Lately, I’ve been reading all of the introductory essays in the Best American Travel Writing series, and I’ve noticed a recurring theme: storytelling. That seems like a “well duh” theme, but series editor Jason Wilson and the guest editors hit home the same point year after year—specifically, great travel stories are just that, stories. Sure, one can read articles full of facts and figures, and that’s great if you’re memorizing them for a test, but in reality, how many of those facts and figures will you remember a year from now? I’d place a bet that you’d remember a story that ignites your senses more than one that rattles off trivia like counting sheep.   

So, how do we get to a place in our lives where a travel experience becomes more than a trip and one in which it becomes so much a part of us that we feel the need to share it with others?

In The Art of Travel, philosopher Alain de Botton may have the answer. De Botton—best know for his book How Proust Can Change Your Life—ruminates on why we travel and how we can make our travels more satisfying and memorable. The key, to him, is in the details, taking time to ask the questions of why and how about destinations. Instead of following a guidebook, for example, and letting it tell you what is important in a city and why it’s important, de Botton suggests that you step away from the common tourist flow and follow your own path.

“What, then, is a travelling mind-set?” de Botton asks. “Receptivity might be said to be its chief characteristic. Receptive, we approach new places with humility. We carry with us no rigid ideas about what is or is not interesting.”

To de Botton, “journeys are the midwives of thought.” Introspective time spent on a plane (or in a car or train) can open up the mind to new ideas that otherwise would have been blunted in everyday, working life. This reflection gives us time to formulate why we enjoyed our trip, or why we’re even taking one.

De Botton’s fascinating, philosophical book has caused me not only to be more mindful of my travels, but to explore why I enjoy travel stories and what I enjoy about them.

Upon contemplation, the travel articles that I enjoy are the ones that, as Wilson says, “transcend their chosen destinations.” I enjoy writers who “understand that a trip’s context is as important as the trip itself.”

In the 2002 Best American Travel Writing introduction, guest editor Frances Mayes wrote, “I found that what I remembered, what seemed to transcend topic and what affected me were not only essays with a grounded sense of place, but ones written in a highly personal voice.”  

This personal voice, though, can only be found with introspection, contemplation of what is going on around you, breaking down what your senses are registering and figuring out what they mean to you.

A good way of doing so is through writing and telling stories. Sharing with others your experience not only entertains, but makes you more aware of what you’re sharing. You may self-censor a story, because you don’t think others will find it interesting. That is when you should stop and ask, “Why don’t I find this interesting?” Only then can you begin to enjoy the art of traveling (and the art of storytelling) for what it really is—a journey of self discovery.