Out Travel Aspirations for 2025: Three Journeys of the Soul
The beauty of travel lies not just in the destinations we check off our list, but in how these places change us. As I sit here planning our adventures for the remainder of 2025, I find myself drawn not to the whirlwind tours we once favored, but to experiences that promise deeper connection and personal transformation. Today, we are sharing the three journeys calling to our soul this year—each offering a different pace, challenge, and cultural immersion that Ange and I are eager to embrace.
Slow Travel Through Vietnam
Vietnam has always held a special place in our hearts. Our first visit was 2 years ago, but separately was the typical backpacker route—zooming from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City in just two weeks, cramming in as many sights as possible. While those memories are treasured, I’ve always felt we merely skimmed the surface of this complex, beautiful country.
This November, we’re returning with a different approach. Instead of trying to see everything, we’re spending an entire month in Vietnam. In regions we completely missed on our first trip. We’ve rented a small apartment in Danang as our base, from which we’ll take our time exploring the surrounding villages, coffee plantations, and mountain landscapes.
I’m particularly excited about connecting with Vietnam’s ethnic minority communities, like the K’Ho people known for their traditional weaving techniques. Ange has arranged for us to spend several days learning from local artisans, something that would have been impossible during our previous whirlwind tour.
The slow travel philosophy means we’ll sometimes spend entire days in one place—perhaps sitting at the same café watching city life unfold, or hiking the same trail at different times of day to observe how the light transforms the landscape. There’s a certain luxury in this approach, in giving ourselves permission to truly absorb rather than constantly consume new experiences.
“But won’t you get bored?” a friend recently asked. I don’t think so. When you remove the pressure to see everything, you create space for genuine connection and unexpected discoveries. I’m looking forward to becoming a regular at local markets, learning to recognize the various herbs essential to Vietnamese cuisine, and perhaps even developing enough language skills to have simple conversations beyond tourist phrases.
This trip isn’t about collecting photos of famous landmarks—it’s about developing a relationship with a place and its people. Slow travel in Vietnam feels like the perfect antidote to our often-hurried lives.
Walking the Camino de Santiago: A Journey of 500 Miles
For years, the Camino de Santiago has whispered to me from the edges of my travel dreams. There’s something powerfully compelling about the idea of making a pilgrimage on foot—following ancient paths that millions have walked before, carrying only what you need on your back, and moving through the world at human speed.
Hopefully one day, Ange and I will finally answer this call. We’ve chosen the Camino Francés route, beginning in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in France and walking approximately 500 miles across northern Spain to reach Santiago de Compostela. Most pilgrims complete this journey in about 30-35 days, but we’ve set aside six weeks to allow for rest days and deeper exploration of places that speak to us.
The preparation alone has become a journey of its own. We’ve been gradually increasing our daily walking distances, breaking in hiking boots, and testing various gear configurations. Ange teases me about my spreadsheets detailing the weight of each item in our packs—but when you’re carrying everything you need for over a month, every ounce matters!
What draws me to the Camino isn’t just the religious devotion (though I respect the spiritual significance it holds for many), but rather the unique community that forms among pilgrims and the opportunity for both outward and inward exploration. I’m curious about how the rhythm of walking 12-15 miles each day will affect my perspective, and how disconnecting from our digital lives might create space for deeper conversation and reflection.
There’s also something appealingly simple about having each day’s primary goal be reaching the next town. No complicated itineraries, no rushing to beat closing times at attractions—just the meditative act of putting one foot in front of the other. In our hyper-scheduled lives, this strikes me as a radical form of freedom.
I expect blisters, rain-soaked days, and moments of questioning our sanity—but also sunrise-painted landscapes, conversations with fellow travelers from around the world, and the profound satisfaction of reaching the Cathedral of Santiago under our own power. Some journeys are measured not in miles but in transformation, and I suspect the Camino will be one of these.
Winter Wonder: China's Harbin Ice Festival
Not all meaningful travel experiences require months of slow immersion. Sometimes a brief but intense cultural experience can be equally impactful—which brings me to our plans to visit the Harbin International Ice and Snow Sculpture Festival in northeastern China.
I first glimpsed photos of Harbin’s ice sculptures years ago and was immediately captivated by these ephemeral creations—entire buildings and intricate art pieces carved from ice and illuminated with colorful lights. The scale is almost impossible to comprehend: massive structures reaching heights of 20-30 meters, entire city blocks transformed into glittering wonderlands, and sculptures so detailed they seem to defy the properties of their frozen medium.
While this will be a shorter trip (about a week total), we’re approaching it with the same mindfulness that guides our other travel plans. Rather than treating the festival as a quick photo opportunity, we’ve arranged to spend time with local sculptors to learn about their techniques and the cultural significance of specific designs.
Harbin itself fascinates me with its unique blend of Chinese and Russian influences, visible in its architecture, cuisine, and cultural practices. The city’s history as a hub along the Chinese Eastern Railway created a distinctive cultural fusion that persists today. We’ve scheduled several food tours to explore these culinary traditions—though Ange remains skeptical about how many outdoor meals we’ll manage in temperatures that routinely plunge to -30°F!
There’s something philosophically beautiful about traveling to see art forms that are inherently temporary. These magnificent ice structures will exist for only a few months before melting away in spring—a powerful reminder of impermanence and the value of experiencing beauty in its moment.
The extremity of the climate also appeals to me. As someone who’s spent most of my life in moderate climates, the chance to experience such intense cold feels like an adventure in itself. We’ve been carefully researching appropriate clothing and equipment because, as the Scandinavians say, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.”
The Common Thread
Looking at these three very different travel aspirations, I realize they share a common thread: each offers a form of immersion that challenges not just where we go, but how we experience the world. Whether it’s slowing down in Vietnam, making a pilgrimage across Spain, or embracing the extreme wonder of Harbin’s winter festival, these journeys promise to engage all our senses and push us beyond our comfortable routines.
Travel, at its best, is transformative. It’s not just about seeing new places, but about becoming more aware, more open, and more connected. As much as I’ve loved our previous adventures collecting passport stamps and Instagram moments, I find myself increasingly drawn to experiences that might leave fewer photographs but deeper impressions on our hearts.
Ange and I often talk about how traveling together has strengthened our relationship. These 2025 journeys will certainly test us in new ways—physically on the Camino, mentally during our slow immersion in Vietnam, and definitely climatically in Harbin! But it’s precisely these challenges that reveal new dimensions of ourselves and each other.
Have you experienced any of these destinations or types of travel? We’d love to hear your insights or suggestions in the comments below. And if you’ve been contemplating a similar journey, perhaps this is your sign to start planning!
