Travel, Friendship & The Art of Coming Home
Travel, Friendship & The Art of Coming Home
There’s something about stepping off a plane in a different city — the air smells new, the light feels different, and your pace shifts before you even realize it.
Last weekend, I landed in Dallas to spend a few days with dear friends. We packed the weekend like a suitcase that barely zips — new restaurants, long chats over home-cooked meals, a night out dancing, a few hours being blissfully pampered at a day spa, and, on Sunday afternoon, a trip to the Dallas Museum of Art.
Trips like this remind me why travel is so exhilarating — the way it lifts you out of your everyday patterns and fills your senses with fresh flavors, colors, and conversations. And when you’re traveling with close friends, the joy doubles. Shared experiences turn into inside jokes, favorite meals become “remember when” moments, and you leave with a little more sparkle in your heart than you arrived with.
But even the most joyful travel can rattle our carefully tended routines. My morning rituals, my quiet writing time, my meal rhythms — they all tumble into a different shape when I’m away.
And the shift isn’t just during the trip — coming home means navigating the re-entry. The suitcase sits half-unpacked, emails wait for answers, and the rhythm you left behind takes time to find again.
Over the years, I’ve learned that the trick isn’t to “bounce back” instantly — it’s to give yourself grace in the transition.
Here are a few gentle ways I’ve found to make the shift smoother:
Bookend your trip – If you can, keep the day before and after travel light. Your mind and body will thank you.
Unpack slowly – Not everything needs to be put away the minute you walk in the door.
Ease into rituals – Choose one grounding habit to do your first morning home, like making your favorite coffee or going for a short walk.
Bring the magic home – Cook a dish inspired by your trip, print a favorite photo, or jot down a few sentences about a moment you don’t want to forget.
“The souvenirs worth keeping aren’t things you can pack in a bag.”
For me, one of those moments in Dallas came at the very end of our trip — wandering the Dallas Museum of Art on a rainy Sunday afternoon, letting the colors and textures of centuries-old masterpieces and contemporary works wrap around us like a final toast to the weekend.
Art & Culture Spotlight – A Sunday at the Dallas Museum of Art
There’s a certain magic for me when I step into an art museum. The pace naturally slows. Voices drop to a hush.
For me, I think of it as “museum bathing” — like forest bathing, but with paintings and sculpture instead of trees. Letting the art, light, and stillness wash over me until my mind quiets and my shoulders drop. It was the perfect reset before heading home, a way to gather up all the weekend’s color and beauty to carry forward.
The Dallas Museum of Art is one of the largest art museums in the country, with more than 25,000 works spanning 5,000 years of history — from ancient artifacts to bold contemporary installations. But what struck me most was how the space seemed to hold both grandeur and intimacy at once.
We wandered without a plan, letting curiosity be our guide. A flash of gold leaf here, a haunting portrait there. I found myself lingering in front of a vivid abstract that seemed to hum with energy, the kind of piece that makes you wonder what the artist was feeling in that exact moment of creation.
If you ever find yourself in Dallas, I can’t recommend enough setting aside a few hours for this museum. Better yet, save it for the end of your trip — as a way to gather all the weekend’s inspiration and carry it home with you.
Dish of the Week – Pan-Seared Chicken with Harissa, Dates & Citrus
No trip to Dallas is complete without a pilgrimage to Central Market — HEB’s glorious temple to all things culinary. It’s the kind of place where you go in for lemons and emerge an hour later with fresh dates, imported harissa paste, and a wedge of cheese you couldn’t possibly leave behind.
This visit, my host had already planned something special before we even arrived — a dish he’s made several times and perfected: Pan-Seared Chicken with Harissa, Dates, and Citrus, inspired by a New York Times Cooking recipe. It was the kind of thoughtfulness that makes you feel immediately welcomed — knowing that someone has been thinking about your meal days before you walk through their door.
The dish is a beautiful balance of flavors: the smoky heat of harissa softened by the sweetness of dates, brightened with the sunny lift of orange. We gathered in the kitchen as he worked, music playing, wine glasses in hand, the air filling with the rich scent of garlic, citrus, and spice. Watching a practiced cook move with confidence is its own kind of art.
If you subscribe to NYT Cooking, you can find the original recipe here or by searching the title.
If not, here’s my inspired take so you can try it yourself:
Marinate bone-in chicken thighs in harissa paste, orange juice, and olive oil.
Sear the chicken skin-side down in a heavy skillet until golden and crisp.
Tuck in sliced dates, a few garlic cloves, and wedges of orange.
Finish in the oven until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce is glossy and fragrant.
Serve with rice, couscous, quinoa, or a leafy green salad to soak up the sauce.
It’s a dish I can’t wait to recreate in my own kitchen — though I suspect it will always taste best in theirs, surrounded by friends and laughter.
Closing Reflection
Travel has a way of shaking us loose — from our routines, from our to-do lists, and sometimes even from ourselves. It’s in the change of scenery, the shared laughter over a table, the new colors and flavors that we remember life is meant to be savored, not just scheduled.
Last weekend in Dallas was a reminder that the best trips aren’t necessarily about far-off places or jam-packed itineraries. They’re about who you’re with, the moments you make together, and the little rituals — like a favorite recipe or a visit to a beloved market — that anchor you to a place.
And when the trip ends, the souvenirs worth keeping aren’t things you can pack in a bag. They’re the warmth of a kitchen filled with friends, the quiet awe of a museum gallery, the taste of a dish you can’t wait to make at home, and the gratitude for people who welcome you as if you’ve never left.
Wherever this week takes you, I hope you find a moment to bring a bit of that travel spirit into your own days — to pause, savor, and carry the joy home.
With gratitude,
Heather, The Bonne Vivant
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