The Art of Slow Travel 003 | With Bella Haigh

I was lucky enough to have a beautiful chat with Bella Haigh about her experience with slow travel.

More and more, people are shifting away from the “must-see” lists and tourist itineraries, and instead seeking to experience places in a more grounded, intentional way - through culture, connection, and everyday rhythms. Bella is such an incredible embodiment of this approach.

In our conversation, Bella shared what slow travel means to her, not just as a way of moving through the world, but as a ritual of returning to herself. She spoke of travel as a practice of presence, an invitation to slow down and listen - to the texture of place, the rhythm of nature, the quiet language of her own body. Her time in Thailand marked a deeply transformative chapter, teaching her how to move with intention and tenderness, and to see travel as both mirror and medicine.

I loved hearing Bella’s reflections on the poetry of solitude, sensory connection, and how journeying can become a pathway back to self. I hope her words remind you to take your time, to let the world touch you, and to find ritual in the simplest moments of your own travels.

What does "slow travel" mean to you personally, and how did you discover this approach?
For me, slow travel isn’t just about moving through a place at half-speed, it’s about letting a place move through me. I discovered it almost by accident. I realised that rushing around to tick off every “must see” spot left me with lots of photos but not much memory of how it actually felt to be there. Slow travel is choosing depth over breadth. It’s having tea with a stranger instead of standing in line at some monument, or spending three days wandering the same market until the vendors know your name. It’s a reminder that presence is the souvenir.

How do you resist the pressure to see and do "everything" when you're somewhere new?
Honestly? I don’t resist it, I just laugh at it. That little voice that says, “You’ve only got three days, better see it all!” is the same one that would have me living my whole life like a checklist. I remind myself: if I truly fall in love with a place, I’ll come back. And if I don’t, then why would I want to “do it all” anyway? I’d rather leave with one incredible memory. like the taste of home-brewed tea from a woman I met in the streets of Vietnam, rather than twenty half-felt ones. Plus, there’s something deliciously rebellious about saying, “Nah, I’m not doing the top ten things to do in Ho Chi Minh.”

From my experience, some women really worry about doing things alone when solo travelling, how do you navigate this? Was it something that came easefully and naturally to you or something you had to work on within yourself?
Oh, I was terrified at first. I used to think that being alone meant I was missing out, or that, because I’m quite introverted, I wouldn’t stumble into the exciting situations that usually come more easily when traveling with the comfort of someone else. But over time, I realised solitude is a muscle - you strengthen it by using it. My first solo days felt awkward, yet kind of liberating? Like everyone was staring at me, but the truth is… no one cares. People are too busy deciding what dinner to order. Now, I crave those moments. Being alone has taught me how to trust my instincts, how to notice the world in ways you can’t when you’re distracted, and how to actually enjoy my own company. It’s not about erasing fear - it’s about holding it, gently, until curiosity gets louder.

What's the biggest lesson or personal transformation that slow travel has given you that you couldn't have gotten any other way? 

Slow travel has taught me that my worth isn’t in my productivity, it’s in my presence. When you move slower, you naturally regulate your nervous system. Suddenly, you’re not in fight-or-flight mode trying to cram in ten sights a day; you’re grounded, calm, and creating a sense of inner safety no matter where you are in the world. That shift has been huge for me. It means I can walk into a bustling city or a quiet mountain town and still feel anchored in myself. I’ve learned to trust the pace of my own life, even when it doesn’t look like anyone else’s. And here’s the cheeky part - I don’t think I could have learned that at home, because home carries all the noise of routine and expectation. On the road, especially when you linger, you’re stripped back to the essentials of who you are. Slow travel is my most consistent teacher in surrender—and in nervous system calm.

What made you want to go to Thailand in the first place?
At first, Thailand felt like this dreamy postcard; jungles, temples, bustling night markets, but what really drew me in was the energy. People talk about “the land of smiles,” and it’s true, but it goes deeper. There’s this softness, this way of life that feels less about rushing and more about being. I wanted to place myself inside that rhythm, to see how it might shape me if I let it. And honestly, I was craving somewhere that could hold both adventure and introspection - the beach sunsets and the meditation cushions. Thailand felt like the perfect mirror for both.

Do you have any hot tips for finding places to stay/experiences/eateries that you love and align with the experience you create whilst travelling?
My trick is simple: I wander, ask, and trust my gut. If a place feels warm and full of life, I follow that. I’m not really a “Top 10 Things to Do” kind of girl - I’d rather chat to a local at the markets, or ask the person running the yoga class where they eat after work. I also love talking to other travellers I feel a connection with, it’s like there’s this unspoken compass when you meet someone on a similar wavelength, and they always seem to know about the hidden gems. And then of course, I draw inspiration from creators who resonate with me. The way they experience a place often sparks new ways for me to explore it myself. Mostly though, I notice how my body feels when I walk into a space. If I instantly feel relaxed, welcomed, grounded - I stay. If my nervous system spikes, I leave. It’s kind of like dating; if it feels off, don’t force it.

I loved seeing everything you shared from the Papae meditation retreat, it's a place I've always been interested in. Can you share with us one little gem of wisdom that you've been able to carry with you since that retreat?
The biggest teaching I carried away from Papae was realising how much of our suffering comes from the attachments we create - attachment to expectation, to outcomes, to the stories we tell ourselves about who we are. The retreat felt like a purification of the mind. It showed me how tightly I’d been holding onto those old narratives, almost like they defined me. Letting them soften was like being given permission to simply exist without needing to prove, without waiting for something outside myself to complete me. It was one big invitation to cultivate that sense of unconditional love and wholeness within. Since then, I’ve held onto this knowing that freedom comes not from controlling life, but from loosening my grip on how I think it “should” be.

If someone wanted to experience Thailand the way you have - the more authentic, spiritual side - what’s one thing they should do or one place they should go that’s completely off the typical tourist path?
Skip the full moon parties and instead head into the mountains around Chiang Mai. Find a small village, a retreat, or even just a humble guesthouse where life moves at half the pace. One of my favourite moments was dancing wildly at a small, arts festival with three women who I met a week ago (who are now some of my closest friends). It wasn’t glamorous, but it felt like truth and an embodiment of the essence I wanted to cultivate on this trip. Thailand’s spiritual side isn’t always found in the big temples - it’s in the way people live with reverence for the everyday. If you let yourself slow down enough, even a bowl of Khao Soi on a plastic stool, roadside, can feel like a meditation.

   
Images by Bella

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