Waiting in line to pose the same shot as all the others who have posted it on their feed? No way. What I adore is walking through a neighborhood I don’t even know the name of and catching a forgotten mural by surprise or noticing an elderly painter setting up in a corner street café. That’s the spirit of artistic traveling—it’s a sensory quest to uncover stories.
Art travel never means flying in to see the Mona Lisa and out again. Art travel means letting art guide your experience. In Lisbon, I remember walking through Alfama and realizing the entire neighborhood was a work of art. The tiles, the streetffiti, the sculptures hiding away in stairwells—it was all vibrant. That was when it hit me: Cities come alive through their artwork.
And I don't necessarily refer to painting. Performance, building design, textile design, food design—if it is a man-made expression and an expression of some sort, it fits the bill. The appreciative guest has another reality to contemplate. Not the reality peddled on touristy postcards but the reality spoken by brush and beat.
There are places that practically scream "art travel." One of them is Florence. But beyond the guidebook places, I've also found real substance in places like Oaxaca, whose weavers execute rugs with ancient stories. Or Melbourne, whose laneways punch you in the eye with attitude and color.
I had planned to stay in Berlin for a week and wound up remaining nearly a month. Every district had a different level of political statement—it was raw and occasionally shocking. The artwork was never "pretty"—but provocative and that's the idea.
Kyoto was the opposite. Slow and quiet and multi-layered. I took a small calligraphy course with a local teacher who knew barely any English. No problem. We spoke in ink.
Let's also not pretend like Instagram has had zero impact on how individuals do art traveling. I've seen firsthand how tourists organize their itineraries around geo-tagged street artwork or museum corners perfect to pose in front of for a selfie. Some call it a sellout. I don't. Visual storytelling is how individuals share inspiration now, and quite honestly it does highlight the oft-overlooked communities of artists.
If you wish to make your mural discovers and gallery visits evoke curiosity in the moment, spreading the word and enhancing your Instagram engagements can cause your visual narrative to go even further—particularly given the fact that more than 67% of travelers already plan part of their vacation around content on social media.
But don't make it superficial. I've seen students swap their sketch of a Naples backstreet and it resonated with so much more than some sterilized museum shot. Authenticity is still the key.
I don’t fly on a strict timeline but research the art DNA of a location before booking a flight. The local museums are a given, but I also extend my research to open studios, repurposed buildings as exhibition spaces, performance nights, tiny bookshops as zine central. These don’t show up on TripAdvisor but are the real riches.
One of the methods by which I've found entry is to contact schools of artwork or small groups in advance. They hold events which aren't posted on the internet. In Prague, I was invited to a student exhibition in a dark basement. Some of the best work I've ever seen was on paper tacked to a strand of string.
I've purchased artwork from street artists in Colombia and never regretted a single one. They were not inexpensive but not mass-produced rubbish either. I got to meet all the artists and learn their story and took the story with me back home.
The key to traveling with art is less about how many prints you buy and about whom you are supporting. In a tourist area, beware. Vendors are probably selling mass-produced stuff as "local." Whenever possible, however, visit the artist's studio. Ask questions. Stare someone in the eye. That moment of contact is more than the artwork itself is worth.
Not everyone has to bring a sketchbook but I do. I like to draw impressions rather than details. I pay closer attention as a consequence. Some record in a journal or with analog photographs. Some record audio. I have a friend who records 30 seconds of city noise in every city he visits. It is strange but strangely evocative.
I spent some of my short stay in Porto watching an elderly painter creating these tiny abstract masterpieces from local flower pigments. I joined in. My painting was hideous. The experience itself? Something I would never trade away to a bus tour.
The art of traveling has gone mainstream. No longer is it the preserve of the connoisseur of art history. All one has to do is to be curious and hungry to absorb more than sights to see. Art is everywhere - from the manner in which a village adorns its benches to the way dancers reinterpret tradition.
I've heard someone say, "I don’t understand art, so I avoid it." That it's like saying, "I don’t understand people and so I don’t talk to them." You don’t necessarily have to understand every interpretation. Just sense it. Let it hit you where it needs to.
Any journey where the primary focus is on experiencing, creating, or appreciating artistic expression—be it visual arts, performance, crafts, or even culinary artistry. It’s not about ticking boxes; it’s about emotional connection.
Absolutely not. You don’t have to be an artist to enjoy art. Think of it like food—you don’t have to be a chef to appreciate a good meal. All you need is interest and openness.
Start by avoiding the main tourist drag. Look up local art schools, community centers, and grassroots collectives. Use platforms like Instagram, but don’t rely solely on them. Talk to baristas, booksellers, or musicians—they usually know where the real magic is.
