The Strange Season of Not-Here, Not-There
I thought a year of travel would make me appreciate home more. Instead, I came back to the same house, the same city, the same life—and realized I wasn’t quite the same person living in it.
Benthall Slow Travel
For people who suspect there's more life available than modern adulthood makes easy to reach. Weekly essays from the road... about slow travel, belonging, and participating more fully in the life you're already living.
Subscribe:.rss.atom.json.md.m3u.pls
Live Last read · last published · next check
Latest episodes
Maybe “Live Like a Local” Is the Wrong Goal
I thought every destination deserved the same version of me. Planning South America made me realize I was asking the wrong question.
The Day My Husband Became Henri
Somewhere in the south of France, my reserved English husband became "Henri"—a louder, bolder, more confident version of himself. At first it made me laugh. Then it made me rethink authenticity, language, and the places that bring different parts of us to life.
The First Time Filter: How to Choose Experiences That Actually Stay With You
Not everything new is worth carrying forward
Your Life Deserves a Strategy Session
We thought we were planning an early retirement. Looking back, we were doing something much bigger. This is the story of how Nigel and I learned to redesign a life instead of simply inheriting one.
The Local Customs of Belonging
I thought there was one right way to be polished. Travel quietly proved there wasn’t.
I Learned to Pretend I Already Knew
I thought the smartest people were the ones who already knew. It took retirement to realize curiosity had been waiting underneath certainty all along.
The Dangerous Skill of Being the One Who Always Handles It
I wasn't pretending to be okay. I was pretending not to need anything.
The Capacity System: How We Keep Life Feeling Alive
Why some periods of life feel emotionally vivid — and others slowly flatten
The Weekly Agenda That Changed Our Retirement
We thought it was a spreadsheet. It turned out to be a record of what we valued, what we feared, and who we were slowly becoming.