Collect Moments, Not Things: My Favorite Memories From 30+ Countries

If I’ve learned anything from a life of travel, it’s this: the most precious souvenirs aren’t the ones you bring home in your suitcase. They’re the moments that etch themselves into your heart forever.

There are the obvious showstoppers I’ll never forget: like the time I watched the sunrise over the valley of the kings in Egypt from a hot air balloon, witnessing the summit of Mount Everest from an airplane, or seeing elephants cross the road right in front of our safari jeep in Kenya, their presence and grandeur so humbling it left me speechless. Those are the life-changing moments, the ones that change your idea of scale and your sense of what’s possible.

But the memories I reach for most aren’t always grand. They’re small and deeply human. The family in a small village in Croatia who welcomed us into their home for a home-cooked traditional Croatian lunch, the night I shared stories with strangers-turned-friends over dinner in Portugal, or the lifelong friends from Canada that I met while in Kenya who invited me to Toronto to ring in the New Year. These connections are the memories that stitch a place to your heart.

Things break, trends fade, and baggage limits are real. Moments, though, appreciate with time. They become stories, and stories become the family folklore you pass around holiday tables. When I look back on my travels to 30+ countries, the purchases blur together, but the heart-warming feelings remain vivid. That is the return on investment that keeps paying dividends. I’ve never once had a regret about the money I spent on a trip, but I have come to regret not taking the opportunity to travel to a new place or experience a different culture.

You don’t need a once-in-a-lifetime budget to build a treasure chest of memories. You need connection and intentionality. Try these simple practices:
• Build breathing room into your itinerary. Leave space between activities so serendipity can find you.
• Choose one “anchor experience” per day, then let everything else be a bonus.
• Learn five phrases in the local language; your effort opens doors you didn’t know were there.
• Book a food tour or cooking class early in the trip; you’ll gain context and favorite spots to revisit.
• Go where the locals live, morning markets, neighborhood parks, sunset promenades.
• Keep a tiny note in your phone titled “today’s moment” and add one memory before bed. You’ll be amazed by what accumulates.

Memories are multisensory. Pause and ask: What do I smell right now? What colors are around me? What sound would I miss if I left? In Italy, it was the smell of fresh dough used to make delicious homemade pizza pies every day. In Denmark, it was the fascinating sounds of people speaking Danish all around me and picturing what life must have been like 1000 years ago. In Ireland, it was the crisp air over the Cliffs of Moher that felt like fuel to my lungs every time I inhaled.

Paying attention turns seconds into souvenirs. If you travel with limitations, you can still collect a lifetime of adventure, I promise. My body has required canes, wheelchairs, and creative planning, yet it’s delivered me to some of the most beautiful experiences of my life. That contrast has taught me to notice joy in all the little moments and to never take anything for granted.

On your next trip, try buying fewer things and noticing more around you. Let curiosity tug you down the side streets. Choose the seat by the window. Linger longer than it makes sense. Ask your tour guide a personal question. Spark up conversation with the local next to you on the train. Then bring those stories home and share them, because when we experience the world and tell others about it, we create a bridge between cultures. 

This is the kind of travel I design for clients: itineraries filled with experiences that keep on giving. Because at the end of the day, it’s not the things that matter. It’s the moments you collect across a lifetime and the stories you’ll have to pass down through generations.