Before you get bored by the idea or even the sound of slow travel, we’re not talking about a snail’s pace. We’re talking a minimum or even a week to really get to know a place beyond all the selfie sticks. Ideally, a few weeks. For some, it takes months – although, of course, this depends on where you are and what the location can offer.
Somewhere like Paris, for example. It wouldn’t take months to get a real feel for your surroundings. But many rush from the Eiffel Tower to the Louvre and Notre Dame in a single grueling day. They don’t even consider finding out where their favorite local bakery is, or the friendships that could be made.
Ultimately, slow travel is the difference between saying “I’ve been there” with a day to tick off and living like a local would.
Let’s take my experience in Lisbon as an example. Rather than follow a typical itinerary and all the tourist traps, I stayed for three weeks in a tiny apartment in the Alfama neighborhood. On the fifth day, the owner of the small corner shop greeted me by name and gave me advice. Then, during the second week, an old Portuguese neighbor invited me to her house and she taught me her secret bacalhau recipe which, even today, is a staple at home and always brings back good memories.
In fact, there are a few fundamental principles that slow travel is based on:
- Cultural immersion – meet the locals
- Sustainability – supporting small businesses
- Savor unique moments
These are things you won’t get in the common guidebook that takes you to all the crowded, expensive “attractions” that are further and further from the true beauty of a place.
Why does everyone suddenly start traveling slowly?
Slow travel isn’t exactly new. People have been doing this for ages. But recently, the desire to do so has grown even more.
That’s because, frankly, we’re all a little fed up with overtourism. I would argue that social media has a lot to do with the overexposure of what were once treasured and truly loved monuments around the world. The times I’ve seen influencers stand up, take a photo, and look at their phone to post it. There they were – checkbox filled, content published. I bet many of them leave with little to cherish.
For the rest of us, we go to these places and it’s completely overrun, with selfie sticks, a stressful atmosphere, and even scammers taking advantage of the hordes of victims.
There is also the sustainability aspect. I started thinking seriously about my carbon footprint after reading that a single long-haul flight produces more CO2 than some people produce in a year in some countries. This hit me hard. Slow travel means fewer flights and more support for local businesses rather than international chains – which seems increasingly important as we watch our planet struggle.
The boom in remote work has also played a major role. These days, many of us are able to take our work with us. It is therefore entirely possible to be absent for longer periods while still maintaining a professional life. Plus, productivity explodes when you’re somewhere inspiring rather than at the kitchen table at home.
Of course, mental health is involved. How did everything get so fast and pressured? Feeling exhausted after what should be a break is crazy. Slow travel, however, offers a real opportunity to reset. Spending two weeks in a small Finnish lakeside cabin was like a brain transplant for me, thanks to the total absence of tourist “must-sees” hanging over my head – it was paradise.
The fear of missing out becomes the joy of missing out and finding something better.
How to Start Traveling Slowly (Without Quitting Your Job)
Is this slow journey actually impossible for you? Absolutely not. Here’s how you can embark on a slow journey without drastic changes in your life.
First, start with a destination that gives you value for your money. Places like Chiang Mai in Thailand, parts of Portugal, or smaller cities in Eastern Europe offer a lower cost of living, making it easier to stay longer. My month in Budapest costs about the same as 10 days in Paris.
Aim for at least a week, but ideally more. Two weeks is where the benefits of slow travel really come to life: you move beyond the tourist mentality and start immersing yourself in local rhythms. I use Airbnb for longer stays and always message hosts to negotiate monthly rates, which are almost always discounted.
Shop where locals shop! Find markets, family cafes and places without English menus. This is where you will discover a true taste for where you are and learn more. These places also help you budget better because they don’t charge crazy tourist prices. (You can also make your money last longer by preparing some meals at home.)
Join something local: a cooking class, language exchange, or community event. When I was in Mexico, I attended a free weekly salsa class in the town square. I was a complete loser, but I met amazing people and laughed more than I had in months.
And remember: don’t let language barriers deter you. Everything will be fine and you will be surprised how well you get along with minimal shared language. Gestures, smiles, Google Translate, and a willingness to look a little silly go a long way.
Is slow travel really for you?
Slow travel goes against the “top 10 must-sees” and famous landmarks. Instead, you’ll be busy learning how to make pasta from a local nonna or spending the afternoon chatting with the traders in a small village.
What you get in exchange for missing the iconic lines and crowds are real stories, real connections, and experiences that stay with you long after the holiday tan has faded.
Not all of my slow travel experiences have been perfect. I’ve had lonely moments, frustrating language mix-ups, and days where I wondered why I wasn’t going on a nice, easy package vacation. But even the difficult times taught me something: about the place, about the culture, or about myself.
I promise you’ll come back with something far more valuable than a roll full of memorable photos. You’ll come back with stories, recipes, maybe even friendships – and a whole new way of seeing the world.
