I return, tanned, rested and ready to hit the ground running.
Others leave me with a full camera roll of rich memories and a very empty tank. Blistered and weary, I need at least three days to recover from a demanding (yet totally self-imposed) daily schedule of walking a marathon distance each day between various attractions or activities.
On the surface, these two kinds of trips seem identical. In both instances, I can visit a new destination, rub shoulders with another culture, follow an itinerary and share enviable images to social media along the way.
There is a difference, though; one we can all miss.
It’s the difference between going travelling and going on holiday. Understanding the subtle distinction (and being able to communicate it to travel partners) goes a long way towards planning and taking your ideal trip.
What is a holiday?
Holiday, vacation, leisure travel; whatever you call it, this type of travel optimises everything towards rest and relaxation. The itinerary, accommodation and even destination are first chosen to facilitate your idea of leisure.
It’s why we boomerang back to destinations like Bali or Fiji, never tiring of the surf at Uluwatu, yoga classes at Ubud or flopping down by a beach in Denerau.
Sure, one doesn’t need to fly away for a physical or mental interlude but the geographic (and thus emotional) space and novelty do make things easier.
On a holiday I’m sleeping in and spending hours reading stacks of books in the sun.
I’m visiting the same cafe or beach spot because I discovered it on day one and it’s great. I’m ambling around a village content to soak up the buzz of people and perhaps buy a sweet treat. My itinerary is sparse but my time is rich and rejuvenating.
Another, more trendy name for this approach is “slow travel”, which encourages frantic people to be less frantic travellers by spending more time in fewer destinations.
Now, slow travel doesn’t mean forgoing experiences or attractions (arguably, slowing down and resting allows one to engage with these things more deeply).
Rather, the driving motivation to travel is to simply “be” in a place rather than to do things in a place.
Embarking on a trip, travelling or sightseeing, is the opposite. On these expeditions, days begin with the sunrise (beat! those! crowds!) and end 30,000 steps later after we’ve seen, eaten and experienced as much as we can absorb (and then some).
Experience is pursued above, and often at the expense of, rest. It’s a style of travel closely tied to the amount of money and time we’ve spent getting to a destination.
If we’ve dropped $5000 and 10 days of annual leave to reach London, the pressure to optimise every moment is far higher than a weekend in Melbourne.
Optimising looks like perusing museums and visiting markets, marvelling in art galleries and posing before landmarks. It’s an itinerary full of superlatives; the best restaurant for dinner and the most photogenic cafe for coffee, the largest shopping mall, and the highest viewpoint.
Which approach is better?
What kind of travel is morally or logistically superior? A better question is: what type of travel will best serve you?
If you’re hungry for novelty and excitement, to thoroughly experience all a destination has to offer, an action-packed itinerary is fitting.
Those feeling worn-out or weary, however, should consider a holiday that prioritises pleasures one typically doesn’t have time or mental space to enjoy, whether it’s long outdoor walks, reading novels, browsing shops or napping whenever you wish.
That being said, the trip styles aren’t binary. A relaxing trip can involve some sightseeing or bucket-list ticking. Despite the pressure to stuff our days with “worthwhile experiences”, any trip over seven days arguably requires some rest.
Maturity as a traveller is no longer seeing one’s inability to flawlessly optimise our time during a trip as a failure. It’s understanding that we don’t have limitless capacity on the best of days, so we certainly won’t have it on day eight of a trip that began with 24 hours of air travel and a time zone change. Plus, these moments or days of slowness can often provide the sweetest memories.
I recently enjoyed a packed trip around the Mediterranean on a seven-day cruise followed by seven days in a sleepy Italian village.
Did I enjoy touring Athens’ Parthenon, exploring Sorrento’s lemon-themed markets or visiting the old town of Kotor? Absolutely.
Yet, I also deeply appreciated the slow mornings making moka coffee in my Airbnb or skipping several ‘must-try’ restaurants and returning to the same tiny pizzeria run by a man named Gennaro for several nights.
I’ll never forget waking up at 5am to hike Amalfi’s Path of the Gods or walking 30,000 steps one day in Athens, but I also cherished the afternoons spent reading at the beach, surrounded by bronzed old Italians and the nights I swapped exploring the nightlife for a movie and early bedtime.
These different approaches (travel, vacation or a mix of both) are also crucial to discuss with a travel partner, ideally before booking a trip but at least before departure.
It’s deeply frustrating to wake up early, eager to see the sights while your partner hits the snooze button or protests at plans to do just one more activity before lunch.
Likewise, it’s punishing to be woken up at dawn and dragged around a city when you’re desperate to relax by the pool.
Save the conflict and ask one another, or yourself: what is the priority for the trip and will this change at any point?
Do we want to see as much as possible, prioritise some much-needed rest or a mix of both? Then, rest easy knowing exactly what kind of experience you’re in for.