How [not] to keep a travel journal (Writing Tip #2)

🇫🇷 I have the best of intentions. I purchase a new notebook. Then, crickets.

The words “travel journal” conjure up a delightful image of a worn notebook, perhaps a Leuchtturm with dotted pages, all filled with astute passages and hand-drawn scenes. I picture myself sketching old stone buildings or a scudding river even though my drawing ability is, embarrassingly, that of a five-year-old. I fill in the space around the drawings with well-chosen words that describe the scene, the situation, my state of mind, my travel partner — the meaning of it all. Maybe I even write a few words in French.

This is NOT my journal.

But the travel journal didn’t happen on my recent three-week trip to France. And to be honest, it almost never happens. Even though, at this stage in my life, I realize that any given trip to a far flung destination could very well be my last. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a written record in a beautiful notebook?

The answer, of course, is yes. As a writer, I am all in favor of keeping a journal. It’s a foolproof way to get down a first draft, whether it’s the stuff in your head for Morning Pages or an attempt to work out what you’re trying to say, even if it comes out as word salad. So, why can’t I keep a travel journal? (Don’t worry, I’ll tell you what I do instead.)

What is the purpose of a travel journal?

It’s a wonderful thing to do, no question, for both practical and sentimental reasons. It’s your souvenir scrapbook and a future travel guide. It’s a place to record impressions for a future writing project. Here’s where you build a trove of new sensations of sight, sound and smell. Surely you will draw on them later; otherwise you’ll forget!

But I’ve got a problem with that approach. For one, I'm 71, and if I’ve just flown across an OCEAN, my brain functions differently. I have an insatiable desire for espresso (what the French call “un café”) and a freshly baked croissant to go with it. I'm jet lagged and I swear it gets worse with age. I'm not thinking about creating a souvenir for my future self or a travel guide for a friend. I'm thinking about how early I can go to bed without embarrassing myself. Is 7:30 pm too early??

I’m in a frame of mind where I want to see and taste and hear right now, then process later. I’m in the moment, trying to stay awake. No way can I distance myself enough from the experience to write about it.

Two options besides travel journaling

Take pictures

My solution to the sensory onslaught of travel, alongside the desire to create a record, is to take photos. I like to capture early morning or late afternoon light, shadows and angles of buildings as I walk down narrow alleys, an unexpected image of a tourist landmark. Perhaps it’s my lizard brain that is drawn to do this. It’s easy and quick, but (I like to think) it also takes discernment to notice what will make a great photo. 

Here’s one of my snaps from Nov. 23, 2023 in Paris. It’s a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower through a window of the Hôtel de Talleyrand, an 18th century building, newly-restored, that is part of the U.S. Embassy.

Keep a daily diary, one line at a time

My favorite secret weapon for capturing the high or low points of a day of travel, or an ordinary day is this: a daily diary where each entry is just one line.

With 2023 coming to a close, I’m finishing Year 4 of my one line per day Five-Year Diary.

Around the time the pandemic started in early 2020, I began keeping a one-line-a-day five-year diary. I’m not sure why I started it then but once I got going, I couldn’t stop. I’m now finishing Year 4, with only one year to go to complete the book. It’s nothing special. (I use this One Line a Day five-year memory book.)

It’s become a routine as sacred as flossing my teeth (yes, every night!). I can’t go to sleep unless I’ve jotted something down in my diary. I always include what city or town I’m in, what the weather is, a very brief reference to what I “accomplished” that day, perhaps mention of who I had an interesting conversation with, what Sam cooked for dinner or what restaurant we went to, and (this is slightly embarrassing but true), what Netflix series we are watching.

Sometimes I include a number on the scale of 1 to 10 (very bad to very good), to express my mood. As I fall into occasional bouts of depression, it’s useful to see when this happens and how I rated those days.

Keeping a daily diary sounds very mundane; no creativity required and certainly no writing skill. But it serves as a reference point. The magic is looking back on that exact same day two or three years ago: Where was I? What was I doing? What is different? The same? Maybe that’s enough to prompt deeper thoughts about the meaning of it all.

Is this enough for travel journaling? For me it is, because I actually do it. There’s something about consistency – and an unbroken streak of days – that I find both reassuring and inspiring.

Have you ever successfully kept a travel journal? What about a daily diary?

I’d love to hear in the comments.

Addendum: here’s a wonderful article about journaling by

Katherine May

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How to keep a writer’s notebook