I used to plan every step of a trip like a general preparing for war. Schedules. Maps. Backup maps for the backup maps, extra phone batteries, extra white cane in case Fauna got sick, you name it, I brought it with me. In my early days of traveling blind, I thought meticulous planning was the only way to reclaim the independence I’d lost along with my vision. And for a while, it worked.

But somewhere along the line, probably around the time I found myself sweating bullets because a bus schedule changed by three minutes—I realized something vital: the best moments happened when I veered off the itinerary. The real magic of travel lives in the unexpected. And yes, even—or maybe especially—for blind and low vision travelers.

Embracing the Joyful Chaos

Wandering isn’t aimlessness. It’s trust. It’s curiosity. It’s standing on a street corner, listening to the sounds around you, and letting your instincts (or, if you’re lucky, your guide dog) choose your next move.

Once in Sedona, I decided to ditch my planned trail and let Fauna lead. We ended up at a tiny, almost hidden coffee shop tucked between two towering red rock formations. The owner, a soft-spoken man who recognized Fauna’s harness and smiled knowingly, served us the richest coffee I’ve ever tasted and told stories of hiking the desert blindfolded to “sharpen his senses.” I’d have missed it entirely if I’d stuck to the script.

Another time in San Francisco, my carefully mapped route was blocked by construction. Rather than panic, I followed the sound of music—literally—and stumbled into a street festival. Within minutes, Fauna and I were purchasing tacos and eating them sitting next to  a kind stranger and soaking in a parade of colors I couldn’t see but could hear and feel through the laughter, drumbeats, and joyous chaos around me.

From Anxiety to Curiosity

For blind travelers, it’s natural to feel like you need to control every variable. It’s an armor against uncertainty. But too much control can suffocate the very experiences that make travel so transformational.

Wandering teaches you to shift from anxiety to curiosity. Instead of “What if I can’t find the restaurant?”, it becomes “I wonder what I’ll find instead.”

It’s not about abandoning safety—there’s still wisdom in carrying your ID, knowing basic landmarks, and having a rideshare app on standby. It’s about loosening the white-knuckle grip just enough to let magic sneak in, while still knowing where you are compaed to your hotel.

How to Wander Safely (and Brilliantly)

If the idea of “just seeing what happens” makes you break out in hives, don’t worry. Here’s how to ease into it:

• Set a loose perimeter. Choose a neighborhood or a few streets. You’re not trying to backpack across Europe blindfolded. Always be aware of safety though, and make sure to check with the concierge in your hotel or the front desk staff about great places to wander and explore.
• Use sound and smell as your compass. Music, food, bustling patios—follow your senses. They’re better guides than you think. Taking a few moments to soak in the world around you can give you a better sense of that new location you are visiting.  
• Let your guide dog lead (a little). Sometimes Fauna sniffs out open-air cafes and shady parks better than any GPS app. I will often wander in a new area and tell her to “find a seat” which instructs her to find me the nearest open seat. Then I will just hang around and listen to what is going on.
• Ask locals for one recommendation. One place they love—not the guidebook kind, the “if you live here, you know” kind. I can’t tell you the number of times I have been directed to some amazing food, a serene park or a cool museum to visit using this method.
• Carry backup. Have a charged phone, portable charger, and a rideshare app ready. Independence doesn’t mean stubbornness or recklessness.
• Stay open. The goal isn’t a perfect day. It’s an interesting day.

A New Kind of Masterpiece

Getting lost on purpose isn’t about finding something specific. It’s about the moments you could never have planned: the taste of unexpected coffee, the rhythm of a parade you didn’t know existed, the feeling of truly being part of a place instead of just visiting it.

Blind travel will always require creativity, patience, and a bit of grit. But it also grants a freedom sighted travelers often miss: the ability to experience the world beyond what you see—through touch, sound, scent, and intuition.

So next time you’re traveling? Throw the itinerary out—at least for an afternoon. Get gloriously, magnificently “lost.” You might just find something better than what you were looking for all along.

And if you stumble into a parade with tacos, save me a seat.

See you at the gate,
—Ted & Fauna 🐾🧳