What My Trip to Europe Taught Me About Aging Well, Rest, and Food That Loves You Back

I’ve just returned from a few weeks in Europe. It was the longest break I’ve taken in years—and I took it seriously.

No laptop. Minimal supplements. Zero structure.

What I thought would be a quick recharge turned out to be a full recalibration.

Here’s what stood out:

1. Food tastes better when you slow down

It wasn’t just that the food was less processed—or that even the supermarket berries were bursting with flavour. It was the simplicity, the quality, and the presence.

The produce was exceptional. Markets were filled with seasonal fruits and vegetables. Cheese, bread, vinegar, and pasta were made using traditional methods—nothing rushed, nothing unnecessary. You could taste the care in it.

Meals weren’t rushed either. People sat together, outdoors, phones away, watching the world go by. They ate slowly, without distraction, often with a glass of wine that lasted an hour or more.

No one was tracking macros. No one was eating for performance. And yet, digestion seemed effortless.

It reminded me that food isn’t just about nutrition—it’s also about rhythm, connection, and pleasure. And when those things are in place, your body responds.

2. Older women are visible—and vibrant

I saw so many older women dressed beautifully, with clear personal style. They weren’t trying to look younger. They looked alive.

Strong. Effortful. Elegant. Not hiding their age—inhabiting it.

It reminded me how often we shrink ourselves as we age. These women didn’t and their beauty is loved by those around them. 

3. You can’t think your way out of stress. You have to stop.

It took ten full days before I stopped thinking about work—about my clients, about the next project, about what the business needed from me.

At the two-week mark, my energy finally dipped. That wasn't burnout—it was adrenaline leaving my system.

Only then could my body start to regulate, and my mind start to rest.

4. Boundaries are cultural—and we can choose them

Shops close for lunch and don’t reopen until mid to late afternoon (depending on where you are). Weekends are for being outside. Lazing around in gardens. Reading a book or the paper. Sitting barefoot in the sun.

Even on a Monday night, restaurants are packed with people enjoying life.

They work to live. Not the other way around.

I came home with my empathy back.
My clarity returned.
And a deeper commitment to doing things slower, simpler, and more on purpose.

No hacks. No algorithms. Just living well.

If you’re craving the same, I’d encourage this:
Look at what filled you up on your last real break—and make space for more of that in your regular life.

Even if it’s 10 minutes in the sun.
Even if it’s a quiet dinner without your phone.
Even if it’s just remembering that being well isn’t something you earn by doing more.

It starts with doing less—and feeling it.