There’s a quiet truth you don’t hear much about in travel blogs or dreamy Instagram posts.
You can be eating fresh pasta in a sun-drenched piazza, surrounded by beauty and history and laughter—and still feel a little bit… lonely.
Not because anything is wrong. In fact, everything might be perfect. But humans don’t just crave beauty, adventure, or even freedom. We crave connection. Deep, soul-nourishing, belly-laughing, “I see you” connection. And when it’s missing, no mountain, temple, or city skyline can quite fill the gap.
We’ve been on the road since December 30, and today—April 20—we’re in Bologna, tucked into our cozy apartment with five days behind us and six more ahead before heading to Venice. We’ve been incredibly lucky these past few weeks. In Japan, we had Happy Gal’s mom join us for part of the adventure, and we shared meaningful time with our dear friends from Sit for the Road—the kind of moments that fill you up in all the right ways. And soon, my sister will meet us here in Bologna, adding another layer of warmth to our time in Italy. Before this stretch, we wandered through Tuscany’s vineyards and hill towns for six nights, squeezed in two whirlwind days in Rome, and before that, we were in Vietnam—dodging scooters, devouring bánh mì, and falling hard for the organized chaos that somehow works.
And lately? We haven’t felt as lonely.
But still… something lingers.
Italy has a phrase: il dolce far niente—the sweetness of doing nothing. And it is sweet. Sitting in a sun-dappled piazza, espresso in hand, no agenda except to be… it’s beautiful. But here’s what we’ve come to realize: doing nothing is only sweet when it’s shared. Without someone to smile at across the table, to nudge with a joke, to get lost in conversation with, that sweetness starts to fade. Stillness can quickly turn to silence. Thankfully, we get to share that stillness as a family—and that makes all the difference.
Still, when we reach out to friends and are met with silence—or a reply days later with nothing but an emoji—it stings a little. And you start to wonder: is it the timezone? Are people just busy? Or is it that old cliché whispering again: out of sight, out of mind?
Back home, we already sensed this. Even when we were stationary, with calendars and barbecues and “let’s get together sometime” texts, connection still felt elusive. So, we set out to travel the world, thinking the time together as a family would fill us up (and it has!). But this trip has made something else painfully clear too: you have to live where your friends are—or make friends where you live. And you have to make connection a priority.
Because the truth is, loneliness doesn’t wait for the “right time.” It creeps in during quiet moments. It hides under sunsets and behind cappuccinos. And according to the U.S. Surgeon General, it’s not just a passing feeling—it’s a public health crisis, as dangerous as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.
The Harvard Study of Adult Development backs it up: the single biggest factor in your long-term health and happiness isn’t diet or exercise—it’s strong relationships. The kind where you feel known. Cared for. Loved.
We’ve been lucky to catch glimpses of that on this journey—breakfast chats at homestays, a magical night in Hoi An with a traveling family who instantly felt like old friends. But those moments are the exception. Most days, it’s just us.
And we love us. That’s the whole reason we did this. We are our favorite people.
But we also know ourselves. Happy Gal and I are extroverts. On our first flight out of San Diego, she was already brainstorming who to invite to our “Welcome Home” party. We thrive on connection, on deep conversations and shared experiences. And lately, we’ve realized that just wanting connection isn’t enough. You have to create it.
So here’s our reminder—to ourselves, and to you:
Don’t wait for someone to reach out. Be the one who calls. Sends the message. Makes the plan.
Seventeen years ago, I spent a Saturday feeling bored and alone. That night I finally called a friend. He had spent the day the exact same way. If either of us had reached out earlier, we could’ve been bored together.
Now, we’re halfway around the world, and the lesson still holds:
Even when you’re living your dream, connection is what makes it real.
