Why I Sketch When I Travel (And Why You Should Try It Too)

Flow

I used to sketch on most of my trips. I started as a child. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Matisse museum in the south of France, mesmerised by the colours. His style - fauvism in general - always worked with me. The gesture, the brightness… it’s a child’s dream. It feels like freedom.

I would try to copy what I saw with my crayons, and you could just leave me there for hours. I believe my parents did. That’s probably the first time I realised something interesting happens when you draw in public. People stop. They stare a little - but always respectfully. Deep down, we all look at the creative process with reverence, no matter who’s experiencing it. It’s magical. Witnessing something so intimate is special.

Why do we go to the theatre, the ballet, the stadium? To see people entranced in a state of flow, doing what they love to the best of their ability - being fully present. I believe we all connect to that.

Montpellier & La Grande-Motte, France

Life Got In The Way

So, I sketched, drew, painted - whatever you want to call it - throughout most of my childhood and teenage years. And then I lost it a bit.

Life got in the way, and what was previously a lifestyle became a hobby, and then a luxury. I missed it. But I also became more and more judgmental and performative about my own work. Like many other things, if it wasn’t perfect (and it never could be), I believed it shouldn’t exist.

In hindsight, that aggressive mindset robbed me of a few opportunities for imperfect joy.

Loss

2019 - just before COVID - was both the best and worst year of my life so far. I travelled a lot to cope with a very personal and traumatic loss, and it gave me a chance to reconnect with sketching. I discovered watercolour.

Brazil, 2019

Before that, I was mostly a black-and-white drawer rather than a painter. I’ve never liked thick paints like acrylics or oils - they feel restrictive, like goopy toothpaste. I like inks. The odd pencil. Quick, soft, flowy materials. Watercolour, I realised, was perfect for travel sketching.

And I really, really liked it.

New York, USA 2019

Nepal, 2021

Fully Present

It kept me fully present, fully distracted from difficult thoughts - and it reconnected me with my inner child: the creative, soft, most positive parts of myself. I painted for me, to memorise and capture the feel and beauty of the world around me at a time when I needed to be reminded of it.

Because of that, it didn’t need to be perfect. I’ve always loved illustrations and interesting, unrealistic perspectives, so naturally I leaned into that - especially since I lack patience and enjoy quick gestures.

I ended up sketching in Canada, Italy, Brazil, France... I even did a solo trip to Slovenia (it was the only country that would let me in during lockdown) where all I did was sketch, chat with strangers, and eat good food.

Naples, Italy 2019

Connection

And it happened again. That magic moment I felt as a child.

I was offered a free tour because someone liked how I drew the bridge: “I’m a guide - I’ll explain the details, come.” I got first-class collectibles on KLM because the pilot wanted to see my sketches. I had a “conversation” with a group of grandmas - still don’t know what language it was. I left a sketch as a thank-you note in Nepal.

Travel sketching connects you to your surroundings, to your memory, to yourself - but also to others.

Slovenia, 2021

Now

I lost it again these past couple of years - but this time for happy reasons. I got busy, moved house, fell in love. Life got in the way again.

So on this trip to Portugal, I thought I’d try again. And I did. (Scroll down to see my Portuguese sketches)

I didn’t try to make the sketches perfect or even pretty. Most of them took 10 to 15 minutes. I didn’t use a pencil - I didn’t want a crutch. I needed to commit to the lines and be forced to get instinctive.

Funnily enough, none of the glorious landscapes or houses inspired me in the moment. My partner did.

I liked the casual intimacy of working together, having coffee. I could stare without looking creepy, and because he moves, I had to really look. My aim was to look at the subject more than the page. I had brought a sketchbook I love, but it felt too precious—too small, too constrictive. So I bought cheap mixed media paper from a Portuguese supermarket and made that work.

(Re)Sparked

I used to think creativity needed to be perfect. Now I know it just needs to be present.

Sketching has helped me find beauty, stillness, and connection across decades and continents. It’s helped me grieve, heal, observe, and remember.

And maybe most importantly - it’s helped me come back to myself.

Working in the cutest airbnb near Figueira da Foz, incredible views of nature and adorable hosts. Here, if you're interested (not affiliated).

On the tiny Ryanair plane, ran out of water so it's forever unfinished now.

Working in a Cafe in Figueira da Foz, the Pastel de Nata was yummy!

Little old lady chilling at the beach, I don't know what appealed to me but I thought she looked like a comic book.

My partner working in the worst position, also he moved so apparently gained 20kg in the process - oops

The drawing that convinced me to change sketchbooks, I just don't love it

A cute elderly dog we met, I liked that he was scruffy. Quite soft though!