3 things I love about travel sketching

I’ve been carrying a sketchbook with me for years. On short weekend trips. On long journeys. On retreats I host. On solo days in cities where I don’t know anyone. Over the years, I've realised there are a few things which, to me, bring the magic of travel sketching.

1. It slows you down

The moment I open my sketchbook, I slow down. Instead of rushing from place to place, I actually take the time to sit down. To look around. To notice things I would have otherwise walked past.

The way light hits a doorway. The exact shade of shadow on a white wall. The small crack in a café table. When you sketch, you can’t rush. Even a quick drawing requires presence.

And that slowing down changes the entire experience of a place.

Sometimes I only draw one corner of a city in an afternoon. And that one corner stays with me more vividly than five monuments I quickly photographed.

2. It becomes a souvenir like no other

To me a sketchbook becomes a personal memory.

When I flip through old pages, I don’t just see drawings. I remember: The conversations I had with locals. The sounds around me. The smell of food from the kitchen nearby.

A photograph captures a moment. To me, a sketch captures the whole experience.

No one else has that souvenir. It’s completely yours.

3. It sparks conversations with curious strangers

This might be one of my favourite parts. The moment you start sketching in public, I can almost promise you: people get curious.

They look over your shoulder.They ask what you’re drawing.They tell you stories about the building you’re sketching.

When I first started sketching and painting in public, I felt super shy. I found it quite uncomfortable. I would try to find the most hidden corner possible, somewhere with the least amount of people who could “disturb” me. I just wanted to focus on my drawing without anyone watching.

But over the years, that changed. I slowly became more comfortable. And at some point, I actually started to enjoy the little conversations that naturally happen.

I’ve had spontaneous chats on Moroccan market squares, in Scandinavian cafés, and on Dutch train platforms — all because I opened a sketchbook.

It’s a conversation starter without even needing to speak the same language.

I once had a group of kids in Morocco trying very seriously to explain to me in Arabic that I was missing important details in the restaurant I was sketching. I didn’t understand a single word, obviously. But I understood the message. According to them, my drawing was incomplete.

We ended up laughing, pointing at the paper, adding extra lines together. What started as “criticism” turned into a really lovely interaction.

That’s the magic of it.

Those moments make you feel part of a place instead of just passing through it.

If you’ve ever been curious about trying this yourself, start small.

One page.A café.A bench in the park.

Open your sketchbook and see what happens.

You might be surprised.