Magic in the Mundane

Traveling by foot allows you time to see and feel life with all the senses. My favorite travel moments are those when something small and everyday revealed an unexpected kind of beauty - a quiet magic I might have missed if I hadn’t slowed down. Those rare incidences that remind us that magical realism is not such a fanciful concept.

There was this one day when I was walking through a market in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico when a huge gust of wind blew this man's “Panama-style” hat straight off his head! He started chasing after it as it bounced off the pavement, rolling down the busy market street. That’s when a middle-aged woman, clutching a colorful Mexican bag overflowing with veggies, catches sight of the flying hat and the man struggling to catch up and decides to join the chase!

Ultimately, the game ends when a fruit vendor uses his foot to stop the runaway hat. He picks it up, a bit squished, and hands it over to the woman who got there first. Then with a huge smile and looking like she was close to breaking out in laughter, she turns around and presents the coveted treasure to the rightful owner! They rejoice in the victory, say their salutations, and resume their previous daily tasks.

In my mind, the story unfolds further, tingling with the magic and mystery of Isabel Allende and Gabriel García Márquez. As the woman reaches out to hand the hat back to the man, their fingers brush for a fleeting moment - a spark that awakens a profound, unspoken recognition in both. In that instant, they know their meeting was destined. She is, in fact, his long-lost sister, torn from their family years ago by a ruthless drug cartel. Okay... well, maybe now I’m writing a full-blown telenovela!

I have experienced many “magic” moments like these during my travels. Once, I was walking around the streets near the bus station while I waited for my bus in San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico. Ahead of me, three Chiapan women in traditional dress whispered quietly to each other, exchanging amused glances and giggles as they watched three men weaving down the road. The men, clearly drunk, mumbled and shouted in rapid, nearly unintelligible Spanish, swaying and stumbling with every step. The women laughed warmly, clearly entertained as they gently steered their intoxicated husbands safely home!

US, and like 250,000 other humans, enjoying the sun and the Mediterranean one Sunday last summer in Ladispoli, Italy

Then there are times you see real life acted out on the public stage. Last summer, when the heat in Rome became unbearable, we ditched all our city plans and made a beeline for the nearest beach. In Ladispoli, we walked from beach club to beach club until we found a place that still had umbrellas available to rent. As we finally settled in and floated in the Mediterranean, we were mesmerized by how many occupied umbrellas lined the beach. It felt like we were sharing this particular beach moment with thousands upon thousands of other people!

We were lucky to acquire umbrellas and chairs smack dab in the heart of the beach club. As we lounged and read our books, a couple in front of us started speaking seriously in Italian. Though I couldn’t understand the words, it was clear they were having a fight! Without raising their voices, they went through the multiple stages of a lovers' argument unfazed by who could hear it. What fascinated me even more was that no one else around reacted. In many Western cultures, negative emotions like anger, frustration and sadness are often hidden away, something shameful to be dealt with in private. But watching this unfold in Italy, I realized how different it is here. Italians seem to embrace the full spectrum of human emotion openly, even when it’s messy and dramatic. It felt like a powerful, raw acceptance of what it means to be human.

Perhaps slow travel, most of all, allows us to open up enough to see and absorb a different existence than the one we currently are living. This different existence may not even require a new city to explore but only a new way of seeing the one you currently live in, one that unfolds in presence and in the deliberate pace of unhurried observation. It's in the linger, not the rush, that reality begins to shift.

What one gleans from this different existence, ultimately, will depend on the eyes of the beholder. It might become just another memory tucked away. Or it might quietly rewire our thoughts, unraveling old assumptions and softening the boundaries between self and other. Whatever form it takes, one thing is certain: it changes you.