Actual trip

How to survive your dream vacation

Because travel isn't always perfect (and it doesn't have to be either)

In recent years, travel has become almost an emotional obligation. You have to do it. You have to show it. You have to live it as if it were a succession of perfect postcards. You travel for pleasure, for fashion, for necessity, for work or simply not to be left out. And of course, it is often presented as a dream. But it is not always a dream.

Travel is not just about packing a suitcase and leaving. When we imagine it, it's all excitement: perfect skies, epic landscapes, spectacular photos. But then... the real journey begins.

There are details that you don't think about when you imagine the trip: trains at five in the morning, soulless airports at midnight, eternal layovers where you end up sleeping in the fetal position on a backpack. Sometimes, what seemed like a weekend getaway turns into a 36-hour logistical marathon where time is diluted among lines, loudspeaker announcements and clocks that don't seem to move forward.

The little things are also heavy: walking light, yes, but with a backpack that we carry as if we were going to cross a continent. Sunscreen, aspirin, money, cards, a hat for the sun, a coat in case it gets cold... every good traveler knows that you have to dress in layers, like an onion. A small umbrella is never superfluous. Something to eat at any time. And the inevitable bottle of water.

And then there are the practical decisions: how much to spend, which activity to leave out, should everything be booked or should you go for the adventure? Reserving everything gives security, but takes away freedom. Going without reservations gives you vertigo, but sometimes it also gives you stories that you can later tell with pride (or with nervous laughter).

Traveling is a mix: excitement, tiredness, discomfort, unexpected beauty, annoyance, surprise. It demands energy, flexibility and more patience than likes on Instagram.

Traveling is not always pleasant. Sometimes it is exhausting, chaotic, uncomfortable or simply different from what we had imagined. But even so, we keep on doing it. Maybe because in the midst of exhaustion an image appears that takes our breath away. Or an unexpected conversation. Or the silence of a square at sunset.

Because even if it is not perfect, the journey moves us - outwardly and inwardly - it forces us to adapt, to relinquish control, to accept whatever comes our way. And perhaps it is in this lack of guarantees where its true charm lies. In that, beyond the itineraries or the full backpacks, the trip always changes us a little.

And when we finally get home, with wrinkled clothes, tired feet and a head full of loose scenes, we understand something else: that coming back is also part of the journey. That there is a serene beauty in heating water for a cup of tea, slowly unpacking the suitcase, and letting everything we have experienced decant in silence.

Because if traveling transforms us, the return accommodates us. And in that imperfect balance, something of us finds its place.