Slow travel: the definition no one talks about.

We mixed up travel with ticking things off. Slow travel is going back to what we actually feel.

For years, I thought traveling was a race.

Plane tickets, to-do lists, (way) too much pins on Google Maps. “What to do in Spain”, “Best restaurants in London”, “Must-see Italy”. As if Google could tell me what really matters if not feeding this infinite list of 'Must-see in the planet'. As if the point of life was to optimise the world, country by country.

One day I just stopped fearing to miss something. Who has even walked through every street of their own city?

Traveling is sensing. It’s feeling something : touching, watching, smelling, hearing, tasting. Life’s best moments don’t happen in transit. Slow travel is not about getting there, it’s about being there. Where time lingers and smiles last longer.

I remember this detour we made in Burgundy, we kept passing a tiny house that smelled unreal.

One afternoon, we knocked.

It was a small bakery manufacturing. She made cookies and bread there, quietly. I could not remember how to get back there anymore.

But I remember the first warm bite.
The crumb melting.
That sweet yeasty air.

I remember talking for a long time, losing track of time completely.
And returning the next day.
And the day after.

Traveling is creating opportunity for the door that smells good.

Slow travel is not “being slow”.

Slow travel is opting out of the list.
It’s choosing intensity, not volume.
Trips collect locations.
Detours collect moments.

Pirouette, les plus beaux détours.

Short distances. Big moments.
Human-sized group trips, where we actually meet each other, and meet the places.