With no pressing content on the horizon for the next few days, I wanted to take this opportunity to write about something a bit different. For a while now, there have been questions floating around in my head about my relationship with travelling. While it has always occupied a space in my life, I’ve found that year upon year, my passion for the subject has only continued to grow and morph to the point that I blog and pitch about it all the time. And this got me wondering about where it all began.

After some research, I came across the idea of creating travelling traditions, whose underpinnings struck a chord with how my own trips abroad started. One of the many curious little quirks of the human condition, these habitual rituals, which include everything from seeking out a familiar restaurant to collecting postcards, underscore what it means to separate ordinary life from a holiday. I suspect that many of you reading this, even if you are unaware, do these types of rituals from time to time.

The idea of creating travelling traditions is an incredibly broad subject, with numerous academic angles and perspectives. Even though I could talk about these themes, I think there is greater importance to be found from a personal perspective, which can then be used as a spark of inspiration.

A Bit of BBQ in France

Although I had been on trips abroad before, my most vivid childhood holiday memories came from my summer visits to France. Each summer, for more than 10 years, these two-week road trips would come like clockwork. We’d plan two locations in the country, always different from the previous year, before setting off in the last days of July. What awaited was a fun-filled time of exploration and family moments, but it could only begin once we had made our way to one special place: the Buffalo Grill.

As a kid, this fast-food restaurant very quickly became a symbol of my holiday sentiment. After all, they were always impossible to miss. With its white horns and signature red roof, they always found a way to entice, even amidst the distractions of traffic, noise, and the sweltering heat of French summertime. Featuring every stereotype of BBQ country imaginable, they were a tiny piece of America found across the length and breadth of the country.

Looking back on it now, I suppose that something so out of place with its surroundings made for a bit of an odd choice of a travelling tradition. Nevertheless, its chicken wings and a warm doughnut for dessert always meant that there was something great on the horizon.  

Evolving Traditions

As the years of travelling through France went by, visiting the infamous Buffalo Grill on the first night of the trip became a frequent occurrence, but for me, these traditions also morphed alongside my interests. My curiosity about the country we were so often visiting resulted in a cultural itch, as well as a new hobby – collecting souvenir coins.  

Throughout many of France’s noteworthy historical spots, you could (and still can) find a collectable souvenir coin depicting either a building or a historical event. Though these types of coins aren’t uncommon in other countries, the French ones stood out above the rest because they were officially minted by Monnaie de Paris, France’s currency mint. This type of national legitimacy really drew me in when I was younger, and in my mind, it was as if this stamp of approval would be worth more in the future.

If I were being honest, these little day excursions started more as a reason to get another Monnaie de Paris coin in my collection. I must’ve worn my parents’ patience thin to the ground, dragging them across towns and cities all in aid of a small souvenir. However, though I can’t say exactly when, I eventually developed a taste for the meaning behind the pictures in the coins. At some point, I needed a connection to what I was collecting to give it meaning and, ultimately, a memory. For my own peace of mind, I needed it to be something that I could look back on and vividly recall every detail as if I were standing right there with a freshly minted coin in my hands.

Today, despite my focus on the culture and history of the places I visit, this tradition in particular still plays a role. As a result of my earlier obsessions, I still can’t leave a country empty-handed. To this day, I have managed to pick up a pin or two, as well as some local sheet music from everywhere I’ve visited.