There’s a particular feeling that comes over you when you travel—a softening, an expansion, a sense of spacious presence. You’re not rushing. You’re noticing. You’re a little more open, a little more alive. You feel inspired—by a dish, by a design, by a discovery.

And then… you return home.

But what if you didn’t leave that expansive, creative feeling behind?

Here’s how to bring the vacation feeling home—and keep it close.

Start with the Senses

Nothing evokes the memory of a place more than an aroma. I’ve brought home the scent of the Faena in Buenos Aires, the Palazzo Venart in Venice, and the Grand Hotel Tremezzo on Lake Como. Music works too—certain sounds feel tied to time zones, languages, and light.

• Savor local flavors from your favorite destination—cook a beloved dish or order from a regional restaurant.
• Use bath salts, soaps, or a candle that recalls the fragrance of your hotel or a defining moment.
• Curate a playlist of music from your trip or one that echoes its mood—sun-drenched jazz, quiet strings, coastal guitar.

Turn Down the Day

This idea came from a travel industry colleague. An hour or so before I retire, I’ll go to my bedroom and do for myself what the best hotels do—create a sense of arrival.

• Do your own turndown service: draw the curtains, turn down the thermostat, dim the lights, light a candle, smooth your linens, place your book on the pillow. Add a square of dark chocolate or a spritz of lavender on your sheets.
• Set a carafe of water and a soft cloth beside your bed, just as they would at your favorite suite.
• Make your bed each morning as if you were trained at École Hôtelière de Lausanne, Switzerland’s world-renowned hospitality school.

Be a Traveler at Home

I’m fortunate to live in Washington, D.C., where the depth and breadth of discovery runs deep. I’ve lived here for nearly four decades, and there’s still so much more to explore. I keep a running “wonderlist” so I’m never out of options. You don’t need a boarding pass to feel transported—just a sense of curiosity about exactly where you are.

• Seek out something new in your neighborhood—a tucked-away café, a local gallery, a guided walking tour.
• Catch a sunrise or sunset as if it were the first time.
• Bring your camera on an everyday walk and look at your city with the curiosity of a visitor.
• Buy a museum membership and treat it like a second living room.
• Try a new route home—and notice what surprises you.

Connect with Others

One of travel’s greatest gifts is the way it invites connection. You talk to strangers. You open up. You listen. But once home, we often slip into a kind of protected solitude. Disconnection is easy—but so is its opposite.

• Say hello to someone new. Ask where strangers where they’re from.
• Invite a friend over for aperitivo hour—no phones, just presence.
• Host a gathering in your home, just because you want to.
• Write postcards to people you love. Stamp, send, repeat.

Make Time Feel Luxurious

When I build itineraries, I always leave room for rest, spontaneity, and the unexpected. That same kind of space also belongs in our everyday lives.

• Keep a short daily journal—one line about what moved you or what you noticed.
• Set a boundary around your workday. Let space—not stress—shape your schedule.
• Take one day each week off from planning, producing, and striving. Wander instead.
• Create a ritual for transitions—such as savoring tea at dusk, taking a bath before bed, or going for a morning walk without your phone. I’ve programmed my Alexa to chime in every weekday at 5:00 p.m., in a perfectly posh British accent: “Cassandra, do you think it’s tea time? I think it is!” Even if I don’t leave my desk, it never fails to make me smile.

A Few More Touches of Travel Magic

• Replace your worn pajamas with a set that evokes the ambiance of your favorite hotel stay.
• Watch a film set in a place you love—or long to see.
• Read poetry or fiction from a country you’ve visited.
• Hang a favorite photo from a trip in a place you’ll see it often.
• Display a small object from your travels—a stone, a seashell, a subway ticket—as a quiet reminder.

You don’t need to board a plane to feel transported. Or expansive with a sense of possibility.

You need to remind yourself to stay curious, engaged, nurtured—even at home.

Travel isn’t just about where you go. It’s about how you see, how you slow down, and how you feel.