My travel companions – three fellow yoga teachers, albeit all younger than me in their 40s – were incredulous. We had just finished a heavy dim-sum lunch in Singapore’s Chinatown and while they plotted a plan of attack on Orchard Road, I said I would go back to the hotel, in the middle of a sunny day, to take a nap. “But we’re leaving tomorrow!” one said. “I thought you wanted those new sandals?” another argued. Both true. But then, I was also sleepy. And somehow, a nap made more sense than dragging myself through malls when I knew a sale was no longer enough to keep me awake.
If there’s anything I have learned from years of traveling for different reasons – from action-packed dive trips and whirlwind “12-cities-in-10-days!” tours to food coverage and cultural explorations in my day job as a writer – it’s that, really, you can only do so much before your body asks for a break, and your mind groans from fast-tracked sensory overload.