I used to think the “best” part of travel was getting a deal. The cheaper flight. The smart hotel pick. The thrill of feeling like I outwitted the system. That still is a rush, but the longer I’ve been planning retirement travel—and test-driving what I actually want my days to feel like—the more I’ve realized something simple:

Slow travel isn’t my favorite because it’s cheaper. Slow travel is my favorite because it’s calmer. And for me (especially as a solo traveler), calm isn’t a luxury. It’s the point.

If you’re a retirement planner who loves the idea of travel… but you’re tired of rushed itineraries, jam-packed “must-do” lists, and vacations that require a vacation to recover from—this is for you.

This post is about the pace of slow travel: why it feels so good, and how to design a rhythm that’s actually sustainable.

Slow travel feels different (and it’s not just the length)

Traditional vacations can be more stressful than a normal week at home. It takes time and effort just to arrive. I often show up tired—sometimes needing a nap before I’m ready to explore—and then I feel that little sting of guilt because I’m supposed to “make the most of it.” For a lot of us, that turns into a checklist: every attraction, every highlight, every must-see. Then it’s time to move on… or head home… and somehow, we need another vacation to recover from the one we just took. You come home with photos, sure—but do you come home with that rested feeling? The joke around the office is that I come back with a “glow.” I work hard to keep that feeling for at least a few days after I’m back.

Slow travel is the opposite. It’s not “go-go-go.” It’s “settle in.” It feels like waking up and knowing where the coffee is. It feels like having one favorite walk that you do often enough to notice tiny changes—weather, people, seasonal food. It feels like you’re living somewhere (briefly), not always in transition or performing travel.

And in retirement—when the goal isn’t to cram life into weekends anymore—that difference matters.

Why pace matters in retirement (especially if you travel solo)

Retirement travel isn’t just “more trips.” It’s a lifestyle decision. And lifestyle decisions have to be livable. When you’re traveling solo, you also carry the mental load alone:

• You’re the navigator. Yes, I can read a map very well, but I do love my GPS!
• You’re the safety manager. Awareness and understanding of the surroundings keep us safe.
• You’re the decision-maker about everything!
• You’re the pup walker. Bobo has trained me to take a relatively long walk at about the same time every day.
• You’re the “what’s for dinner?” person every day. Sometimes that’s a simple peanut butter sandwich; other days, a nice diner meal.

That can be empowering. It can also be draining if you don’t build in a rhythm that supports you. Slow travel helps because it removes friction. It reduces constant choices. It gives your nervous system a chance to settle.

Slow travel isn’t about doing more for less—it’s about living better with less rush.

If that lands in your chest a little bit… keep going.

The Sustainable Pace Checklist (6 parts)

This is the simple framework I am using to design slow travel months that don’t turn into a frantic schedule with a longer timeline. It gives me breathing time while also providing for opportunities to get to those  “must see” museums or Halls of Fame.

1) Choose one “anchor neighborhood” (walkable basics)

Before I plan the fun stuff, I plan the basics.

That means picking a location where I can walk to at least a few essentials:

• coffee or breakfast option
• groceries
• a park or safe walking loop
• a pharmacy or convenience store (bonus)

I have a car and could easily jump in and drive for breakfast or errands, but this is what makes slow travel feel like life—not logistics. When your day-to-day needs are easy, everything else gets easier too.

2) Set 1–2 weekly anchors (museum day, market day, long walk)

Anchors are repeatable rituals. They shape my activities without pressure.

Examples:

• Wednesday = museum or “culture” day
• Saturday = market morning + simple lunch
• One weekday = long walk + podcast + early dinner

Anchors help you stop reinventing your week over and over. And they keep you from feeling like you’re “wasting” time—because you can see a gentle plan unfolding.

3) Build in one admin day (laundry, planning, errands)

This one is not glamorous. It’s also the reason slow travel works. Considering that I have always had an admin day in my life – working 5 days and weekends for everything else – it makes sense and allows for consistency.

Admin day is where I:

• do laundry without resentment
• restock groceries
• plan a couple of outings
• handle travel details (tickets, reservations, transit)

When you skip admin day, it doesn’t disappear. It just leaks into every day.

When you schedule it on purpose, you protect your calm.

4) Limit “big outing” days to 2–3 per week

Big outings are the days that take energy:

• long transit
• timed tickets
• tours
• anything with crowds and lines
• day trips

I aim for one or two per week. I’ll have to be super conscious of travel and activity time since I don’t want to leave Bobo alone for more than 5 or 6 hours at a stretch. It’s just a planning requirement, not a restriction.  

Slow travel isn’t lazy. It’s intentional.

5) Repeat what works (same café, same route, same grocery list)

This is the secret ingredient people don’t talk about enough.

Repetition is not boring—it’s stabilizing.

Pick one café you love and become a regular for a month.
Walk the same route enough that you stop thinking about it.
Buy the same simple groceries every week so meals are easy.

Repetition reduces decision fatigue. It helps me build comfort and a sense of community fast. And this is what makes my travel sustainable long-term.

6) Leave white space on purpose

White space is not “unused time.” It’s recovery, creativity, and room for life. I truly enjoy just “being” without the need to always “do” something. It is what allows me to participate in the other things in my life. That means this space is vital.

White space is:

• the afternoon you read because you feel like it
• the unexpected conversation
• the nap that resets your whole mood
• the day you wander with no plan

If my itinerary doesn’t include space, my body will demand it anyway—usually in the form of exhaustion or irritability.

So I build it in on purpose, and I don’t apologize for it.

What slow travel actually feels like (a calm exhale)

Here’s the part I wish more travel advice would say out loud:

Slow travel feels like you stop auditioning for your own trip.

I’m not trying to prove I did it “right.” I’m not measuring the worth of the day by how much I squeezed into it. That pressure to do it “right” is usually coming from me, not anyone else.

I’m not racing the clock. If I don’t get to it today, I’ll look at it another time. Really, unless it’s an appointment – most things will be there tomorrow.

I’m just living—somewhere else.

If you’re designing retirement travel, here is a powerful test-drive question:

Do I want a retirement that looks impressive… or one that feels peaceful?

I know my answer.

How to test-drive your slow travel pace before retirement

If you’re like me and not retired yet, you can still practice this.

Try a “slow travel weekend” in your own town or one nearby:

• Choose one neighborhood area (anchor)
• Pick 1 fun outing
• Add 1 admin/reset block
• Repeat one place twice (same café, same walk)
• Leave one half-day completely open

Pay attention to how you feel:

• Do you feel more settled?
• More present?
• Less depleted?

That’s data. And retirement planning is better when it includes real-life data—not just dreamy ideas. So instead of planning a “perfect” trip, I plan a pace I can actually live in.

Your next step (and a question)

If you want to go deeper on the planning side, my next recommended read is Baseline First—because the pace only works if the lifestyle works on paper too.

👉 Next: “Baseline First” (Retirement Travel Planning Starts Here)

And I’d love to hear from you:

If you could slow travel anywhere for 30 days, where would you go first?

Wherever you choose, I hope you give yourself permission to travel in a way that feels good in your body—not just impressive on paper. I’ll be reading the comments and borrowing ideas, so don’t be shy.