The Art of Staying

I was standing at the edge of the old town in Sozopol, Bulgaria — where the Black Sea laps against ancient stone foundations and seagulls call out like distant voices, carried by the wind. A group of tourists had just passed through, posing by the sea, each shot framed like a postcard.
They smiled, snapped, and were gone in under five minutes.
I stayed. Not because I was better — I’ve taken those photos too — but because I felt something I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t awe. It wasn’t even beauty. It was quiet. The kind of stillness that asks you to look, not just see. That moment changed the way I travel.
We live in an age of constant movement. Travel has become something to perform as much as to experience. But the irony is: in trying to capture everything, we often fail to live in the moment. We’ve learned to hunt for the “authentic,” yet rush right past it in search of better lighting.

But why do we do this? Why do we let the drive for the perfect shot dictate our experiences? Perhaps it’s because we’re more connected than ever. The rise of social media has created a constant pull for connection and validation. We’re encouraged to share, to perform, to be visible. And in doing so, we often trade depth for instant gratification. We rush past what’s real and meaningful because we’re conditioned to seek out what’s new or exciting — to click, post, and move on. But in that process, we lose the essence of what travel is truly about: the ability to be fully present in a place, without the need to perform.

Here’s what I believe — and what this magazine will stand for under my editorship: Travel isn’t just about the places you go. It’s about how you engage with them. About slowing down long enough to notice the cracks in the wall, the half-heard conversations, the scent that doesn’t exist anywhere else. It’s about being there in the most authentic sense, without the distraction of the next shot, the next place, the next moment.

As Editor-in-Chief, I’m not here to tell you where to go next. I’m here to help you see the world better when you get there — slower, deeper, and more honestly. My kind of travel journalism digs beneath the surface and asks: What does this place reveal when we take the time to listen? What do we carry home from it — beyond the photos?

The world is too rich, too complex, and too layered to experience on the surface. I’ll bring stories that matter. Stories that challenge. Stories that stay with you long after you’ve turned the page or closed the tab.