Travel is a gift. It’s also a practice. I’ve been at it my whole life—at fifteen, in 2000, I traveled solo to Cuba with Global Exchange (a nonprofit that hosts experiential Reality Tours focused on people‑to‑people learning). A couple months into dating, my husband and I went to Mexico City, fell in love with the city and (let’s be honest) each other, and we’ve prioritized travel ever since. The more I go, the more little rituals I keep—habits that make the trip smoother, kinder, and a little more me. I’m the Creative Director at Tea Collection, so travel is both research and reminder: pay attention, keep your eyes soft, gather texture and color for later. It’s also family: our daughter’s first international trip was for a Tea photoshoot in Greece when she was just eight months old.
Here are the five things I always do on any trip—simple, repeatable rituals that keep me organized, present, and open to surprise.
1) Set up a shared Google Map
I always make a shared map with my co‑traveler before I leave. It’s basically our portable brain. I pin where we’re staying, the nearest coffee shop (okay, plural), and a running list of restaurants, markets, boutiques, museums, odd little side streets—anything I don’t want to miss out on.
A few things I do every time:
- Download the map for offline use. Patchy service? No problem.
- Add notes to pins. I jot why it’s on the map so future‑me remembers why it matters.
- Treat it like a souvenir. After the trip, I keep the pins I loved, add notes, and share the map with friends. Need a great map for Mexico City? I have one. Going to Istanbul? Yes. Rio de Janeiro? I got you. The only problem is that I probably have too many coffee shops on my maps… but then again, is that a problem?
That said, the best way to really know a place is to lift your head from your phone and wander. Get a little lost. Follow the smell of bread. Stay curious.
2) Practice basic greetings
I’m not fluent in every language, but I try to learn a few essentials: hello, please, thank you, good morning, excuse me, and “Where is…?” I always learn the basics—hello/thank you/goodbye—because the effort matters: Merhaba. Jambo. Yia sou. And I love the Google Translate app. The camera feature has saved me in more than a few restaurants (menus, signs, mystery sauces), and I’ve had whole conversations in the app. It has opened doors and made me braver about connecting. Numbers 1–10 help, too. Imperfect is fine; the effort is the point.
3) I never check a bag (if I can help it)
Controversial take: I hate checking bags. I want my things with me and I don’t want to wait at a carousel. When I land, I’m ready to go, go, go.
Traveling for Tea sometimes means hauling two or three 50‑lb suitcases of kids’ clothes and props (hi, carnet), but that’s all the more reason to keep my own stuff close. If the trip is longer than a week, I’ll do laundry. I have been known to bring four pairs of shoes on a seven‑day trip. (We contain multitudes.)
My usual setup: one large backpack‑duffel + a smaller backpack for under‑the‑seat things (tech, sketchbook, snacks, important toiletries). I also fold a lightweight duffel into my bag to bring home gifts. On the return flight I’m less precious about checking things in, so the extra bag becomes my souvenir lifeboat.
4) Visit a local grocery store and the market
This is a must. I want to know what people eat after work and what cereal boxes look like here. In Italy I learned not to touch the produce. In Mexico I met chapulines (yes, grasshoppers). In Brazil, I learned that the cashew “apple” (caju) is a thing—bright, juicy, sold fresh—while the cashew nut is just the seed hanging off the end. I love the packaging, trying a new snack or an easy local beer, and bringing back a pantry thing I’ll use later.
When we can, we stay somewhere with a small kitchen. It’s not about cooking elaborate meals, just the pleasure of making breakfast together or a simple dinner when we’re traveling with our daughter. Food is culture. Also: you can find the best souvenirs at markets!
5) The devil’s in the details
It’s not always about the postcard view. Some of my favorite photos are of signage and texture. (Designer brain, guilty.) Sometimes those details end up inspiring palettes and patterns back at Tea, but they also slow me down. Look longer. Look closer.
I also don’t always have my phone out. I carry my trusty Fujifilm X100‑series camera—unassuming, lightweight, and it takes beautiful pictures. I love that it feels more discreet than a phone. I might not have as many photos and videos immediately ready to share with all my IG followers (LOLOL), but I end up with images I feel more connected to. I put my eye to a viewfinder. I really saw what I was photographing. Not to get too philosophical, but choosing a camera over my phone has genuinely changed how I view the world.
I also try to be mindful about how I travel. Tourism changes places; sometimes in ways that flatten them. Before visiting Florence, I reached out to my friend Emiko Davies (chef, cookbook author, photographer) for recommendations. She’s written thoughtfully about overtourism and how to support the city’s real life, booking directly with small hotels or agriturismo, eating where locals actually eat, choosing experiences that aren’t designed only for us. When in doubt, find a local expert and ask how visitors can be good guests.
Travel with an open mind for adventure
You are a guest. Notice how people queue, greet, dress for dinner. Ask before you photograph people (art, pets, etc). Tip fairly where it’s customary, not performatively. And don’t be an jerk unless you’re in an unsafe situation, and then get out fast. The whole point is to be surprised, safely.
Travel is a gift. For me, it’s also a way of paying attention—to one another, and to the world I get to borrow for a little while.
