(Written on my trip to Italy.)
Is there a right way to take a vacation?
I suppose that up until now, the only experience I have had on “vacation” is one of traveling, schedules packed to the brim with this landmark and that tour, backpacks filled with water bottles and an untouched sketchbook or two.
I have always hoped for (and romanticized) a vacation where the word “itinerary” does not exist, one where I can wander the streets of a new city, discover a cozy spot, and draw, read, write, or simply sit and think.
But, then the ever-present devil on my shoulder begins to question, “would you not get bored? is that not a waste of money? Really, you are going to pay for a ticket and a room, just to do nothing?”
But then, I think, is the point of vacation not to relax? Or, to do what you enjoy? What is the point of seeing this landmark and going on that tour if the entire time you wish you were just doing nothing?
I suppose it is yet another application of sunk cost fallacy, this pressure to “make the most” of your vacation days, your travel days.
What does it really mean to make the most of something?
And one could say, well, if you are going to just sit and relax, then do it at home. Don't spend the money to go somewhere new, with new sights, just to not see them.
But here I have another argument.
New sights are, as they are named, new sights.
They do not have to be famous sights, rare sights, or sights that appear on Wikipedia and own several hundred reviews on Yelp.
They simply have to be new.
To sit in a cafe in Florence, listen to the buzz of a language I do not understand, look upon domed glass countertops filled with artful pastries, and walk upon cobblestone paths, is all new.
It may be common, and perhaps a rudimentary experience, but it is new, and it has its own value.
How can we determine if one experience is more valuable to us than another if they are both new?
It's not as if sightseeing is not enjoyable. I feel fulfilled after a day’s worth of walking, after feasting my eyes upon churches and chapels alike, even if I do not remember the names of a single one afterwards. My feet are sore and my skin is sticky, but I feel fulfilled and exhausted, and I sleep well.
I feel as if I have not wasted the day.
Perhaps that is reason enough to vacation in this frantic, checklist-chasing way; so that I do not feel that I have missed out.
Or perhaps there is a balance to be struck.
Perhaps I want at least one day with no itinerary, and that would be enough.
But that one day is something I do not have right now. I most likely will not have it until I travel on my own, or with someone who shares this desire for a trip with no itinerary, at least for one day.
In a place like this, like Italy, there is inspiration everywhere.
While a part of me is drained by all the sightseeing and tourist-acting, there is another part, perhaps the creative part or the lazy part, that is itching and hungry to turn all this inspiration into creation.
I do not know if I will ever come back. But if I do, I think I will have a different type of vacation.
There is no saying which is the right way to spend my vacation days, so for the future, I will just say to spend the days so that no part of me is left neglected, feeling unfulfilled.
