For someone who has been reading Tarot Cards for two decades, people often assume I use them to plan everything, my outfits, my meals, my travels, maybe even whether I should carry an umbrella.
Let me tell you a secret: I don’t use Tarot to plan my travels.
But here’s the truth: every trip I take is a Tarot reading.
Yes, really.
When I shuffle a deck for a client, I have no control over which cards will turn up. I can secretly hope for The Sun (joy, clarity, perfect selfie lighting!), but sometimes The Tower appears instead (delays, chaos, everything going wrong at once). And you know what? Both are perfect, because both are precisely what is needed at that moment.
Travel feels the same way.
The Fool’s Leap
The very first card of the Tarot is The Fool. It’s a card about stepping into the unknown with a heart full of trust. Every time I pack my suitcase, I feel like The Fool, not foolish, but free. There is something delicious about standing at the edge of a new journey, not knowing what’s waiting for you.
I am not a rigid planner. Sure, I will book flights and accommodation (I am adventurous, not reckless), but beyond that, I prefer to leave room for surprises.
Because it’s the unexpected moments that end up becoming my favorite memories.
Like that time in Goa when my “ten-minute evening walk” turned into a three-hour food trail guided by a local who insisted I try his grandmother’s prawn curry. Or that day in Europe when I got off at the wrong train station and stumbled upon a village that looked like a painting, cobblestone streets, flowers spilling from windowsills, and a bakery selling the best almond croissants of my life.
Those were my Fool card moments, the kind of adventures that can’t be put on an itinerary.
The Cards I Carry
Every traveler has their must-packs. Some can’t survive without portable chargers, some need a travel pillow, and some obsessively carry a mini pharmacy.
Me? Along with all of the above and my usual suspects, I always slip in a tiny Tarot deck. Not to read for others (I’m on vacation, after all!) but as a little ritual for myself.
Each morning, I pull a card, just the one. Some days I get The Star, and I spend the day looking for beauty, hope, and wonder, which usually ends with me watching a sunset somewhere quiet, feeling ridiculously poetic. Some days I pull The Chariot, and that somehow becomes the day I cover 12 km on foot, fueled entirely by curiosity and coffee.
This small ritual keeps me connected, not just to the place, but to myself. Travel can be disorienting, especially in a new country, but pulling a card reminds me that I am right where I am meant to be.
The Tarot Spread of Travel
Every trip, for me, is like laying out a Tarot spread; each day holds a new card, a new theme, a new lesson.
Day One is always my Magician Day; I arrive full of energy, curiosity, and enthusiasm. I want to see everything, taste everything, photograph everything.
Day Two usually feels like The Lovers, it’s when I start falling for the place, its quirks, its sounds, its little idiosyncrasies. By Day Three, I am usually deep into Temperance Mode. I slow down, find a rhythm, sip my drink of choice slowly, and let the city come to me instead of chasing it.
And almost always, my last day is my World Card Moment, that feeling of completion. The suitcases are packed, my photo gallery is full, and I have seen enough to feel like I “got” the place, yet not so much that I never want to come back.
The Tower Moments
Let’s talk about the dreaded Tower card.
In Tarot, it’s the card of sudden change, often uncomfortable, sometimes chaotic. It is not a card anyone “wants” but one that is always necessary.
Travel has its share of Tower moments, too. Flights get delayed. Luggage disappears. The sky decides to open up and pour on the very day you planned that perfect outdoor excursion.
In the moment, it feels frustrating. But when I look back, I realize those were the trips that shaped me the most. Those are the stories I tell with the loudest laugh. The missed bus that made me share a cab with a stranger who turned into a friend. A rainy day that forced me to spend hours in a tiny café, sipping hot chocolate and writing pages in my journal.
The Tower moments remind me that I am not in control, and that’s okay.
Reading the Journey Back
When I return home, I like to pull one last card, a sort of summary of what the trip gave me.
Sometimes it’s Strength, reminding me of the courage it took to try something new. Sometimes it’s The Moon, telling me I was meant to explore my own shadows and secrets on this trip. And sometimes, it’s The Sun, and I smile, because the joy I brought back feels as warm as that golden card.
Travel, like Tarot, always reflects to me where I am in life. It shows me my fears, my joys, my patterns, my growth.
And this is why, for me, travel will always be Tarot, a spread of possibilities, a dance of the known and the unknown, an invitation to trust the road, and, most importantly, to trust myself.
Whether I am on the road or at my reading table, the lesson is the same: Life is happening for me, not to me.
And that makes every journey, both on the map and within me, completely worth it.
This post is written for The Blogchatter Blog Hop, for which the theme is Travel
