Why I Keep Craving the Opposite of My Last Trip

For years, I thought I knew what kind of traveler I was.

I loved cities. I loved movement. I loved stepping outside my hotel and knowing there would be museums, restaurants, cafés, and neighborhoods waiting to be explored. Beaches never held my attention for long, and I certainly wouldn’t have described myself as an outdoorsy person.

So naturally, I assumed I was a city traveler.

I Thought I Was a City Traveler

The first time I questioned that assumption was during my South America trip.

Just two weeks earlier, I had been in Cairo. Like many of my trips, it had been fast-paced and filled with movement. There was traffic, noise, constant activity, and the energy that comes with exploring a major city for the first time.

Cairo is a bucket-list destination for a lot of people, myself and my family included. We didn’t know if we’d ever have the opportunity to return, so naturally we wanted to experience as much as possible. I think many travelers can relate to that feeling. When you’ve traveled halfway around the world to reach a destination, it’s hard not to try to fit everything in.

Then I landed in Buenos Aires.

Now, let me be clear: I loved Buenos Aires. It’s one of the great cities of South America, and I’ll be sharing much more about that trip in a future series.

But after only two days there, I found myself surprisingly excited for my next stop: El Calafate.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Looking back, I think I was already craving something different.

I had gone from one large city directly into another, and what sounded appealing wasn’t another museum, another neighborhood, or another packed itinerary. It was the idea of slowing down.

When I arrived in El Calafate, I immediately felt it.

The pace was different. The landscapes took center stage. Instead of constantly moving, I found myself standing still and taking it all in.

I could have spent an entire day at Perito Moreno Glacier. In fact, if the park had opened earlier and closed later, I probably would have.

What I remember most, though, was wishing I hadn’t booked a tour with a fixed return time. For the first time, I found myself wanting the freedom to stay longer, revisit viewpoints, and move at my own pace.

Looking back, that may have been the moment I started building extra time into my itineraries. Not because I wanted to see more, but because I wanted more time to appreciate what I was already seeing.

As the trip continued, I noticed the pattern repeating itself. Although I often flew into major cities and capital cities, I kept gravitating toward experiences that got me outside of them.

In Chile, one of my favorite days ended up being a trip to Cajón del Maipo. I didn’t know much about it beforehand beyond a few photos I had seen online, but the idea of spending a day surrounded by mountains and valleys sounded exactly right. In Ecuador, I found myself drawn toward volcanoes and mountain landscapes. In Uruguay, some of my favorite moments involved simply walking along the water.

The strange part was that only a few years earlier I would have told you nature wasn’t really my thing.

Yet there I was, spending hours staring at a glacier, seeking out mountain landscapes, and wishing I had more time.

Travel was showing me something about myself that I hadn’t figured out at home.

Every Trip Creates the Next One

A few months later, the cycle repeated itself.

After spending several weeks traveling through Central America, particularly Costa Rica, I found myself longing for Europe. Not because I wasn’t enjoying the trip, but because I was craving something different.

Costa Rica is beautiful, but moving around the country requires effort. I remember sitting on yet another three-hour shuttle ride and realizing that while I was enjoying the trip, I was also ready for a different style of travel.

I wanted trains.

I wanted compact cities.

I wanted the ability to change plans on a whim without constantly thinking about transportation.

It wasn’t that Costa Rica was the wrong trip. It was exactly the trip I wanted at the time.

It simply helped me realize what I wanted next.

So that’s exactly what I did.

A few months later, I found myself traveling through Central Europe.

The goal was simple. Once I landed in Warsaw, I didn’t want to board another flight until I reached Amsterdam. I wanted to move through the region entirely by train, slowly making my way west through cities and countries I had never explored before.

And for a while, it was exactly what I had been craving.

Warsaw, Kraków, Bratislava, Graz, Ljubljana, Zagreb, Split, Dubrovnik, and finally Amsterdam.

I loved the movement. I loved the variety. I loved being able to wake up in one country and fall asleep in another.

But what stood out to me most wasn’t that I had stopped enjoying cities. It was that I had started appreciating the moments between them just as much.

Some of my favorite memories from that trip weren’t necessarily the famous attractions. They were the slower moments: walking around Lake Bled, exploring the Croatian coastline, and spending a day in Utrecht with absolutely no agenda.

After weeks of moving every few days, there was something refreshing about arriving somewhere and simply seeing where the day took me. No timed tickets. No checklist. No attraction I felt obligated to visit.

Just a city, a few hours, and the freedom to explore.

And that’s when I finally realized what was happening.

Every trip seemed to create a craving for its opposite.

After cities, I wanted nature. After nature, I wanted trains, walkable neighborhoods, and the ability to move easily between destinations. After weeks of movement, I wanted to slow down. And after slowing down, I found myself looking for movement again.

What started as a simple observation gradually became one of the most useful things I’ve learned about how I travel. The trip I enjoy most isn’t necessarily the one I should repeat next.

Sometimes the best way to choose a destination isn’t by asking what I enjoyed last time. It’s by asking what I feel like I’m missing now.

That’s how a glacier led me toward cities. How weeks of shuttle rides made me miss train stations. How Central Europe’s cities made me appreciate lakes, coastlines, and slower days. And how Spain reminded me that I don’t actually have to choose between them.

Travel Changed What I Thought I Enjoyed

Then came Spain.

Spain gave me beautiful cities, incredible food, architecture, history, and the chance to travel with my family.

Yet when I look back on that trip, one of my favorite parts wasn’t Madrid or Barcelona.

It was Costa Brava.

The coastal scenery, the slower pace, and the balance between activity and relaxation felt like the perfect complement to the cities. A few years ago, I probably would have planned the entire trip around urban destinations. Now I find myself looking for both.

For years, I thought travel was about finding destinations I liked. Now I think it’s just as much about discovering experiences I like.

One of the reasons I enjoy spending several days in a destination is that it gives me room to experiment. I can visit the city I came for, but I can also take a day trip, try a different activity, or explore something that normally wouldn’t make it onto my itinerary.

I’ll probably never be someone who sleeps in a tent for a week. But would I spend a day hiking? Absolutely. Would I climb a volcano? Sure.

A few years ago, I probably would have dismissed both without much thought. Now I’m far more willing to try something simply because I’m curious about it.

Travel gives us a chance to experiment with relatively little commitment. Sometimes it’s ordering a dish you’ve never had before. Sometimes it’s adding a destination you’re uncertain about. Sometimes it’s taking your first solo trip.

And sometimes it’s discovering that the thing you thought wasn’t for you ends up becoming one of the highlights of the trip.

That realization hit me again recently while sorting through photos from Croatia.

Looking at my photos of Split, I wasn’t thinking about what I had done there. I was thinking about everything I hadn’t done.

More time exploring Diocletian’s Palace. Another afternoon wandering through Marjan Hill. Another sunset by the water. Another day discovering parts of the city I never made it to.

The places that stay with me most aren’t the places I feel finished with.

They’re the places that leave me wanting more.

Curiosity Matters More Than Labels

That’s why I no longer spend much time trying to define what kind of traveler I am.

A city traveler. A nature traveler. A solo traveler. An adventure traveler.

The labels matter less than the curiosity.

Because every time I think I’ve figured out exactly what I enjoy, travel finds a way to prove me wrong.

And honestly, that’s one of the reasons I keep coming back.

Not just to destinations.

But to travel itself.