The Armchair Traveller

There’s a quiet kind of travel that doesn’t begin with a boarding pass.

It starts with a book. A line in a film. A photograph pinned on someone else’s wall.

You find yourself staring at a cobbled street in Prague or the curve of a balcony in Greece, and for a moment—only a moment—you are there. You feel the weight of the sun in a city you’ve never been to, the imagined breeze of a coastline your feet have never touched.

They call it being an armchair traveller.

But really, it’s not about chairs or armrests or comfort.

It’s about a longing that doesn’t require movement.

A curiosity that doesn’t wait for visas.

Some of us travel with our eyes closed.

We collect accents in characters, remember cities by the mood of their streetlamps. We wander through pages, maps, playlists. We pack lightly—just our imagination and a willingness to wonder.

It’s not less than the real thing. It’s just… another way of visiting.

Maybe we don’t always need to leave home to feel changed.

Maybe a story is enough to carry us somewhere new, then gently bring us back—wiser, softer, still…….