You know the feeling. You’re walking to the market, to the store, to meet a friend, all caught up in the plodding forward of your day…and then suddenly, you take notice of where you are. The light on a wall, the expressions on people’s faces, the feeling of the weather. A distinct sense of place creeps over you, and for a moment you feel like a traveler.

I love this feeling. It is a relief to me; ah, I haven’t forgotten what I learned on the road. How to be fully present in a place.

But it’s rare at home. We tend to get used to our surroundings pretty quickly, especially if they’re surroundings we’ve grown up in or lived in for years. And this familiarity isn’t all bad—our brains, freed up from paying acute attention to the unknown, can focus on other things—writing, school, relationships, work, projects.

And yet sometimes, the desire (Overwhelming! Insatiable! Get me on a freaking bus to Belize!) for that novelty and spark of travel is overwhelming. Sometimes a sense of sadness creeps into the everyday—why can’t I see and feel this place like I’ve seen and felt so many other places traveling?

So this is a guide to traveling at home–taking “home” to be a place you’ve stuck around for a while and grown accustomed to. A guide to seeing it through a traveler’s eyes and bringing it back to life again.

Photo by sanjibm

Walk.

As simple as strolling out the front door into the great beyond. Pay attention to detail as you go. The way the light hits buildings, the noises and conversations drifting out of restaurants, the sky, the view.

Roam without concern for routes and take advantage of the fact that you know this place’s geography well. Wander into neighborhoods you don’t usually explore and examine them as if you were stumbling across them for the first time.

See a city from different angles—how does it look from the top of a hill? From the bottom? Walking from the west, or east? Sometimes, when I feel my senses have been numbed by walking the same old routes around Oaxaca, I cross the city and go way out east, where the city starts dipping into the valley.

Then I turn around and start walking back, this time with a view of the narrow parallel streets stretching before me, and the arched back of a purple mountain in the distance. It feels like a different city.

Sometimes all you need is a fresh point of view.

Be a tourist.

Even if you are living in a village buried deep in the Nepali highlands or in, say, Columbus, Ohio, there are places a tourist (even if he or she just happened to get stranded overnight there) would go in your area. Investigate as if you were planning a trip—where would you go, where would the tourist lit take you?

Go as if you know nothing about your hometown at all. Imagine the tourist destinations were your first impression of it. What would they reveal to you? How would you interpret them? What would you write home about them?

Duck into a restaurant nearby, order a local delicacy (buffalo wings? Wisconsin cheese curd? Spaghetti and meatballs? Chilaquiles?), and eat it as if the flavors were a revelation, an odd local phenomenon. Imagine all of it is giving you new information about where you are and what this place is like.

Photo by Humanoide

Be a host and a guide.

Sometimes the best way to yank yourself out of your own stale vision is to exploit the viewpoint of a novice. Perhaps “exploit” is a tad harsh: offer a couch, a good meal, a ride, a long conversation, local insight, and in exchange throw yourself behind the fresh perspective of your guest.

Couchsurfing is an excellent way to travel at home. The rush of traveling rubs off, and having to think like a traveler and act like a guide illuminates your hometown as you don’t usually see it. You may, like me, end up surprised at how much you take the local for granted once you actually get to show it off.

Having family or friends pop in for a visit can make you appreciate all the little things you love about your home, the little things that are so etched into the everyday that you no longer notice them. And it can bring the big things—the local attractions, the feel and vibe of your hometown—back into focus.

Look for new perspectives.

Unless you’re living in a tent buried deep somewhere in the Andes, there are bound to be at least a few people from a few different places in your area. Hit up Chinatown if you’re in a major city, practice your Spanish at a Mexican restaurant, volunteer at a shelter for refugees, or work with immigrants.

Hearing about the experiences of a foreigner or an immigrant in your hometown paints it in a whole different light. You may be surprised, as I was roaming through a Mexican grocery store in Columbus, at just how different the place you think you know so well looks from this perspective.

Photo by Geoff LMV

Love your public transport.

One thing I do when I need a sense of escape is hop on a bus. And then another. And another. No, I’m not fleeing to Guatemala, I’m just riding around. One public bus after another, bumping and jostling ‘round Oaxaca.

Maybe this is intense nostalgia for all the buses I took crossing South America, or maybe I’m just a big baby who loves the gentle rocking motions of moving vehicles, but I’m willing to guess that many travelers find something soothing about being in motion.

The familiar feeling of looking out the window, trying to put the pieces together, absorbing the scenery. The bus transports me out of my neurotic consciousness, my obsession with whatever I need to do that day and the next, and makes me feel like I’m traveling.

Travel, I think, should not merely be the act of getting way the hell out there into the Himalayas or hitchhiking your way across Borneo. It can be that—but it can, and I would argue should, also be a way of seeing.

Thinking of travel as a particular type of vision frees you from the obligation to go fleeing from one destination to another, and liberates you to rediscover the places you think you know so well.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION:

Need some more advice about planning an in-town vacation. Check out these seven steps!

Catch a cargo ship. Photo by Dave Minogue.

Lara and Tom are taking a 10 month trip around the world. . . without flying. You can do it, too—using the following lessons from the World In Slow Motion team as the how-to guide to get you started.

1. Plan your ocean crossings first (and well in advance!).

One of the first things Lara and Tom began investigating was how to cross the Pacific Ocean by ship. They discovered several tour operators who book passages on cargo ships; through these operators and their own Internet research, they came up with a plan.

They’d originally wanted to go from Asia to Central America, working their way up to the U.S. Shipping routes, however, follow international trade,and there aren’t many connections between certain places–for example, Shanghai and Tegucigalpa.

So they booked their passage from Hong Kong to Long Beach, and altered their route to do a loop down through the southwestern U.S all the way to Guatemala, then back up through Mexico to New Orleans and the East Coast of the U.S.

In planning an ocean crossing, you have to make a few executive decisions beforehand about departure or arrival points. If the Caribbean or Brazil are absolute musts on your RTW itinerary, you might need to nix a trip through Asia.

Keep in mind that certain routes are more popular than others, and as the number of passengers cargo ships can take is quite limited (usually topping off around 10), it’s important to book well in advance. The World In Slow Motion team recommends three to six months, depending on the route.

2. Know your public transport systems.

In Japan, it’s possible to purchase a rail pass which, while costly, allows one the freedom to travel almost anywhere in the country (in style!)

The Eurail pass and the USA Rail Pass (yes, this actually exists) also offer ways to save on large stretches of train travel.

Photo by Jennifer Feuchter.

Checking out these options beforehand helps both with route planning and saving money. It’s also a good idea to investigate the train/bus systems in particular countries. In China, for example, train tickets can only be bought from one’s departure city—that is, tickets leaving Beijing for Shanghai can only be bought in Beijing.

During holiday periods, trains will fill up beyond the grasp of human imagination. On popular routes, trains tend to be quite full all the time, and you might find that the only available seats are in “hard seat” (which is just what it sounds like) or standing classes.

Also, as most anyone who travels around the U.S knows, getting to certain places without a car can be quite an ordeal. What to do? Couchsurf, as Tom and Lara did ( in Elizabeth Taylor’s old house, no less), and use the power of Craig’s List and forums like Matador’s Travel Partner forum and Lonely Planet’s Thorn Tree in order to hook up with rideshares.

The WISM team had luck with Craig’s List and even ended up scoring a 600 mile ride from Phoenix to El Paso from an enthusiastic American swept up by the idea of their trip.

3. Beware the bureaucracy.

Traveling overland can come with more bureaucratic hassle than hopping from airport to airport. For one, there tend to be more visa difficulties. This is particularly true where the U.S of A is involved.

Lara and Tom found that they were not qualified for the British visa exemption if they arrived in the U.S by ship, so they had to go through the whole (lengthy and costly) tourist visa application process. Many countries have similar visa regulations that apply to overland (or sea) arrivals only.

Make sure you double check the fine print and verify you have your paperwork sorted out beforehand.

4. Be flexible, and don’t cave in.

There came a moment in Beijing when all the train tickets were sold out, and Lara and Tom thought, “Wouldn’t it be nice to fly?” They stuck it out and ended up appreciating their extra time in the capital and their ensuing cross-country train journeys.

The idea is to balance careful planning with the roll-with-the-punches attitude necessary to navigate the messier, more local, less systematic world of overland travel.

Cram your head, notebooks, and laptops full of info, make sure you jump through the necessary bureaucratic/logistical hoops ahead of time, and then allow yourself that inch (or two, or three) of flexibility to take advantage of what travel fate offers up.

5. Tell the world about your journey.

Photo by Jill

Start a blog, write an article, e-mail your friends and family… the more information about local, sustainable overland travel, the better, particularly at a time when jet fuel is guzzled like water and a transatlantic flight is, for many, akin to a quick drive around the block.

Etch out the local, regional details, the differences and continuities between places as you bump and jolt and glide over the Earth. Not only will sharing your experiences open up new possibilities for other travelers, it might also open some doors for you along your journey.

People want to be part of grand ventures they can relate to and believe in.

And most of all, savor the feel of traveling at a human speed, seeing, as Lara and Tom have done, the world in slow motion.

Follow Lara and Tom at World In Slow Motion.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

If your interest in slow traveling round the world has been piqued, check out a guide to traveling by cargo ship or some detailed advice about planning rail journeys.