How to Make Your Best Vacation Memories Last, According to Science

Illustration: Fabio Consoli

According to experts, science explains why some travel memories stick—and others float into oblivion. But you definitely have some control.

By Maggie Downs

Last winter I enjoyed a whirlwind adventure in Guatemala. Over a period of 12 days, I trekked through the jungle to watch the sunrise over the ancient Maya city of Tikal. I danced in the street during holiday parades. I even hiked to the summit of a volcano.

But looking back on that trip, what I remember most vividly is a sad New Year’s Eve in Guatemala City, at a hotel so soulless it could have been a witness protection safe house. Rather than a countdown to midnight, I counted down the hours until my departure at pre-coffee o’clock. 

Nothing notable happened during that overnight purgatory. Rather, the outsize role this bland hotel plays in my memories can be chalked up to a psychological principle called the recency effect.

Acatenango volcano in Guatemala just after sunrise – Photo credit: Maggie Downs

“The recency effect helps to explain our tendency to remember the ending portion of an event or sequence of events with far more clarity than the rest,” said Dr. Mary Poffenroth, biopsychologist and author of “Brave New You: Strategies, Tools, and Neurohacks to Live More Courageously Every Day.” She says the bias stems from our short-term memory’s inability to hold on to more than a small amount of information at once.

So while there’s no magic formula to craft lovely travel memories, the adage to “save the best for last” comes close. Whether you splurge on a swanky hotel for your last night, book tickets to an epic show just before you leave, or upgrade to business class for the flight home, harnessing the recency effect can turn a good trip into an unforgettable one.

Think of it like seeing Bruce Springsteen in concert. Sure, you might recall snippets of the first 23 songs in the Boss’s set list, but the encore rendition of “Born to Run” will likely be what ricochets around your head for days afterward. 

Crime novelist and screenwriter Lee Goldberg followed this approach intuitively during a recent family vacation through South Korea and Japan. Though unaware of recency as a psychological phenomenon, Goldberg instinctively knew he had to end the trip at a high point. For a grand finale, he planned a day at Tokyo’s teamLab Planets, an interactive art experience, which immerses visitors in surreal, large-scale spaces filled with shimmery water, mirrored floors and hanging gardens.

“Nobody wants to end on a downer—or even worse, let the trip peter out before it’s actually over. You want that travel orgasm at the end,” Goldberg said, making it abundantly clear I’ve been taking my trips all wrong. 

Goldberg, who has written more than 70 books, sees travel as yet another way to craft an unforgettable narrative.

“Isn’t traveling like telling yourself a story? There’s a beginning, middle and an end,” he said. “You know what you’re going in for, you have an idea of what to expect, and there are twists along the way. But ultimately you want the big payoff, the big finale.”

Dr. Stephanie L. Leal, director of the Neuroscience of Memory, Mood and Aging Lab at the University of California, Los Angeles, says that while you can strategically trigger the recency effect at a trip’s end, you can still aim for memorable moments all along the way. It’s sort of like spreading out dessert over every course.

“You may have multiple opportunities to create lasting memories throughout the trip by breaking it up into smaller chunks,” she said. “For example, my husband and I went to Italy and broke the trip up into three parts—Rome, Tuscany and the Amalfi Coast.” That way, they experienced multiple endings—and could collect more vivid memories from  each place.

Keep in mind that the recency effect can also backfire—as it did with me in Guatemala. Just ask Poffenroth, who vividly recalls a not-so-glamorous end of a trip to Panama. Gazing at the endless azure water as she strolled along a shore, she failed to notice a hole in the ground—until she stepped in it, breaking two toes and tearing a ligament in her ankle. That painful misstep eclipsed some of the happier moments she had on the islands.

Taboga Island in the Gulf of Panama – Photo credit: Craig Allen

“Ending an amazing trip with stressful flight delays, lost luggage or feeling unwell might be enough to overshadow the entire experience, resulting in a cognitive bias toward remembering the trip as draining instead of joyful,”  she said.

To avoid disproportionately spotlighting the final days, whether they’re good or bad, Poffenroth has created a ritual: She amplifies earlier days in a trip to keep her memories well-rounded. “I collect little bits and bobs that [will] remind me of that day: a metro ticket, a seashell, a cardboard drink coaster with a pub’s logo on it.”

Then, as she is packing on the last day, “I sift through all my little found treasures and spend a few moments recalling each one,” she said. “This gives me a sense of closure for that chapter of travel and makes the experience feel honored and special.”

This article originally appeared in The Wall Street Journal.