How Getting Lost Became My Favourite Travel Memory

How Getting Lost Became My Favourite Travel Memory: A Complete Guide

It happened in Lisbon — although it really could’ve been anywhere. I’d turned down a narrow street on my way to the Miradouro da Graça viewpoint, certain I knew the way. Ten minutes later, I realised I had absolutely no idea where I was. No map. No plan. Just me, the warm smell of baked custard tarts drifting from a nearby café, and a hill that felt steeper every time I looked up.

But instead of panicking, something unexpected happened. I slowed down. I stopped walking with purpose and started wandering with curiosity. I listened to the hum of a language I barely understood, watched an old man fold laundry on a tiny balcony, and followed the sound of a guitarist practising somewhere behind brightly tiled walls.

Also Read: Why Romanian Hospitality Feels Like Coming Home.

A woman sweeping her doorstep smiled and pointed me in the direction of a small square I would never have found otherwise. There, under orange trees, a local artist was painting the rooftops in watercolour. I bought a small postcard of his work — not because I needed a souvenir, but because I didn’t want to forget that feeling: the joy of not knowing, the magic of letting a city unfold naturally.

Getting lost taught me that travel isn’t about perfect itineraries. It’s about letting the unexpected happen — allowing a place to surprise you instead of forcing it to fit inside a schedule. Some of my favourite memories were accidents: wrong turns, missed buses, cafés chosen because the rain started suddenly.

Of course, I still prepare the boring-but-important bits before I fly. Booking airport parking Manchester makes departures smoother, and checking airport parking deals means I save a little extra for those spontaneous moments — the ones that end up meaning the most.

Looking back, I realise that getting lost didn’t waste time at all. It gave the trip its soul. And now, whenever I travel, I always leave room for a wrong turn or two. It’s usually where the story begins.