You might think that because I'm a writer, I'd be pretty good at journaling. Unfortunately, that's not always the case. I typically find myself journaling at the beginning of a trip, but then I drop off as the exhaustion starts to hit.

However, near the end of my trip around Europe, I discovered the beauty of voice notes. Instead of journaling in my room after a long day, I could pull out my phone and record a recap while walking back to my hotel.

This would have been helpful on particularly eventful days, like when I was in Paris attending the Summer Olympics.

The details are what keep memories alive, and on my next trip, I'm excited to document my travels even more precisely.

As an American, I'm in awe of the European rail system. Pay $40 to read on a train for a few hours and end up in another country? You can't beat it.

However, my previous European train experiences have always been in the offseason. Riding the trains in the summer was a whole different experience.

Of the 20+ long-distance trains I rode throughout the summer, almost all were delayed to some degree. To say this made for some headaches is an understatement.

For example, my travel day from Switzerland to Amsterdam went from a simple two-train excursion to a nightmarish six different trains, ultimately adding five hours to an already long travel day.

This happened because my connection was 20 minutes long and my train was 25 minutes late. Next time, I'll try to give myself at least half an hour between trains.

When I was in England, it was prime music-festival time — and the Brits sure know how to host a festival. However, it wasn't until some locals started listing the festivals they were attending that I even started to look into the details.

It turns out Hozier was playing down the street from where I was staying — on the day I was leaving. My travel arrangements weren't flexible, so I had to miss out on seeing one of my favorite artists (for a fraction of what his tickets cost in the States).

Next time I head across the pond, I'll be sure to do some research ahead of time about who is playing nearby.

Having a considerable sweet tooth, I knew I was in trouble when I was heading to England and France. From Victoria sponge cake and scones to macarons and eclairs, the temptations were everywhere.

And the other countries I visited didn't disappoint in their pastry offerings either.

Although I did indulge in the occasional sweet treat (particularly the kolaches in the Czech Republic), I convinced myself that I didn't need to splurge too often.

Now that I'm back in the States, I'm kicking myself for not sampling more of the local desserts. Food is a vital part of a country's culture, and desserts are a fairly inexpensive way to experience the locals' favorite recipes.

I'm not naturally a morning person, and I typically need a specific reason to get up early. On days I didn't have one, I often wouldn't be out and about until 10 or 11 a.m.

However, the morning I left Prague, I woke up before dawn to watch the sunrise on the iconic Charles Bridge. I was used to the bridge being packed with tourists, but at 7 a.m., I had the place to myself.

Although it's not my natural tendency, getting out on the streets in the early morning offers a completely different perspective of a city.

When I mapped out my trip to Scottsdale, I didn't realize how large the town was.

Downtown Scottsdale, Paradise Valley, and Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport are quite close together — 15 minutes or less by car, in my experience. However, I couldn't miss seeing the luxurious neighborhoods and fine dining in North Scottsdale.

When I booked my tours and reservations, I didn't realize North Scottsdale was about a 40-minute cab ride from the hub area.

I ended up traveling up and down Scottsdale multiple times a day. Next time, I'll plan to spend one full day in North Scottsdale to avoid wasting time and money on cabs.

For my spring trip to Scottsdale, I expected it to be warm, as the area is known to be throughout the year. So, I packed some cooling, quick-dry attire, like the Under Armour polo above, paired with pants made from a similar material.

It was warmer than I anticipated, and this dark navy outfit made me feel like a magnet to the sun.

The outfit was comfortable in the morning and evening, but I would have packed lighter-colored clothing if I had known I'd be battling 90-degree heat in the afternoons.

I also didn't realize that the heat in Scottsdale would feel drastically drier to me compared to the air I'm used to back home in New York.

I thought I could easily walk around all day in Scottsdale. I planned to spend most daylight hours exploring outdoors and walking from neighborhood to neighborhood. But I got dehydrated easily and ran through my 20-ounce plastic water bottle quickly.

Next time I visit Scottsdale in the spring, I'll pack a larger, insulated water bottle and break up outdoor activities in my itinerary with indoor ones to stay cool and hydrated.

Since I spent two nights in Scottsdale and Paradise Valley, I booked one night in each town.

I stayed at the Phoenician in Scottsdale, a 600-acre mega-resort with five pools, a three-story spa, and an 18-hole golf course.

I didn't save enough time in my itinerary for hanging out at the hotel.

I spent most of the day out and about, and by the time I got back to the Phoenician, I was too tired to sit down at the award-winning lobby bar or step into one of the pools.

Before I checked out in the morning, I had just enough time to explore the entire property on foot. I watched others play golf, tennis, and pickleball and longed for another night. This ended up being my biggest regret of the trip because I left feeling like I'd missed out.

After my stay, I realized that a mega-resort is worth the price only if I take advantage of all it has to offer. Since my trip was more about exploring Scottsdale than relaxing, there simply wasn't enough downtime to make it worth booking for just one night.

After getting a preview of the Phoenician's amenities, I'd love to stay again for at least two nights and plan to spend many waking hours there.

My bags weighed 31 pounds the night before my trip. Most of the small-plane bush flights I was about to board had weight restrictions of 33 pounds.

If I wanted any souvenirs, I'd be tight for space. I eyed what I could leave behind and initially considered ditching the pair of binoculars I had packed.

Ultimately, I took out a few pairs of shorts instead, a choice I'm thrilled I made. It's not guaranteed that your safari lodge will have binoculars for guests, but having a pair enhances the entire experience.

Sure, I got close to lions and elephants from my safari vehicle, but a pair of binoculars could showcase details — like whisker patterns, bird feathers, and skin textures — that I couldn't see from the car.

For future trips, I'll be investing in an even nicer pair — and making sure there's enough room in my bag.

A few days before my trip, I spoke with Meg van Niekerk to discuss my trip's final details. As a safari expert for Go2Africa, van Niekerk knows just what people need for a safari trip.

"Leave your perfume at home," she said. "Your DEET cream becomes your safari perfume."

DEET is the active ingredient in most bug sprays, so van Niekerk stressed that I should pack bug spray and sunscreen for my trip.

I was glad I did. The Serengeti sun was harsh, and even on shorter safari drives, I could feel my face burning. Meanwhile, bug spray gave me some added reassurance against malaria.

While some lodges provide bug spray and sunscreen, I was glad I didn't rely on others and packed my own.

Before spending a week in the Serengeti, I pictured long days in the sun, afternoons driving down dusty roads, arid climates, and sweat.

Thankfully, I was smart enough to check the region's weather, where lows dipped into the 50s.

As someone who hates the cold, I knew I'd need more than the tank tops and T-shirts I originally planned to pack.

For this trip, I made sure I had a sweater, puffer vest, lightweight button-downs, tank tops, T-shirts, shorts, pants, and rain gear.

I was thrilled I had options throughout the trip. Mornings and evenings in the bush are chilly, afternoons are scorching, and some afternoon showers also hit.

Having a variety of clothes for all temperatures and weather was key to being comfortable.

Packing layers was key to my successful safari wardrobe, but surprisingly, I didn't wear any of the light, long-sleeved shirts I packed.

That's because the temperatures changed drastically in the Serengeti. When it was chilly in the mornings, I needed heavier layers like jackets and sweaters. When the sun finally came up, it got hot quickly. Instead of wanting a tight, long-sleeved layer, I opted for looser button-downs.

Next time, I'd skip packing base layers altogether.

Everything I saw, read, and heard leading up to my safari trip emphasized the need to pack neutral colors.

Olives, tans, browns, and khakis were good. Blues and blacks were a no-go since those colors attract tsetse flies, which carry a sleeping sickness disease.

Meanwhile, bright colors can alarm and scare off animals.

As someone whose wardrobe consists of 80% black clothing, discovering this was a major stressor, and I ended up on a shopping spree before my trip.

But when I spoke to van Niekerk right before my trip, she reassured me that safari attire is much more casual and flexible than I had read online.

Her advice is to pack what you already own. Don't stress too much if you don't have a complete khaki-colored wardrobe. Instead, prioritize neutrals where you can. She added that you don't need to avoid colors completely.

Besides a walking safari, there was never a time when I felt like the color of my clothing would have impacted my trip or animal viewing. By the end, I regretted buying clothes I might not wear again.

"This might change your whole packing list, but I actually take a lot of dresses," van Niekerk said. "You want to be comfortable."

As we chatted via video, I eyed my packed bag. It was stuffed with hiking pants, sweat-wicking athletic shirts, and hefty khaki cargo pants.

My focus had been on packing clothes for the outdoors, but van Niekerk reminded me that much of a safari vacation involves a lot of lounging — you're often sitting in a safari vehicle or hanging at a lodge.

"People are dressing like they're rangers going into a park. You're on vacation," she said.

After our call, I swapped a few pairs of pants for a dress and squeezed in a pair of sandals. I'm glad I did.

While I did need closed-toe shoes for a walking safari, there were days when I only wore sandals. The same goes for my clothing. I did need some pieces designed for hiking, but most of the time, I could prioritize comfort.

If I were to pack again, I'd listen to van Niekerk even more with a packing list full of dresses and comfy clothes.

Tipping is the norm across most of Africa.

Travel agents and outlets like Go2Africa have outlined the standards of what to tip, so figuring out the currency and how much cash to bring wasn't difficult.

What I didn't know is that people prefer (and sometimes require) new, undamaged dollars.

When I landed in Tanzania and went to pay for my first taxi ride, the driver refused my $10 bill — it had a small tear in the middle.

For the rest of the trip, I sorted out my nicest dollars to give to lodge staff, safari guides, butlers, and drivers. When I landed in Uganda for the second portion of my trip, the guidelines were clear, "Please be aware that only post-2006 US Dollar bills are acceptable. Bills should be in excellent condition with no tears, stains or markings," my safari outfitters website said.

Next time, I'd make sure my bank was giving me new money for tips.

Thankfully, the lodges I stayed at had almost everything I needed. Most had reusable water bottles, bug spray, and sunscreen ready.

There were just a few small items I wish I had packed.

For example, I would have loved to have a reusable plastic straw. Safaris are bumpy rides, which means drinking out of a water bottle's open mouth was nearly impossible. A reusable straw would've allowed me to drink while we were on the move.

There were also a few times I used public restrooms — at airstrips and park entrances — where there wasn't toilet paper. A pack of tissues would've solved that problem.

The safari experience was much more casual than I anticipated.

Between the clothing and lodges stocking necessities, it was hard to make any significant packing mistakes.

For a future safari, I'll prioritize comfy clothes, packing new money, and having a reusable straw handy.

In the summer of 2015, I took a two-week-long road trip for the first time. Before heading out for the journey from Austin, Texas, to Napa Valley, California, and back, I headed to the grocery store and loaded up the cart with ingredients for meals I could make in the car — sliced bread, deli meats, cheeses, peanut butter, and jelly. And I couldn't forget pickles, mayo, tomatoes, and avocados to make the sandwiches more dynamic.

I imagined staying healthy by skipping fast-food joints to lather and stack these ingredients into custom delights.

But it looked better in my head.

Creating sandwiches on the road was stressful, and making a mess was all too easy. My hands shook as I spread mayo in a moving car. And resealing meats and cheeses to be airtight wasn't as simple as the packages claimed.

By the time I could eat my sandwiches, my hands and parts of the passenger seat were sticky. Since that trip, I have only packed ready-made "meals" for road trips, like protein bars and shakes.

For snacks, I stick to dry items like trail mix that aren't coated in dusty flavors.

If you're anything like me, caffeine on a road trip is a must.

However, I've taken off for several trips without my own source of energy handy. When this happens, I end up spending an additional $10-$20 per day at coffee shops.

Recently, I've avoided additional stops and expenses by packing MiO, a water flavor enhancer with vitamins and caffeine.

Adding caffeine to my water instead of downing a coffee also helps me stay hydrated.

Many of my road trip experiences took place in college, when energy was high and funds were tight.

My friends and I often prioritized covering as much ground as possible with the little bit of cash we had. This meant we spent 12 to 14 hours on the road some days.

Many of these hours were fun, but once the sun went down, so did the energy. Without a view or a sense of place in those later hours, it felt like we could have been driving anywhere.

In my experience, the nighttime road hours feel twice as long as the daylight hours. I would avoid spending more than two hours on the road after dark.

After a long day on the road, the last thing anyone wants to do is pitch a tent — especially in the dark.

In July 2017, I took a two-and-a-half-week road trip to national parks and monuments in Texas, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado.

The budget was extra tight, so we camped or slept in the car every night.

I remember arriving at our campsite outside Zion National Park in Utah. I don't remember how many hours we'd been on the road, but only the stars lit up the sky when I got out of the car.

I wanted to simply lie down and look up, but I had a shelter to pitch. Assembling a tent in the dark is challenging. Even with the car lights on for help, finding the right pieces to connect was difficult.

I'm not sure how long it took to pitch the tent that night, but I went to bed thinking I wouldn't put myself in the same situation again.

As a cusp millennial, I love to play the game of not using my phone to find food or rest stops and just relying on signs in the present moment.

Well, I used to love it.

The problem with this game is that I'm not only relying on signs to tell me what's coming up but also relying on my attention span, which can be shorter than a sentence.

So, how do you lose this game? You miss the sign that says, "This is the last gas station for 100 miles." I've done it more than once, and it sucks. I've never gotten stuck, but I've gotten close.

My best advice is to find other road games to pass the time and keep your phone handy.

When road-tripping from Austin, where I lived in college, the first and last days of a trip will likely just be getting in and out of Texas — Austin is in the middle of the gigantic state.

Because of this, my road trips in college were rushed. I'd travel as far as Oregon and visit as many as six national parks in less than three weeks.

I'm grateful that I've been able to experience so many different natural landscapes and environments around the US, but I don't feel like I've spent enough time in any of them to truly take in each setting.

Now, as an adult, I embrace slow travel.

When I take a road trip unrelated to work, I pick one or two places and stay awhile.

I added shower niches for storage and was thrilled with my design choices until I had my first shower and noticed water pooling in both shelves.

After a quick Google search, I realized the tiling at the bottom of a niche should be angled to let the water drain. I hadn't thought of this, and my contractor apparently hadn't either.

The niches aren't angled at all. Worse, they're in a part of the shower that gets especially wet.

They don't always dry between showers so, over time, water could seep through the tile and into the framing behind — which might eventually cause another mold problem.

During the design process, I had to select a grout to accompany my beautiful white-gray Carrara marble tiles.

At the time, I chose a light color thinking it would seamlessly match the tiles — it did. Unfortunately, it's also a dirt magnet in the high-foot-traffic area around the sink.

No amount of scrubbing has helped thus far and comparing it to the pristine tile under the vanity hurts my heart a bit. Next time, I'll go at least two shades darker with floor grout to help mask the unavoidable grime of this busy zone.

It took forever to find the perfect floating vanity with drawers and space for two sinks. At last, I imported a beautiful fluted piece from Italy.

While awaiting its arrival, my contractor roughed in the plumbing based on the standard height for vanities. It turns out my piece was not standard — its cutouts for pipes didn't match up with the now-installed plumbing lines.

Fortunately, we were able to cut out a notch in the back of each of the drawers to accommodate pipes. This was better than buying a new piece, but it added another 400 Canadian dollars to my budget.

Next time, I'd ensure my contractor had all the specs before mounting or installing anything.

Although I'd put a lot of thought into the placement of pot lights in the ceiling, I neglected to do the same with vanity lighting.

Instead of, say, three lights placed at eye level or two over the mirrors, I settled on just one placed between the two mirrors. This was, in part, to save money.

But one light doesn't provide nearly enough illumination when you're using the mirrors. (Just ask my teens!)

I don't really have enough room for three sconces, but I wish I 'd at least placed one above each mirror. I'm now sourcing new (hopefully cheap) sconces, which I'll also have to pay an electrician to install. Ouch.

When I discovered my existing window had to go, I knew I wanted to replace it with an industrial-style one complete with grilles running in a grid on the outside.

I could already picture the adorable piles of snow that would collect in the corners come December. Since I was so certain and so busy I ordered my window over the phone.

When the window arrived, I was shocked to find the grilles were between the sheets of glass. I'd never seen this design before, and it was definitely not my intended vibe.

It was a custom piece, so I couldn't return it. Instead, I focused on the positives: This was much cheaper and way easier to clean than the ones with grilles on the outside.

Since it's a small window, I've gotten used to it and even come to like it. But if ever I'm in a position to add windows to another room in my house, I'll spend more time and money to ensure I order the grilles on the outside.

When envisioning a safari, the image of a hot, sunny African day probably comes to mind. Although that's often the case, weather on safari can be unpredictable and have a huge impact on the overall experience.

South African winters — which last from around June through September — can be surprisingly cold, especially on early morning game drives. That's why I recommend bringing a warm jacket, hat, and gloves during these months.

The good news is that the best wildlife-viewing opportunities often occur in cooler weather. The lack of rain usually makes the animals easier to spot since scarce water forces them to gather around watering holes.

Self-driving in places like South Africa's Kruger National Park is a fantastic experience — if you know what you're doing.

For a first-timer, hiring a game ranger or opting for guided drives can be an invaluable experience. This is because these guides are wildlife experts trained to spot animals the average viewer may not notice by themselves.

Countless times, I've had rangers spot big cats and even elephants that I would've driven right past because they were camouflaged with the trees. I've learned plenty about the terrain, animal behavior, and history of the park from these guides.

Private reserves are protected wildlife areas owned by individuals or organizations. They usually offer the same wildlife-viewing options as national parks, but a few key differences can make going private a better option.

In some reserves, rangers are allowed to drive off-road to get you closer to the action, whether that's a pride of lions or a herd of elephants.

You're also less likely to encounter large crowds at a private reserve. For example, in some popular national parks, it's not unusual to find 10 or more vehicles jostling for a view of an animal sighting. However, in private reserves, the number of vehicles is limited.

The catch is, of course, that private reserves are more expensive. But in my opinion, the intimate and exclusive experience is well worth the extra cost, especially for a first-time safari-goer.

Before my first safari, I didn't give much thought to the smaller animals. I was focused on the Big Five — lions, leopards, rhinos, elephants, and buffalo.

But one of the unexpected joys of safari is witnessing the incredible variety of smaller creatures that call Africa home.

For example, Africa is a birder's paradise, and even if you don't consider yourself a bird enthusiast, it's hard not to get caught up in the excitement.

Some of the less-famous animals — like wild dogs, cheetahs, servals, and hyenas — are stunning to see, too.

People often underestimate the importance of a pair of binoculars.

The guide will typically have a pair and offer to let you have a look, but that typically means sharing with five other people who are all trying to check out the same thing.

When you board the safari vehicle, you'll usually have a chance to chat with your ranger beforehand. If it's your first time, let them know.

If your guide thinks you've seen the "everyday" stuff, they might whizz past zebras or skip talking about some basic animal behaviors and fun facts.

However, for a first-timer, these are magical and exciting experiences. If you let them know you're new to this, game rangers will usually want to make your first time as memorable as possible.