The Art of Travel Journaling

Looking up at the mountains in Jiaju Tibetan Village in Danba county, Sichuan, China.

“Anything can be critical to a formulation if you have the right containers.” — Spencer Chang

Back in June of 2025, I was visiting with my step-grandma, someone I have a cherished connection with. At the time, she was in the process of moving in to her new home and many of her belongings were stacked in boxes throughout the space. At every turn and with each belonging, I saw the ripples of an entire life. Every item embodied a precious memory; each a vignette into her vivid life.

One day, while I was glancing over a bookshelf, she pointed out a few notebooks which were the travel journals of her late husband. My late step-grandpa was a brilliant artist and prolific creative, so I was quite curious to flip through these journals of his and connect with him through his writing.

As I soaked up every page with curiosity and awe, I was taken aback by how well-crafted they were — from the simple description of his itinerary, to the reflections and thoughts that came up throughout the day, to the glued cutouts from memorabilia collected along the way, all tastefully arranged and marked by his pleasant handwriting.

I was particularly mesmerized by the cutouts. Seemingly insignificant things like ferry tickets, tourist pamphlets, or segments of a map transformed into rich artifacts embodying memories and stories. The journal acted as a container for such items. In doing so, it became a lens for his own perceptions and observations. I imagined his intentional journaling practice made him see the world differently, both in how he experienced and remembered it.

I was profoundly inspired by these creations of his. They were beautiful.

The next day I went to a nearby store and bought a notebook, intending to use it as my own travel journal. For the rest of the visit, I began looking for things I might have normally paid no attention to. For example, we stopped in a nearby hobby store and I looked through their binders of Magic The Gathering cards, a card game I used to play quite a bit with my brother and friends. Unsurprisingly, strong feelings of nostalgia came up followed by many memories of past experiences. Eventually, I bought a card that stood out for whatever reason. Even though I don’t play the game anymore, it still served a purpose — I could glue it into my journal and combine it with a reflection.

I continued the practice on my following trip to New York City, collecting small items and putting them in my journal along with accompanying commentary. It was quite fun having a reason to look for and keep little nic-nacs. I noticed that I was engaging with the world in a way that felt more deliberate and intentional.

Over the subsequent months, I struggled to maintain the practice. Sometimes, I forgot to bring my journal with me. Other times, I simply didn’t open it. Partially, it was a matter of medium — I’m so much more comfortable typing, recording, copying and pasting than I am cutting, gluing and handwriting. I was bothered by this. I yearned for crafting journals like my step-grandpa, yet lacked the proper form to do so.

On a recent trip to China, however, I unexpectedly discovered a much more maintainable practice and it was a massive breakthrough.

Looking up the Shuangqiao Valley of Mt. Siguniang in the Ngawa Tibetan and Qiang Autonomous Prefecture, Sichuan, China.

Before the trip had started, I was fostering an intention to actively engage in my upcoming experiences. Preparing myself to resist the trip from unfolding in a rushing blur and instead participate through deep observation and deliberate reflection. I initially planned to use my physical notebook, but once I was in China, I was again confronted by the limitations of the physical medium. Always having my journal and a pen on me is unrealistic, let alone the challenge of trying to write in it without a good surface (plus my handwriting sucks). Instead, I needed a mobile-friendly solution to my journaling and documentation needs without so much friction.

I first tried the iOS Journal app for a day (which I’ve tried before). Apple makes it easy to use by automatically grouping photos and a location along with notification reminders. But it didn’t work for me, mainly because all attached media went into a gallery view with one chunk of text. Meaning it was shaped more like an Instagram post. Preferably, the embedded media could be placed throughout the text like... a blog — aha!

And that’s when it all clicked. Why not write my journal entries like mini day blogs? I realized Apple Notes supports this perfectly [1]. Besides, I was familiar with the environment because I was using it for writing my actual blog posts.

At last, I found the artistic form that worked for me, and it was in my pocket the entire time! From that day onward, I decided I would journal about each day in Apple Notes, documenting the day by weaving my photos and videos into a micro-story with my writing as the thread holding everything together.

As each day unfolded, I would jot down observations, drop in select photos & videos, capture the occasional audio recording of an interesting sound (nature, singing, etc), embed point-of-interest locations from my maps app, and paste in links and excerpts from websites related to my experiences. Whenever I had larger blocks of free time (maybe during a break or before bed) I’d fill in key details and ultimately craft the note into a readable, personal and narrative-driven artifact.

Example screenshots of my daily travel journal notes. Photos are from Jingmai Mountain in the Lancang Lahu Autonomous County, Yunnan, China.

I found that this style of documentation was ideal for my needs. I wanted to craft my daily experiences into something more than just a series of photos or social media posts but also something less than a fully polished and researched blog or an edited video. It was just simple enough to coarsely craft each daily note in real-time, leaving the harder work of revision and filling in key details fully manageable within small windows of free time. In most cases, I’d either finish writing the note the same or following day.

Beyond the relative simplicity and fun of it all[2], I noticed something deeper shifting within me.

One of the things I’ve struggled the most with from traveling is integration: taking all the things I’ve learned, new perspectives I’ve gained, memories I’ve created, people I’ve met, realizations about life and assimilating them into my identity. Traveling changes us in significant ways, often indescribably so. Yet paradoxically, so much can happen while traveling that integrating and processing all of it afterwards can be overwhelming. I know I’m not alone in this feeling.

Amazingly, this mini day blog approach encouraged me to integrate the travel while it was happening. The self-reflection of my experiences occurred closer to the time of their unfolding, leaving cohesive traces in their wake. These traces are sufficiently complete narrative accounts of my days. Rather than a disjointed scattering of notes and photos (as had been the case for most my other travels), I’m left with a coherent contemplative environment I can return to whenever I feel like reconnecting with that part of my life. If I ever do, the notes are open to revisions and refinement, but the harder parts of integration are over. In the end, I’m able to move on with my life knowing that the transformative influence of my travels are a part of me.

More example screenshots of my daily travel journal notes. Photos are from Niubeishan Mountain in the Luding County, Sichuan; Xiaojin County, Sichuan; Mt. Siguniang in the Ngawa Tibetan and Qiang Autonomous Prefecture, Sichuan; Pu’er, Yunnan, and; Xindu District of Chengdu.

Perhaps my step-grandpa felt the same way about his own journal entries all those years ago. I’ll never fully know since I can’t ask him. What was clear from his writing, though, was that he absolutely loved traveling. So much so that he felt it worthwhile to meticulously craft each page of his journals. His passion spilled over beyond his own life, igniting a desire within myself to creatively portray some of my own journeys in this beautifully complex world.

Importantly, he showed me that every day of a trip is an opportunity to tell a lasting story. The extent to which these stories get told and, by extension, relived depends on the degree to which the storyteller shows up each day with intention and deliberate engagement.

Just like the vignette of rich life stories embedded within my step-grandmothers belongings, so too can we embed meaning into our digital artifacts. All it takes is the right container.

Luckily for you, you’re probably holding it right now.

A traditional Tibetan village on a steep hillside between Tagong and Danba County, within the Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, Sichuan, China.

[1]: Apple Notes works great for me because it’s simple to use, works offline, and supports multi-media embedding quite well. It’s perfect for on-the-go documentation. However, this style of travel journaling should work in many different note-taking apps, so it shouldn't matter what kind of phone you have.

[2]: An important disclaimer: although it was a straightforward process, it was time consuming. Which meant more time on my phone and less time soaking in my surroundings. There's a tension here and sometimes it was out of balance. Planning for enough time at the end of the day (~ 1 hour) worked best.