This Changed Everything: The One Travel Habit That Took Me from Tourist to Insider
I’ve been fortunate to travel for years, sometimes solo, sometimes leading groups, often in between projects. I’ve passed through world-class airports and dusty border towns, five-star hotels and somewhat questionable hotels with paper-thin walls. I’ve learned that how you enter a place shapes everything: how people see you, how you see them, and how the memories land when it’s all over.
There was a time when I moved through cities trying to “do them justice.” You know the drill, search the best eats, check the “hidden gems,” cross off the must-see spots. But even when I did all of that, I’d leave feeling like I’ve just experienced the surface. Like I’d visited the place, but hadn’t actually been in it.
That started to shift the moment I gave myself permission to slow down and pay attention.
Not in a performative way. Not in a “be present” kind of way.
But just by noticing what a place does when it isn’t trying to impress you.
Here’s the habit:
I choose a single street, central, messy, quiet, doesn’t matter, and I walk it. No phone out. No plan. Just eyes open.
And I do it more than once. I start to see rhythms.
The woman who packs up her stall just after dark, wiping down each crate before loading them onto a trolley.
The way the lights from motorbikes streak across wet pavement.
The guy I buy fruit from, quiet at first, but by the third visit, he finally asks where I’m from.
What people wear to walk their dogs.
The way neighbours linger in doorways, not quite ready to call it a night.
It’s simple. But it’s the most honest way I’ve learned to understand a city.
If you travel often, or even just once in a while, here’s my advice:
Pick a street and make it yours for a few nights.
Don’t try to chase what makes the place special, let it show you.
Eat where the crowd gathers. Well, mostly locals in this case.
Sit alone in a public space and watch the pace.
Let repetition teach you something you’d never learn on a first glance.
I’ve done this in Bangkok’s alleyways and the backstreets of Istanbul.
In Zurich’s still, orderly neighbourhoods and Nairobi’s active nightlife.
And every time, it grounds me.
I start to understand how the city breathes, and that understanding sticks long after I’ve left. That’s the shift, from tourist to insider. Not because you “cracked the code,”
But because you chose to stay still long enough to be let in.
And that’s something no guidebook can offer…