The images of beach, sun and sea, mountains or city panoramas seem to promise exactly what we are looking for and what we are longing for at the moment.

They promise a counterpoint to everyday life, which at the moment may seem particularly gray, cold, with intense demands from all sides or following the same patterns.

Are we really clear about what we are really looking for?

According to the French philosopher Michel de Montaigne:

“When people ask me why I travel, I answer, I know what I’m running from, but I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

And can we actually find what we are looking for in one of the categories that a tour operator or hotel portal considers viable?

Do we want to follow the recommendation of a guidebook that proclaims with authority what is worth seeing in 24 hours, in a long weekend or in a week and do we think we can travel individually with it?

Because individual are our desires, which are the reason for our longing for time off.

Are we just swapping vacation stress for everyday stress?

The desire for sunshine that warms us and loosens all the muscles that seem to have grown together into one painful tension after endless video conferences and car rides is understandable.

However, is the place we plan to travel actually the place where we can relax or are we switching from everyday stress to vacation stress?

Do we need entertainment, beach vendors or animators? Do we really crave the maximum range of courses and new self-experiences, or would a plain sun lounger in a lonely landscape, otherwise so boring that no one would report on it, be just the thing?

What did you do on vacation?

Do we fulfill with the choice of our destination already during the planning phase the later perfect answer to the question: How was the vacation?

Is the choice of vacation destination another piece in the mosaic to further complete the image of ourselves?

An honest look inside ourselves may show us what we are looking for and we travel to where we receive what is good for our soul. Perhaps it is a dusty place overlooking a concrete plant in Puglia, which offers nothing in the way of variety and makes us rest.

Maybe it’s slow car rides through deserted cities that make us realize the fragility of life and thus appreciate what’s really important.

Maybe it’s wandering through a foreign Asian metropolis whose language we don’t speak, consciously without a guidebook, disregarding the top ten attractions, but with the sense of achievement of having managed on our own in the maze of streets and the benefit of the smile that the tea vendor gives us?

The question that needs to be answered is: do we want to travel or do we want to arrive? This is even more true in post-Covid times, now that travel is valued far more preciously.