Curiosity Travel: A Joyful Way to Wander Without Leaving Home

Tired of crowded airports, endless TSA lines, or the five-year-old behind you on the plane who thinks kicking your seat is a sport? No problem. Try curiosity travel instead—an at-home adventure that costs almost nothing (exceptions apply), runs on your schedule, and lets you choose your favorite destinations.

Your ticket? Curiosity. And with it, the world opens up.

Curiosity: The Ultimate Travel Companion

When the world feels overwhelming and it seems there’s nothing we can do, curiosity gives us a way forward. It restores our agency.

We get to choose what intrigues us. We get to follow whatever path lights us up. It might be something small or obscure—but it’s ours.

Of course, we’re all born curious. But intentionally pursuing that curiosity—letting it lead the way—turns it into a true adventure.

(A small note of caution: If you’re already curious about everything and likely to follow rabbit holes while ignoring tax deadlines… pace yourself. Do the taxes, then reward yourself with a curiosity detour. That’s why I’m cleaning the guest room before diving into my next learning quest.)

Learning That Feels Like Play

Learning comes naturally when we’re interested. Brazilian educator Paulo Freire said it simply: people learn to read best when they’re taught using the words they want to know. Why, then, do some educators forget the power of self-directed learning?

I remember almost nothing from my college Art History class. The parade of madonnas, marble gods, and cherubs felt dusty and disconnected. I liked the Impressionists, and that was about it.

Recently, though, I’ve embarked on a curiosity-driven art history journey—and I’m having a blast. I zig and zag, follow whatever catches my eye, and soak it all in. It feels like wandering the back alleys of a medieval French town—minus the croissants.

One Sample Journey

When I started painting, I came across artists I didn’t know, and my curiosity was sparked. As I began sketching, I started to see just how skillful those Renaissance draftsmen were—and how much I could learn by copying them.

The door cracked open.

Then, as part of my radio show, I interviewed English filmmaker Phil Grabsky, the force behind Exhibition on Screen, a documentary series about iconic artists and exhibitions. Watching his films, I was transported. Learning about Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael made the Renaissance come alive—and suddenly, I needed to know more.

At the start of my quest, I could barely tell the difference between the Renaissance and the Middle Ages (apologies to my high school history teachers). But that quickly changed. My curiosity about art led me straight into history. As I made my way through Phil’s films—from Rembrandt to Manet to Matisse—each era lit up with new meaning.

Off the Main Roads

Most of the old masters were white men. So naturally, I began to wonder: Where were the women? Where were the artists of color?

The beautiful snake of curiosity kept slithering.

I discovered 9th Street Women, a powerful book about groundbreaking female artists in 20th-century New York. That led me into the world of abstract expressionism. Then I found Jean-Michel Basquiat, a young Black artist whose short life burned bright—his story a modern Greek tragedy. That led to more learning about racial injustice in the art world, and how artists of color have navigated and challenged it.

Curiosity doesn’t just entertain—it deepens and expands.

Curiosity Travel Changes You

Travel expert Rick Steves says the right kind of travel changes who we are. Curiosity travel does, too.

With each step of my art quest, I learned not just about artists, but about myself:
What kinds of stories move me?
Who do I admire?
How does what I’m learning inspire my own art?

I discovered:

You can gorge on this kind of travel and never worry about calories.
Curiosity opens the door to wonder—an unbeatable travel companion.
With curiosity, you’re your own university: student, teacher, and evaluator (who always gives you good grades).
Libraries and YouTube are treasures for the at-home explorer.
History matters—it helps me step away from the news churn and gain perspective on what humans have endured, created, and overcome.

A few curiosity-travel tips
Start with what you love. Forget what you “should” learn. This is your adventure.
Honor your quest. It matters because you say it does.
Stay disciplined-ish. YouTube is amazing—but beware the rabbit hole that suddenly makes Tom Cruise seem more relevant than Leonardo da Vinci.
Time boundaries help. You still need sleep.
Celebrate your discoveries. Journal about them—or just savor a moment of reflection over a perfect café latte.

The Biggest Gift: Agency

The world wants to buy your attention. Curiosity helps you reclaim it.

You get to say: I’m here. I’m curious. I like what I like—and I’m following my nose.

So buckle up. Take the trip. And if you go exploring, I’d love to hear what you discover.