Beating the time between the travels: Creating My Own Tropical Escape at Home

When I was younger, the months—or even years—between trips to somewhere warm, exotic, and tropical felt endless. I’d spend days dreaming of the next escape. That wait could feel like an eternity, especially as winter stretched on in Germany and the only palm trees in sight were the ones in travel brochures.

But as any true traveler knows, wanderlust is a persistent itch. If you can’t scratch it by hopping on a plane, you improvise! That’s exactly what I did in those in-between years, and looking back, I realize how much fun I had bridging the gap between adventures.

Bringing the Tropics Home

First up: the ambiance. I started collecting tropical plants—palms, ferns, and yes, even the odd banana plant! (To this day, I’m not sure if my tiny apartment was the right climate, but hey, it added to the vibe.) My living room slowly transformed into a mini jungle. Every corner had some greenery, and the air always felt a bit fresher.

But I didn’t stop there. I swapped out my old mail-order furniture for rattan racks, rattan chairs, and a bamboo coffee table. Even though I knew there wouldn’t be any mosquitoes buzzing around, I hung a mosquito net over my bed, just for the feeling of being somewhere far, far away. It was all about creating that illusion—waking up and, just for a moment, pretending I was in a beach hut on Bora Bora.

The walls? They became a gallery of memories and dreams. Masks from Asia, handwoven fans from the Philippines, wooden Tikis from French Polynesia, cannibal forks from Fiji, and batik hangings from Bali—all reminders of past journeys and promises of future ones. My sofa was covered with silky pillowcases from Thailand, each one evoking a memory of a bustling market or a sleepy village.

The River Isar: Munich’s Own Tropical Retreat

But nothing beats water when you’re dreaming of the tropics. Since I couldn’t teleport to the South Pacific, I did the next best thing: I made the River Isar my stand-in beach. If you’ve ever been to Munich in summer, you’ll know what I mean. The Isar, with its crystal-clear water and white pebbled banks, winds its way through the city like a secret paradise.

Every weekend, I’d hop on my bike and pedal south along the river. The further you go, the wilder and greener it gets. There are little islands in the middle of the river, hidden beaches where you can spread your towel, watch the current drift by, and almost—almost!—smell the ocean in the air. It wasn’t quite the South Pacific, but with a little imagination, it was close enough.

A Shortcut to the Far East: Munich’s Westpark

And here’s another trick I discovered to bridge the gap: a visit to Munich’s Westpark. If you ever want to beam yourself into far-off places without leaving the city, this is the spot. The Westpark is a green oasis with a little something magical tucked inside—pockets of Asia right in the heart of Bavaria.

There’s a stunning Thai Sala, a small temple shimmering with gold and intricate carvings, set by the water. In summer, you’ll sometimes find people picnicking nearby or even joining a Thai festival. Not far from there, you can wander over to the Nepalese Pagoda, an authentic, hand-carved wooden structure that looks like it was plucked straight from Kathmandu. And if you stroll a little further, you’ll find the Chinese Garden, with its peaceful pond, arched bridges, and pavilions—perfect for a quiet moment of zen.

I’d spend afternoons here, soaking up the scents of blooming flowers and incense, listening to the gentle splash of koi in the ponds, and letting my imagination take over. For a couple of hours, Munich melted away, and I could almost believe I was somewhere in Asia.

The Botanic Gardens: A Tropical Refuge in Winter

But what about those long, cold Bavarian winters, when even the Isar and Westpark are dusted with snow? Enter the Munich Botanic Gardens—a true lifesaver for the travel-hungry soul. When the city is grey and the days are short, I loved escaping into the glasshouses of the Botanischer Garten.

Step inside, and suddenly you’re enveloped in warm, humid air. There’s the lush Palm House, where towering palm trees reach for the glass ceiling, and banana plants unfurl their giant leaves overhead. Orchids and bromeliads in every color imaginable bloom along winding paths, and the rich, earthy scent of tropical soil transports you miles away from frosty Munich. Sometimes, I’d just sit on a bench, close my eyes, and listen to the trickle of water from a nearby fountain, convinced for a moment that I was back in Southeast Asia or on a Pacific island.

The Botanic Gardens were my go-to place when I needed a quick fix of green, sunlight, and that unmistakable tropical feeling—even if outside, the world was frozen.

Making the Wait Bearable

All these little tricks—turning my home into a tropical retreat, seeking out the hidden “beaches” of Munich, and wandering through the mini-Asia of Westpark—helped make the wait for the next big adventure a little shorter. And honestly, they made life in between trips a lot more enjoyable.

Now, looking back, I realize those “endless” waits were part of the journey, too. The anticipation, the preparation, and even the daydreaming are all woven into the tapestry of travel. Sometimes, creating your own paradise at home is just as rewarding as finding it on the other side of the world.

A Final Thought

Discussing all the amazing spots we can explore right at home might make those trips to other countries seem unnecessary, especially if we’ve learned to truly appreciate what we have around us.