprised that a (happily) married woman would travel alone for fun, but I wanted to challenge myself outside of my comfort zone this year, so here we are.

If you’re not sure how to ease int…

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This edition is available to all subscribers, courtesy of our sponsor Sky Key.

With any complex trip—think multiple destinations, inter-country flights, tight travel windows—locking in the right flights at the right price often feels like you’re taking a gamble. But it doesn’t have to.

Sky Key monitors your flight from booking to departure. If the price …

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