5 Ways I Prep My Gut for Travel—Midlife Tips for Energy, Ease & Kefir: Next week, I’ll be swimming at sunrise, lounging in the shade with a book, and letting the restaurant menu decide what’s for dinner. My husband and two teens are coming too, and we’ve chosen half-board on purpose: no cooking, no tidying, no decision fatigue.
Social media? Paused.
Inbox? Ignored.
My body and mind need rest—and so does everyone I love.
But I don’t just hope rest will arrive. I prepare for it.
Because the key to travelling with ease, presence, and joy in midlife begins with how I care for my gut.
I used to think holidays meant stepping away from everything. That I’d “reset” somewhere between the sunbeds and Pastitsio (baked pasta dish with bechamel sauce and minced meat).
But rest doesn’t just appear—it has to be nurtured. And that nurturing starts in the gut.
Because when I feel bloated, tired, foggy—it’s harder to be present. Harder to laugh spontaneously. Harder to enjoy the slowness I’ve longed for.
So now, I prep my gut like I prep my passport: early, carefully, and with respect.
About four weeks out, I begin what I call the pre-holiday body kindness phase. Not a cleanse. Not a fix. A celebration of steadiness.
My go-to rituals:
This isn’t “wellness” as a trend. It’s wellness as remembrance: I want to feel whole, wherever I land.
Oh, and by the way I am leaving behind my broken fitbit and will have a tracker detox! I recently got a bit fed up with tracking every single thing!
Just waking up to breakfast I didn’t make and winding down over dinner I didn’t clear away.
It’s not indulgence—it’s well-earned ease. After years of list-making and snack prepping, this feels like a genuine shift.
It’s actually the first package holiday we’ve ever taken.
We used to stick to self-catering—having a kitchen gave us the freedom we needed when the kids were smaller.
No need to worry about restaurant manners or judgmental glances. Not that they were chaotic—it was just easier, calmer, more us.
This time? I love that someone else is cooking.
There’s less coordination, fewer decisions, and more room for actual connection.
We all get what we need—meals made, no pressure, and space to be together and have breathing room.
They’re older now—14 and 19—and we’ve all evolved how we travel.
They need time to do their thing, and I genuinely look forward to hanging out with them.
It feels relaxed. Shared. Like we’re all actually on holiday—not just tagging along while I run the show..
But I’ve become calmer—not because the work vanished, but because I’ve learned how to meet it better.
Breath first, then tackle the pile.
Reentry used to feel overwhelming—like I stepped from one mental to-do list straight into another.
Now it’s gentler. Not perfect, but less frantic.
Gut care is on autopilot. My nervous system knows the drill.
And if I remember lemon water or get a quick walk in, great. If not, that’s fine too.
Because I didn’t escape life—I brought my steadiness with me.
And I return feeling more like the woman I want to be.
If we have a late dinner (which, let’s be real—Mediterranean life loves a sunset meal), I’ll delay breakfast and start the next day with warm lemon water to support digestion and liver function. I call it “gut kindness,” not detox.
Also… I hold off on alcohol during the heat of the day.
Travel isn’t a break from my body.
It’s a way to thank it.
I no longer hope holidays will “fix me.”
I prep, I honour, I glow—before I even board the plane.
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