Look, we need to talk about gift-giving. Most of it is terrible.

Not the intention, the intention is usually fine. But the execution? Another candle. Another sweater they'll return. Another gift card that says "I care about you, but not enough to actually think about what you'd want." Even worse: the gift card to somewhere specific, which is just a chore with wrapping paper.

Here's what people actually want: to feel known. To be surprised. To have something to look forward to that isn't another Tuesday.

They want to go somewhere.

Not "somewhere" in the aspirational, someday-when-we-have-time sense. Somewhere real. With a date. With a plan. With that particular flutter of anticipation that only comes from knowing you're about to step into a different version of your life, even if just for a weekend.

The Secret: Anticipation Is the Gift

Here's what most people get wrong about travel: they think the trip is the thing. The week in Greece. The long weekend in Montreal. The safari in Tanzania.

But that's not actually where the magic lives.

The magic lives in the eight weeks before you leave, when you're reading about the neighborhood where you'll stay. When you're learning how to say "thank you" in the local language. When you check the weather obsessively even though you're not leaving for two months. When every coffee break becomes an excuse to look at photos of where you're going.

That anticipation, that slow build, is often better than the trip itself. The trip has jet lag and wrong turns and restaurants that looked better online. The anticipation is perfect. It's uncomplicated. It's yours.

Research proves this isn't just romantic thinking. Studies on vacation happiness show that people experience their highest levels of joy not during the trip itself, but in the weeks and months leading up to it. The planning phase, the daydreaming, the countdown. That's where the real boost in happiness lives. After returning home, most people's happiness levels return to baseline relatively quickly. But the anticipation? That can last for months.

And when you gift someone travel, you're not just giving them a week somewhere else. You're giving them months of something to look forward to. Something that makes the regular days feel lighter because there's this other thing shimmering on the horizon.

You're giving them a future they can taste.

I'm writing this with a glass of wine we brought back from Africa a few weeks ago, which might explain why I'm being sassy about your gift-giving habits. But also: this bottle is its own kind of gift. Every time we open something we carried home, we're back there. The vineyard in Stellenbosch. The light at that hour. The conversation we had over lunch. The trip extends itself forward in time, in small, perfect moments. That's the other side of travel. It doesn't just give you something to look forward to. It gives you something to remember, tangibly, long after you've unpacked.

The Difference Between Telling and Giving

There's gifting a trip, and then there's gifting a trip.

You could just tell someone. "Hey, we're going to Portugal in March." Fine. Serviceable. About as romantic as scheduling a dentist appointment.

Or you could make it an event. A reveal. A night that becomes part of the story you'll tell about the trip itself.

My husband and I do this thing we call Passport Dates: trips that require leaving the country, which means planning, which means anticipation, which means we get to live in that delicious space between deciding and departing. And we never just book the flights and call it done. We make a night of it.

We'll mix a proper caipirinha if Brazil's on the menu. Pull up a documentary about Japanese train culture. Work a puzzle of the Swiss Alps while coordinates to our hotel sit in a sealed envelope on the table. By the time we reveal where we're actually going, we've already started traveling. We're already there in our minds, tasting it, imagining it.

The destination matters, obviously. But the ritual, the ceremony of it, that's what transforms a transaction into a memory. And it kicks off the anticipation immediately. The countdown starts that night, not when you board the plane.

DIY or Leave It to the Professionals (That's Me)

You can absolutely do this yourself. Get creative. A few ideas:

The Puzzle Reveal: Buy a puzzle of your destination. Work it together over wine. When it's nearly complete, slip the booking confirmation underneath the final piece.

The Tasting Menu: Cook a meal from the region. Serve it with a cocktail from the city. Halfway through dessert, hand over an envelope with the itinerary inside.

The Scavenger Hunt: Leave clues around the house: a postcard, a phrase in the local language, a photo of the destination landmark. Make them work for it a little. Let the anticipation build with every clue.

The Useful Gift: If people need something to physically unwrap (and most do), give them something they'll use on the trip. A safari hat for Tanzania. Proper winter gloves for Iceland. A leather journal for wherever. Then attach the itinerary as a "user's manual."

But here's the thing: I can also do this for you. Not just book the trip (though I do that, obviously) but help you orchestrate the whole reveal. The presentation. The moment. Because I've done this in a dozen countries, for every kind of trip, and I know what works. I also know that sometimes you want the surprise to be airtight, and doing it yourself risks spoiling the whole thing when they see the Google search history.

I'm American. My husband is Turkish. Between us, we've figured out how to move through the world in a way that's intentional, not haphazard. And that's what I help people do: travel like you mean it. And I help you give them that anticipation, that thing to dream about, from the moment they open the gift.

Any Budget, Any Destination

This works whether you're gifting a night at a boutique hotel two hours away or a two-week adventure through South America. It scales. A weekend in a neighboring city still deserves the ceremony. A flight across an ocean definitely does.

The point isn't the price tag. It's that you thought about what they'd love, made it real, and gave them something to count down to. Something that makes January feel less gray because March has a plane ticket in it.

For the Person Who Doesn't Know What They Want

If you're reading this and thinking, "Gosh, I wish someone would give me a trip instead of another thing I have to find space for," send this to them. Give them permission to tell people what you actually want. It's not rude. It's efficient. It's kind, even.

And if you're the person trying to figure out what to give someone who has everything, or nothing, or just a closet full of stuff they don't use, this is it. Give them a reason to check their passport expiration date. Give them something to count down to. Give them weeks of anticipation that start the moment you hand them that envelope, that puzzle piece, that perfectly chosen gift they'll pack in their suitcase.

Give them the gift of going.

Ready to plan something?
I'm your co-conspirator. Let's make it happen.
Reach out: info@passportdates.eu | passportdates.eu
Passport Dates

Give them the gift of going.