Escape the Chaos

A Traveler’s Guide to Sanity (and Sanity Checks)

2/3/20253 min read

city landscape photography during daytime
city landscape photography during daytime

Let’s face it—watching U.S. politics unfold these days is like watching a reality show where the contestants keep rewriting the rules, gaslighting the audience, and somehow, against all odds, avoiding elimination. If you thought Trump’s first administration was a political circus, the sequel is proving to be an even wilder ride—except instead of popcorn, we’re stress-eating Tums, and instead of an intermission, we get breaking news alerts every hour.

But fear not, weary Americans. There is an escape. And no, I’m not talking about doomsday bunkers or moving to Canada (though, honestly, REALLY tempting). I’m talking about real, rejuvenating, passport-required travel—the kind that temporarily liberates you from 24/7 political doomscrolling and reminds you that, yes, the world is still a big, beautiful place.

Destination: Lisbon, Portugal—Where Politics Are Quieter, and the Wine Flows Freely

Picture this: You’re strolling down a sun-drenched cobblestone street in Lisbon, the air scented with fresh pastries and salt from the nearby Atlantic. Around you, locals sip espresso at outdoor cafés, engaging in what appears to be actual, civilized conversation—no angry rants about stolen elections, no conspiracy theories about secret deep-state cabals. Just people… talking. Like normal human beings.

Now, Lisbon isn’t just a city; it’s a much-needed palate cleanser after the bitter aftertaste of American politics. Here, the biggest debate is whether Pastéis de Belém or Manteigaria serves the superior pastel de nata (spoiler: both are life-changing). The streets are lined with vibrant tiles, fado music drifts through the air, and most importantly, nobody is aggressively trying to argue that the moon landing was faked.

A Lesson in Perspective—From a Tram, No Less

Imagine an afternoon, where you find yourself on the iconic Tram 28, crammed between a tourist with a selfie stick and an elderly Portuguese woman who smells like lavender and wisdom. As you rattle through the city’s historic hills, you realize something profound: this tram, with its charmingly unpredictable stops, still operates with more grace and reliability than American democracy right now. And frankly, that’s saying something.

The Politics of Relaxation

Unlike the U.S., where political rage is practically a national pastime, Portugal has mastered the art of keeping things chill. The concept of “saudade”—a kind of beautiful longing—runs deep here, but so does the ability to sit back, enjoy a leisurely meal, and not let the world burn you out. And really, isn’t that what we all need? A break from the relentless outrage cycle? A reminder that life exists outside of Twitter/X?

A Few Travel Tips for Fellow Escapees
  1. Turn Off Your News Alerts – The U.S. will still be a mess when you get back. Take a break.

  2. Embrace the Slow Life – Meals in Portugal are meant to be enjoyed, not inhaled between panicked glances at your inbox.

  3. Try the Local Vinho Verde – It’s crisp, refreshing, and, unlike political discourse, won’t leave a bad taste in your mouth.

  4. Get Lost in the Alfama District – Wandering these winding streets is far more rewarding than spiraling down another debate about classified documents.

Final Thoughts: The U.S. Will Be Fine (Hopefully?)

Look, I’m not saying running away to Portugal will solve all our problems. But stepping outside the madness, even briefly, has a way of reminding you that the world is bigger than whatever scandal is trending back home. Travel doesn’t just offer an escape—it offers perspective, renewal, and, most importantly, a break from whatever latest dystopian development has taken over the headlines.

So, if you’re feeling politically exhausted, consider this your official invitation to pack your bags, turn off the news, and let Portugal restore your faith in something simple and beautiful—like custard tarts and ocean breezes.

Because let’s be honest: We could all use a little less political drama and a little more pastel de nata.