Before The Evening Begins

One of my favorite parts of traveling happens before I ever leave the hotel room.

Not dinner.

Not wandering through a new city.

Not whatever adventure waits outside.

Getting ready.

I didn't realize how much I loved that ritual until I started traveling more often.

Some people love airports.

Some people love checking into beautiful hotels.

For me, it's the quiet hour before the evening begins.

Every Hotel Room Becomes Familiar In Its Own Way

Within a few minutes, every room starts looking a little like mine.

The suitcase opens.

The makeup bag finds its place on the bathroom counter.

Music starts playing from my phone.

The curtains get pulled open if the light is good.

A dress hangs from the closet door while I decide on shoes.

For a little while, every hotel room becomes a tiny dressing room somewhere in the world.

I love that.

I Love The Anticipation Of It

Getting ready always feels like standing on the edge of possibility.

You have no idea how the evening is going to unfold.

Maybe dinner becomes one of your favorite meals of the trip.

Maybe you wander into a little wine bar you never planned to find.

Maybe you walk for hours because the city is too beautiful to leave.

Or maybe it's simply an ordinary evening.

At that point, anything is still possible.

I think that's what I love most.

Hotel Rooms Have Their Own Quiet Atmosphere

The shower running.

Golden light coming through the window.

The soft hum of air conditioning.

A suitcase that's never quite unpacked.

Jewelry spread across the desk because there isn't enough space in the bathroom.

The bathroom counter somehow becoming cluttered within five minutes.

Those small moments have become part of traveling for me just as much as the destinations themselves.

Music Always Sounds Better

I don't know why.

Maybe it's because every playlist becomes attached to a place.

A song reminds me of getting ready before dinner in Santorini.

Another immediately brings me back to a rainy evening in Montreal.

Sometimes I hear a song years later and remember the hotel room before I remember the city.

Memory works in strange ways.

Perfume Is Always The Last Step

Right before I leave, I spray perfume.

Pick up my room key.

Take one last look to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.

Then I open the door.

That moment has become its own little ceremony.

The day is over.

The night hasn't started yet.

Everything that happens next is still waiting.

Some Of My Favorite Memories Begin Before I Ever Leave

Doing my makeup while the sun disappeared behind the caldera in Santorini.

Curling my hair before dinner in Rome with church bells echoing outside the window.

Sitting on the floor of a tiny hotel room because the mirror was better there than in the bathroom.

Getting ready in hostel bathrooms years ago while someone else played music from a bunk bed across the room.

None of those moments were remarkable.

They're simply small pieces of travel that somehow stayed with me.

I Think I'll Always Love Getting Ready Before Dinner

Not because I need to look perfect.

Because I love the pause.

The quiet transition between a day of exploring and whatever the evening becomes.

The music.

The perfume.

The anticipation.

For a little while, the hotel room belongs entirely to me.

Then I open the door and step back into the city.