When I travel—especially alone—I slip into a totally different rhythm. I wake up early, walk for miles with no destination, follow a bakery’s scent, the lines outside of shops, or the sound of street music, and strike up conversations with strangers every chance I get. Curiosity becomes my compass.
Whether it’s a big city like New York, or a small village in Europe, I feel fully alive, open, untethered. But coming home has always meant immediately stepping back into routine—comfortable, familiar, a little dull. After my most recent trip, though, something shifted. After weeks on the road, I returned home without a longing to escape again. Instead, I had the desire to stay and see, really see, my city the way I see new ones.
Featured image by Michelle Nash.
How I’m Rediscovering My City with a Passport Mindset
I’m walking more. A lot more. Wandering. Eating solo at places I’ve always meant to try. Booking tickets to exhibits that sound interesting, no matter if I have a pal to join me. I’m letting the same spirit that makes me brave and expansive on the road also guide me back at home. I’m rediscovering my city not as a local, but as a traveler—one with roots and a fresh perspective. It’s been a powerful reframe to discover that the secret isn’t in where I go, but in how I show up.
Here are a few ways I’m exploring my own hometown:
The Coffee Walk
What started as a practical walk for coffee has become a cherished ritual. Every Sunday, I lace up my sneakers with my New York Times and set out on a five-mile walk to my favorite coffee shop—not because it’s the closest (it’s 2.5 miles away), but because the journey there feels like a treat.
I give myself the luxury of wandering a bit, window shopping, people-watching, or taking a different route just to see what’s changed. By the time I arrive, coffee in hand, I’ve already had a moment with the city—and with myself. It’s a small adventure, but one that reminds me I don’t have to be far away to feel grounded and present.
New Neighborhoods, New Eyes
Instead of looping the same streets, I now choose neighborhoods I’ve never explored or ones I’ve overlooked for years. I might plan my walk around a vintage store I’ve heard about or a taco truck someone recommended. Sometimes, I head out with no plan at all, letting curiosity guide me like it does when I travel. I’m constantly surprised by how much life and detail I’ve missed in my own backyard—colorful murals, tucked-away neighborhood gardens, and new to me pop-up shops. Exploring like a tourist in my own city has made it feel bigger, richer, more alive.
Museum Curiosity
I’ve always loved museums, but at home, I used to wait to go unless I had a reason, like a visiting friend, a date, or a special occasion. Now, I check museum calendars the way I’d look up events in a new city. I’ll see an exhibit opening or a panel conversation and carve out time to go, just because.
I wander through rooms slowly, not needing to explain my interest to anyone else. It’s become a form of solo travel in place—each museum or installation visit becomes a portal into another time, place, or perspective. It reminds me of how much there is to learn right where I am.
Embracing Solo Adventures
For a long time, I told myself certain things were better with company—trying a new restaurant, going to a gallery opening, walking into an unfamiliar space. But travel has taught me that doing things alone doesn’t mean doing them lonely. In fact, solo experiences often bring more freedom, more connection with strangers, and more alignment with what I actually want.
So now, I go, even if no one’s free. I take myself out, just like I would in Paris or Amsterdam or New York. And in doing so, I’m not missing out—I’m actually showing up more fully for my life. I’ve been amazed by how many others are doing this, too. It’s refreshing. I can’t stress how great it feels to not wait around for someone else to experience the things I want in life.
Seeing My City Through My Friends’ Eyes
I’m a big fan of crowd-sourcing, so I’ve started asking friends, “If you were planning the perfect day in Austin—where would we go?” Their answers never disappoint. Seeing the city through someone else’s lens helps break me out of my patterns and reminds me that discovery doesn’t always have to come from within. It’s been a great way to spark spontaneous hangs, get to know my friends a little better, and enjoy a few solo days inspired by the people I love.
I can’t stress how great it feels to not wait around for someone else to experience the things I want in life.
Making a Bucket List—and Actually Using It
I’ve always been the kind of person who researches a new city to death before I visit. I book restaurants, research shops, hikes, where to get the best cold brew, read NYT’s 36 Hours, and scour websites like it’s my job. But I rarely give my own city of Austin that kind of attention, especially after 15 years of living here.
So I’ve started making an “Austin bucket list,” in my Notes app, full of places I’ve wanted to try, things I’ve heard about, and experiences I’ve been saving for “someday.” When I have a free afternoon or an open weekend, I pick something from the list—almost at random—to avoid getting stuck in my spiral of indecision. It’s a way to bring novelty and spontaneity back into the everyday, and honestly, it makes life feel a little more cinematic. Like I’m starring in my own travel montage, only this time, the backdrop is home.
Now if I could only give some of those outfits in my closet the same consideration and stop waiting for the perfect moment to wear them, I’d be golden! Baby steps…
