Thanks for confirming some things. I am at this point where 1 month somewhere is comfortable. And being "home" is more about what else can I get rid of? Things I don't need, gathering dust, things my children will not want or use. How much "stuff" do I really need that I can't get elsewhere? I LOVE making my own routes to the local coffee shops in new places that I can return to. Or a shop owner recognizing me. Being able to settle quietly in a library and actually getting work done. The travelers here in Substack are providing great insight, including you! I am always interested in the travel dynamics of a duo too. Thanks for sharing your wisdom!
Adelaide — this resonates so deeply. That question of “what do I really need that I can’t get elsewhere?” is such a quiet but powerful threshold. Once you start answering it honestly, home stops being a container for stuff and becomes a rhythm you can recreate.
I love the way you describe belonging: your own coffee routes, being recognized, settling into a library long enough for your nervous system to exhale and your work to flow. That’s the real luxury of a month — not novelty, but return.
And thank you for the kind words. The duo dynamic adds another layer entirely — it’s a constant practice in pacing, negotiation, and shared curiosity — but when it works, it deepens the experience rather than diluting it.
I’m really glad we’re all comparing notes here. This corner of Substack feels like a collective unlearning of how much we’re told we need. 💛 Kelly
I didn’t even know what “slow travel” meant until I met you, and now it’s all I want to do. The thing that happens on day 5 is so special, but the things on day 22 are a different variety. One has to experience it to know how amazing it can be.
Cory — this made my whole morning! You captured it so well: day 5 is beautiful, but day 22 is where something quieter and deeper clicks into place. That’s when the place stops performing for you and starts letting you belong.
I love knowing you felt that shift. It’s the part of slow travel that’s hard to explain and impossible to unsee once you’ve lived it. As always, thanks for putting words to it so generously. 💛
I love where this going, Kelly and the idea of a "One-Month Decision Compass" that I think could be extrapolated for people to use also when they want to make a more permanent move, or even choose where to go on vacation for a couple of weeks. It is all about the fit with your personally and not with what you think you should do. Happy holidays and I look forward to engaging more with your work and journeys in the new year!
N.V. — yes, that’s exactly the point. Once you strip away the “shoulds,” the same questions work whether you’re choosing a month, a move, or even just where to spend a couple of precious weeks. Fit beats fantasy every time.
Really appreciate you seeing the broader application here — and thank you for the kind words. Looking forward to crossing paths more in the new year!
Thanks so much, Matt — I really appreciate you taking the time to say that. Clarity is the whole point for me, so it means a lot to hear it landed the way I hoped!
You mean you actually look at a paper map? Love it. This piece is so spot-on in its practicality, hitting all the points. Your 5–2 rhythm intrigues me, and I'm interested in what you said about feeling your energy dip this time when coming back home. How long does it usually take before you start itching to leave again?
Elias — yes, real paper maps still make an appearance 🙂
They slow the decision-making in a good way.
As for the itch: usually around 3–4 weeks after we’re home.
The first stretch feels grounding — friends, routines, nesting. Then there’s a quiet restlessness that creeps in. Not a need to escape, just a signal that my energy works better with forward motion and seasonal change.
The biggest shift for me has been realizing the dip isn’t a problem to fix. It’s a cue. Once I listen to it instead of pushing through, everything gets calmer — including the decision to leave again.
Glad the 5–2 rhythm resonated. It’s been the difference between wandering and actually feeling steady.
Love how you put this. It really describes what slow travel is like. It's those little things...learning where all the items you like to buy at your favorite grocery store are located so you can go straight to them, having a barista know your "regular" order, seeing the same locals often enough that you begin to acknowledge each other with a nod and a smile, establishing routines that match those of the neighborhood...that bring you a sense of comfort, familiarity and home. I have to admit I fall into that trap of moving too quickly sometimes, trying to visit more locations for shorter periods of time, because I just want to experience as much as I can. But when I slow down for longer stays I realize that this is the better way to live. Reading your thoughts validates that even further. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Jim — this is such a beautiful articulation of it. Those small recognitions — the nods, the “regular,” the muscle memory of daily life — are where a place quietly turns into home.
I also relate to that pull to move quickly and see more; it’s a generous instinct. But like you said, the longer stays reveal a different kind of richness — one that settles into the body, not just the camera roll.
I’m really glad this resonated, and grateful you took the time to share it.
A month really gives you a chance to get into a rhythm! Time to find out the inner workings of the place, and set up that current rhythm to do what you want in your own time which I think is awesome.
Marlo — yes, that’s exactly it! A month is long enough for the noise to fade and the real rhythm to show itself, so you’re no longer reacting to a place but moving with it. That’s where it starts to feel less like travel and more like living.
Rosie — thank you so much. That means a lot. Slow and intentional is the goal, and we’re grateful to carry this plan forward with so much support around us!
Thanks for confirming some things. I am at this point where 1 month somewhere is comfortable. And being "home" is more about what else can I get rid of? Things I don't need, gathering dust, things my children will not want or use. How much "stuff" do I really need that I can't get elsewhere? I LOVE making my own routes to the local coffee shops in new places that I can return to. Or a shop owner recognizing me. Being able to settle quietly in a library and actually getting work done. The travelers here in Substack are providing great insight, including you! I am always interested in the travel dynamics of a duo too. Thanks for sharing your wisdom!
Adelaide — this resonates so deeply. That question of “what do I really need that I can’t get elsewhere?” is such a quiet but powerful threshold. Once you start answering it honestly, home stops being a container for stuff and becomes a rhythm you can recreate.
I love the way you describe belonging: your own coffee routes, being recognized, settling into a library long enough for your nervous system to exhale and your work to flow. That’s the real luxury of a month — not novelty, but return.
And thank you for the kind words. The duo dynamic adds another layer entirely — it’s a constant practice in pacing, negotiation, and shared curiosity — but when it works, it deepens the experience rather than diluting it.
I’m really glad we’re all comparing notes here. This corner of Substack feels like a collective unlearning of how much we’re told we need. 💛 Kelly
I didn’t even know what “slow travel” meant until I met you, and now it’s all I want to do. The thing that happens on day 5 is so special, but the things on day 22 are a different variety. One has to experience it to know how amazing it can be.
Cory — this made my whole morning! You captured it so well: day 5 is beautiful, but day 22 is where something quieter and deeper clicks into place. That’s when the place stops performing for you and starts letting you belong.
I love knowing you felt that shift. It’s the part of slow travel that’s hard to explain and impossible to unsee once you’ve lived it. As always, thanks for putting words to it so generously. 💛
I love where this going, Kelly and the idea of a "One-Month Decision Compass" that I think could be extrapolated for people to use also when they want to make a more permanent move, or even choose where to go on vacation for a couple of weeks. It is all about the fit with your personally and not with what you think you should do. Happy holidays and I look forward to engaging more with your work and journeys in the new year!
N.V. — yes, that’s exactly the point. Once you strip away the “shoulds,” the same questions work whether you’re choosing a month, a move, or even just where to spend a couple of precious weeks. Fit beats fantasy every time.
Really appreciate you seeing the broader application here — and thank you for the kind words. Looking forward to crossing paths more in the new year!
I love this approach and how you explain it so clearly and compellingly! Thanks Kelly
Thanks so much, Matt — I really appreciate you taking the time to say that. Clarity is the whole point for me, so it means a lot to hear it landed the way I hoped!
— Kelly
You mean you actually look at a paper map? Love it. This piece is so spot-on in its practicality, hitting all the points. Your 5–2 rhythm intrigues me, and I'm interested in what you said about feeling your energy dip this time when coming back home. How long does it usually take before you start itching to leave again?
Elias — yes, real paper maps still make an appearance 🙂
They slow the decision-making in a good way.
As for the itch: usually around 3–4 weeks after we’re home.
The first stretch feels grounding — friends, routines, nesting. Then there’s a quiet restlessness that creeps in. Not a need to escape, just a signal that my energy works better with forward motion and seasonal change.
The biggest shift for me has been realizing the dip isn’t a problem to fix. It’s a cue. Once I listen to it instead of pushing through, everything gets calmer — including the decision to leave again.
Glad the 5–2 rhythm resonated. It’s been the difference between wandering and actually feeling steady.
💛 Kelly
Just started my own travel page (check it out), LOVE this content
Thank you — and will do! Nice to have you here 💛
thanks for being my first subscriber!
Love how you put this. It really describes what slow travel is like. It's those little things...learning where all the items you like to buy at your favorite grocery store are located so you can go straight to them, having a barista know your "regular" order, seeing the same locals often enough that you begin to acknowledge each other with a nod and a smile, establishing routines that match those of the neighborhood...that bring you a sense of comfort, familiarity and home. I have to admit I fall into that trap of moving too quickly sometimes, trying to visit more locations for shorter periods of time, because I just want to experience as much as I can. But when I slow down for longer stays I realize that this is the better way to live. Reading your thoughts validates that even further. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Jim — this is such a beautiful articulation of it. Those small recognitions — the nods, the “regular,” the muscle memory of daily life — are where a place quietly turns into home.
I also relate to that pull to move quickly and see more; it’s a generous instinct. But like you said, the longer stays reveal a different kind of richness — one that settles into the body, not just the camera roll.
I’m really glad this resonated, and grateful you took the time to share it.
– Kelly
A month really gives you a chance to get into a rhythm! Time to find out the inner workings of the place, and set up that current rhythm to do what you want in your own time which I think is awesome.
Marlo — yes, that’s exactly it! A month is long enough for the noise to fade and the real rhythm to show itself, so you’re no longer reacting to a place but moving with it. That’s where it starts to feel less like travel and more like living.
– Kelly
I love your plan. Safe travels.
Rosie — thank you so much. That means a lot. Slow and intentional is the goal, and we’re grateful to carry this plan forward with so much support around us!