By News18
In the winter of 2024, a 26-year-old graphic designer named Rhea left Mumbai with nothing but a backpack, two unread books, and a single train ticket to Himachal Pradesh. No return date. No agenda. Just a note on her phone that said: 鈥淏reathe.鈥
She ended up in Jibhi, a tiny village with wooden cabins, pine forests, and spotty mobile signal. For six days, she did nothing that Instagram would consider content-worthy.
She walked barefoot on dewy grass. She brewed her own tulsi chai every morning. She read Kafka on the Shore by a window that looked out to a sleepy river. She didn鈥檛 post a single story.
And when she came back, she told everyone it was the best trip of her life.
The Great Slowdown
Rhea isn鈥檛 alone. Across cities, from Bengaluru to Guwahati, Pune to Pondicherry 鈥 a quiet revolution is taking place. Young Indian travellers, particularly Gen Z, are turning their backs on chaotic itineraries, nightlife loops, and TikTok-friendly checklists.
They are choosing to travel not to be seen but to disappear, momentarily, from the noise of life. This isn鈥檛 about 鈥渙ffbeat destinations鈥 anymore.
This is a deeper, more internal detour. A form of quiet travel that values presence over performance, pauses over plans, and stillness over stimulation.
It鈥檚 the opposite of everything that the old travel influencers glorified.
But Why Now?
It starts with a simple truth: we are tired. Not just physically, but sensorially exhausted. The generation that grew up glued to screens is now yearning to log off 鈥 not just from devices, but from the pressure of always being 鈥渙n.鈥
The brain, according to researchers at the American Psychological Association, wasn鈥檛 designed for this constant overload. It craves silence. It needs long, empty stretches of time to heal. And no, binge-watching shows with one eye on your phone doesn鈥檛 count.
That鈥檚 where quiet travel comes in not as a vacation, but as a return. Return to nature. Return to self. Return to meaning.
Solitude, With Intention
Here鈥檚 where science backs the instinct. A 2019 study from the Journal of Environmental Psychology found that people who spent just two hours a week in natural environments reported significantly higher well-being than those who didn鈥檛. Forests, mountains, and water bodies literally recalibrate our nervous systems.
Another study, published by the National Institutes of Health, points out that 鈥渘ature immersion鈥 reduces cortisol levels, improves memory function, and boosts mood regulation. No wonder forest cabins and riverside cottages have become the new bucket list.
But it鈥檚 not just about where you go. It鈥檚 about how you travel. You travel slow. You eat what the locals cook. You sit in silence, not boredom. You trade schedules for serendipity. And in that stillness, something shifts.
A Very Indian Awakening
India, ironically, has always had this wisdom. Our landscapes diverse, dense, dramatic have never needed filters. Our traditions from Vipassana retreats to chai breaks under banyan trees have always valued pause.
But somehow, modern Indian tourism lost that plot. Mass tourism invaded every serene space: Manali became mini-Gurgaon, Lonavala turned into a drive-in party zone, and every sunset point started selling overpriced momos.
Yet now, the tide is turning. Places like Tirthan Valley, Agumbe, Majuli, and Pelling are quietly witnessing a new kind of visitor. One who doesn鈥檛 want a DJ night or a jacuzzi.
One who is happy with a warm cup of lemongrass tea, a hammock, and a journal. It鈥檚 not about escape anymore. It鈥檚 about connection with self, with land, with time.
The Gen Z Touch
This shift is particularly visible among Gen Z Indians, the 18 to 30-year-olds shaped by COVID lockdowns, climate anxiety, and digital burnout. They鈥檙e not just travelling differently; they鈥檙e living differently.
They鈥檙e the therapy-literate generation. The ones who use words like 鈥渂oundaries鈥 and 鈥渄opamine detox鈥 unironically. For them, travel isn鈥檛 about flaunting, it鈥檚 about feeling. Not ticking off, but tuning in.
Ask anyone who鈥檚 taken a silent trip to Gokarna鈥檚 lesser-known beaches, or stayed in a Kodai farm with no electricity they鈥檒l tell you. It鈥檚 not the sights they remember, it鈥檚 the stillness.
Quiet travel, to them, is rebellion. Against noise. Against performative luxury. Against the capitalist idea that rest must be earned.
But Is It Just A Trend?
Not quite. Unlike influencer-led fads, this movement isn鈥檛 flashy. It鈥檚 organic, quiet, and deeply personal. And yet, its impact is wide.
Travel platforms like NotOnMap, AirBnB India, and Zostel are reporting a surge in single-location, longer-duration bookings among users under 35. Train bookings for slow, scenic routes (like the Nilgiri Mountain Railway) are trending higher on IRCTC.
Even wellness retreats in Uttarakhand and Kerala are revamping to include 鈥渟ilent mornings鈥 and 鈥渟creen-free evenings.鈥 Something is shifting. And it鈥檚 not just about aesthetic. It鈥檚 about emotional economics.
Why It Matters in India
For Indian travellers, the stakes are higher. We don鈥檛 just need rest鈥攚e need recovery. The average urban Indian deals with:
90-minute one-way commutes
8+ hours of screen exposure
Rising air and noise pollution
Little to no mental health infrastructure
Quiet travel, in this context, isn鈥檛 indulgence. It鈥檚 necessity. It鈥檚 the chance to breathe deeply without pollutant alerts. To hear birds instead of horns. To wake up without checking WhatsApp. To taste food that isn鈥檛 a delivery app鈥檚 afterthought.
It鈥檚 also a sustainable choice. In a country battling overtourism and ecological degradation, quiet travel supports local communities, low-footprint accommodations, and conscious consumption. It鈥檚 better for you. It鈥檚 better for India.
The New Travel Story
Back in Jibhi, Rhea came home and opened her journal to write something she hadn鈥檛 felt in months:
鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to go viral. I want to feel alive.鈥 That, perhaps, is the core of this movement.
Quiet travel isn鈥檛 about switching off entirely. It鈥檚 about switching on鈥攜our senses, your awareness, your inner rhythm. It鈥檚 about choosing meaning over momentum.
Depth over drama. Stillness over spectacle. And maybe, just maybe, it鈥檚 about remembering that the most beautiful journeys are not the loudest ones鈥攂ut the ones where you finally hear your own voice again.