How I manage sensory overload while traveling
...and even manage to enjoy the experience!
Travel writing as a lifestyle has long been romanticized. But as an anxious, ADHD, and autistic travel writer myself, I feel it’s my duty to share the not-so-glamorous, Instagram-vs-reality truth about my chosen profession: Traveling is an absolute sensory nightmare.
It’s taken me more than a decade of professional travel writing, but I finally managed to crack the code for the ideal sensory-friendly personal item packing list, which has helped me maintain a semblance of comfort and sanity through 10+ years of long-haul flights and lengthy layovers.
I’ve also learned exactly what to pack in a carry-on to accommodate my sensory issues and make traveling more comfortable for me for the entirety of each trip that I take away from home.
But beyond just packing well, there are plenty other of tried-and-true practical, actionable tips that I’ve found can make travel not just more manageable, but more enjoyable for anxious, AuDHD travelers with sensory issues like me.
So much of managing sensory overload comes down to preparation ahead of your trip
There are easy steps you can take ahead of your trip—bits of research you can do beforehand to avoid sensory-intensive situations that could otherwise lead to meltdowns.
Look into transportation options that might be less crowded or overwhelming to get you to and from your accommodations. Are you staying somewhere that might offer roundtrip airport transfers? Does Uber, Lyft, Sixt, or Bolt exist where you’re going, and if so, are you able to schedule a ride in advance? Are taxis a reliable mode of transportation to your destination, and if so, can you snag one after you land and then schedule a ride back to the airport on the day of your departure? Any of those options will be less stressful than landing in a new place and trying to navigate the local public transit after a long, brain-jumbling flight, so it’s ideal to make a plan ahead of time if you can.
Research sensory-friendly places in your destination. In case you need a break from bright lights or loud noises at any point during your trip, create a list of calm, quiet spaces you can escape to for moments of relief and zen. Think: museums, libraries, parks or trails, spas or baths, and quiet cafes. I like to save these in Google Maps so I can easily grab the directions to them when I’m feeling dysregulated, but you do you!
Use Google Street View to explore the area virtually. I nearly always do this with the hotel I’ll be staying in, so I know what sort of building and facade to look out for when I first arrive in a new place. Sometimes I’ll also do this with any attractions I know for certain that I’ll want to see during my stay so I don’t accidentally walk past them.
Besides, c’mon, isn’t this upcoming trip your current hyperfixation anyway? A little extra research and planning ahead of the experience ought to be dopamine city, if you’re anything like me!
On your actual travel day, it helps to head out the door already armed with your most crucial sensory accommodations
When I’m headed for overwhelming environments like airports, hotels, or city streets, I often find myself staring down the barrel of dysregulation. Knowing that, in order to get ahead of that and avoid melting down altogether, I try to prepare myself by:
Wearing sunglasses or a hat to reduce visual stimuli when walking around—or if I’m sitting still in a safe space, like on a flight or in my accommodations, wearing a sleep mask
Using earplugs or noise-canceling headphones so I can create a calm little auditory bubble for myself (pro tip: the Stress Relief playlist on Spotify slaps for this purpose)
Researching quiet areas ahead of time so I know where I can go if things get to be too much (does the airport have a yoga room or meditation space? can I pay for a pass to a lounge?) or looking up the least busy times to visit popular attractions (visiting the museum at 9 a.m. before the rest of the city is awake? sure, why not!)
And don’t forget: pack whatever you need to feel comfortable! The links I shared above to my own packing lists are a great starting point, but you’ll also want to personalize them to meet your specific needs as a neurodivergent traveler. Think about what makes you want to scream while navigating the world outside of your home and comfort zone. Do repetitive sounds make you want to tear your hair out? Bring noise-canceling headphones! Are you sensitive to certain foods? Pack safety snacks!
Swapping strict itineraries for ‘itinerary menus’ can make all the difference for travelers with sensory sensitivities
I’m 90% sure I just made this term up? But it perfectly describes how my (also neurodivergent) partner and I make our travel plans, whether we’re visiting a new place together or solo. Basically, instead of creating an itinerary in a timeline format, I create a menu of options to choose from each day with different sections:
TO EAT (this can be restaurants I’d like to visit or dishes/delicacies that the region is known for)
TO DRINK (either specific bars I want to check out or local beverages I know I’d like to try)
TO SEE (popular landmarks or well-known sight-seeing spots in the area that I’d feel silly missing during my trip)
TO DO (unique activities the destination is known for or that I might not be able to do somewhere else in the world)
I usually plop all of this info into an easy-to-access Note in my phone or a Google Doc first, then I transfer it into a Google Map so I can see where everything on my menu is in relation to where I am at any given moment during my travels.
From there, I’m able to wake up each day of my trip and evaluate how I’m feeling and how many things I think I have the capacity to do that day—then based on that, I can choose an item or two from each section of the menu and consider those my itinerary menu selections for the day.
This allows me to plan a general outline of my day with key activities I’m excited about, but still leaves space for rest or changes in plans if I find myself in sensory overload, helping me strike a balance between having a plan and embracing spontaneity.
And it means there’s always downtime in my schedule while traveling so I can rest, recharge, and avoid burnout. The last thing I need is to get home from this trip and feel like I need a vacation from my vacation!
Be clear and honest with others about how you’re feeling and what you need throughout your trip
In case nobody told you, you’re allowed to (in fact, I’d argue, you should) advocate for yourself and communicate your needs openly and honestly to others throughout your travels!
If you’re flying to your destination, touch base with the gate agents and flight attendants to let them know if you need extra time during boarding or if you have any specific sensory needs they could help with during your flight.
If you’re staying in a hotel, let the staff know in advance if you’d like a quieter room or any special accommodations within your space during your stay.
And if you’re traveling with a partner or friends, make sure you’re on the same page about your sensory needs, your bandwidth, and your goals for the trip (and ask them about theirs, too!) before you embark on your journey together to avoid any miscommunications or frustrations during your trip.
From experience, it fucking sucks to force yourself to smile and nod through sensory overload (that is, *if* it’s even possible for you to force yourself through it). You burn through all of your energy reserves trying not to be a burden on your fellow travelers, trying to make sure your sensory issues aren’t getting in the way of them having a good trip.
Think about it: if you knew that they were allowing themselves to be in sensory distress just to make sure you were having a good time, wouldn’t you feel awful? Wouldn’t you want them to do whatever they needed to manage their sensory needs and enjoy themselves in a way that actually feels good to them, even if it meant things didn’t quite go how you’d planned or hoped? Right! So why would you assume they’d feel any differently about you? They want you to have a good time as much as they want to have a good time. The more information you can give them about how to make both of those things possible, the better.
Trust me, it’s better just to give them a heads up ahead of time that you might need to dip out if, say, things at the museum get too crowded or overwhelming, rather than surprise them with that information in real time. If they know that’s a possibility before you go, they’re less likely to feel bummed or abandoned or what have you in case you find yourself approaching a meltdown. It’s way better for them to be aware that you may need to bail, and then be pleasantly surprised if you don’t end up needing to.
Your sensory needs matter and prioritizing them makes traveling better, not worse—even if that means saying no sometimes
The key here: Know, set, and stick to your boundaries.
This is really the only way to avoid sensory overwhelm and burnout during a trip.
I determine what I have the energy to do for the day, then once I’ve done that, I give myself downtime to recover without feeling guilty or like I “should” be out doing something. A few important ways I do that:
I prepare a few scripted options in the Notes app on my phone with polite ways to decline invitations or exit social situations early (for example: “Thank you so much for the invitation but I’m not able to make it. I hope you have a great time!” or “I’ve had a great time, but I’m going to head out. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening!”)
If I’m traveling with others, I let them know in advance what my signal or “safe word” will be if I need to excuse myself because I’m overstimulated or my social battery runs out (mine is usually “banana hammock,” because I’m a child)
Ultimately, I make an intentional effort to prioritize activities that align with my comfort zone and my goals for the trip at hand rather than feeling pressured to “do it all” while I’m away so I return home relaxed and refreshed after my travels end. JOMO, not FOMO!
Communicating your boundaries this way allows you to create travel experiences that works for your needs, your interests, and your energy levels—experiences that respect your boundaries and allow you to fully enjoy your adventures however feels right for you.
How else do you manage sensory overload while traveling?
What are some of your tips for traveling with autism, ADHD, or other neurodivergent conditions? What are some experiences you’ve had or lessons you’ve learned along the way? If you’re an avid traveler who’s also neurodivergent, I’d love to hear from you!