Neurodivergent Travel Stories

Story 1: Michael’s Story and Finding Calm and Space as an Autistic Traveler

Unlike some travelers who grow up knowing they experience the world differently, Michael spent most of his life traveling without the language to explain why certain parts of the journey felt so difficult.

He was formally diagnosed as autistic in 2024.

Looking back, many of the things that made travel stressful suddenly made sense.

Before his diagnosis, Michael had already traveled extensively. Much of it was done solo, including international trips and flights across continents. At the time, he simply assumed that the stress he experienced was part of the normal chaos of travel.

But in hindsight, it was something more specific.

Airports were overwhelming. Crowds felt suffocating. Noise and constant movement could push his sensory system to its limits.

And yet, despite those challenges, Michael has always loved visiting new places.

A man with curly hair and glasses gently holds a sloth draped over his shoulder and the sloth being fed a leaf. The quiet interaction inside a shaded shelter reflects a calm, grounding moment during his travels.

The Excitement of Travel — and the Stress That Comes With It

For Michael, the idea of traveling is exciting.

But that excitement always comes with an undercurrent of stress and apprehension.

It is not necessarily instant overwhelm. Instead, it is the knowledge that certain parts of the journey will be difficult and that preparation is essential.

He cannot simply decide to travel on short notice.

Michael needs time to prepare, both practically and mentally. Rushed planning makes travel significantly harder to manage, so giving himself space to get ready is a crucial part of the process.

The most difficult part of travel for him is air travel.

From the moment he arrives at the airport until the moment he reaches his destination, the experience is something he largely has to endure rather than enjoy.

Too many people. Too much noise. Too many unpredictable elements.

But once he arrives somewhere quieter, the experience can shift dramatically.

Finding Comfort Deep in the Amazon

Some of Michael’s most meaningful travel experiences have taken place far from cities.

Over the years, he has traveled several times to South America for spiritual retreats in the Amazon rainforest. Most of those trips happened before his diagnosis in 2024, when he did not yet understand why certain environments felt so overwhelming.

A group of Indigenous people, including children and adults, gather inside a large open wooden structure performing a traditional dance with sticks. The communal rhythm and movement highlight a moment of cultural connection experienced during the journey.

Getting there was not easy.

The airports, crowded streets, and constant sensory input could make the journey extremely stressful.

But the destination changed everything.

The retreat lodge sits about 30 to 45 minutes outside the city by riverboat, surrounded by rainforest on one side and the river on the other.

There are no bright lights.

No constant traffic.

Just the sounds of the jungle.

A wide river flows past dense green rainforest with tall trees and thick vegetation lining the banks. The still water and lush surroundings create a peaceful, expansive scene that invites reflection.

Even more important than the setting is the culture of the retreat itself.

Guests are encouraged to be mindful of each other’s needs and personal space. That shared understanding creates an environment where people can quietly step away, take space, or ask for what they need without judgment.

For Michael, that kind of environment makes it possible to truly settle into the experience.

A Road Trip Built on Understanding

One of Michael’s most positive travel experiences happened more recently.

In 2024, after receiving his diagnosis, he took a two-week road trip from Florida to Maine with his brother.

The trip worked so well because his brother understood the challenges Michael faces as an autistic traveler.

He took on the driving, knowing that several aspects of driving can be stressful for Michael.

He also made a point to check in frequently about things like sensory overwhelm, sudden changes to the itinerary, or the need for downtime.

Most of the stops along the trip focused on quieter environments — national parks, state parks, and small local shops.

When they did visit busier cities, Michael’s brother made sure he had time to mentally prepare before entering those environments.

That level of understanding transformed the trip into something deeply enjoyable.

What the Ideal Travel Experience Would Look Like

If Michael could design the perfect travel experience, it would be calm, spacious, and unhurried.

There would be no long lines.

No rushing from place to place.

No jarring noises or crowded environments.

Transportation would be half full at most, whether by plane, car, bus, or boat.

Most destinations would be small towns, natural landscapes, or historical sites rather than densely populated cities.

There would be a general itinerary with semi-structured activities, balanced with plenty of time for quiet reflection and recovery.

And ideally, animals would be part of the experience as well.

A young orangutan with soft reddish fur sits on a wooden railing while holding and eating a leaf. The close, quiet encounter emphasizes a gentle and soothing connection with wildlife during the trip.

One of Michael’s dream trips is a narwhal expedition, the chance to see these remarkable Arctic animals in their natural habitat.

The Tools That Help Michael Navigate Travel

Like many neurodivergent travelers, Michael has developed a set of tools that help him manage sensory overwhelm while traveling.

Some of his essentials include:

• Noise canceling headphones
• Books or comics
• Small stimming objects such as bottle caps
• Personal items like necklaces or bracelets that provide tactile comfort

He also carries what he calls an emergency kit.

Inside are practical items that can solve unexpected problems quickly, including a small first aid kit, sewing supplies, and a portable power bank.

These items do not always get used, but when they are needed, they can make a stressful moment much easier to manage.

What Supportive Travelers Can Do

Michael emphasizes that many neurodivergent travelers are constantly monitoring their internal state while traveling.

They are paying attention to when sensory input becomes too much, when a break is needed, or when stepping away from a busy environment could prevent a meltdown.

For people traveling with neurodivergent friends or family members, small gestures of awareness can go a long way.

Sometimes the most helpful thing someone can do is simply check in.

A quiet “You good?” or “Need a break?” can create space for someone to speak up without drawing attention.

And perhaps most importantly, it helps to remember that the challenges neurodivergent travelers face may not always look significant from the outside.

But what seems small to one person can have a very real impact on someone else.

As Michael puts it, one of the most important things we can offer each other while traveling is simple:

Space and grace.