NdukuOutLoud

Every other year, “travel more” somehow sneaks its way onto my resolutions list. You’d think by now I’d have a ready-made list of cities I dream about. But I don’t. Maybe I don’t actually want to travel; maybe I just want to want to travel. There’s a difference.

Part of the problem is that I’ve always fantasized about countries, not cities. I fall in love with the idea of a place long before I learn anything specific about it. Case in point: Croatia. I’ve been saying for years that I want to go-maybe even move -yet I only learned today that the capital city is Zagreb. Zagreb! How did I not know the capital of a country I’ve been romanticizing for half a decade?

But once I started looking, I found the city that actually speaks to me.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

The furthest thing from Zagreb-geographically and spiritually. A walled medieval city perched on the edge of the Adriatic, pebble beaches, terracotta rooftops, and that quiet, ancient dignity that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into another century. Dubrovnik feels like a place you don’t just visit; you wander into it and let it rearrange your sense of time.

It also feels like a metaphor for the kind of life I want: ancient, self-contained, protected by walls but open to the sea. A place that has survived centuries without losing losing its sense of self.

Then, Montego Bay.

This one is pure vibes. White-sand beaches, music in the air, and a culture that moves with a kind of ease I’ve always admired from afar. Jamaicans carry themselves with a confidence that feels like sunlight. Life there looks simple in the best way: wake up, walk on the beach, stumble into a party, dance, eat fruit, sleep, repeat. Maybe I’m romanticizing it. But isn’t that the whole point?

And maybe what I want isn’t Jamaica itself, but the version of me who could live like that- unhurried, sun-warmed, unbothered.

And then last but not least. Diani. Not a city, but definitely a place. And one I’ve already visited. Diani is soft, slow, and generous with its beauty -a coastline that feels like it’s exhaling. I want to go back, not because I missed anything, but because it felt like somewhere I could return to again and again and still find something new.

Maybe this list isn’t about travel at all. Maybe it’s about the kind of life I want to feel, and the selves I imagine in these places. Calm, curious, grounded, unhurried, sunlit.

Maybe the cities are just mirrors and the real journey is to inhabit those versions of myself, even without a plane ticket.