The Art of Taking a Long (boozy)Lunch

Family time at Cocon Cellar Restaurant, Dolomites

Can I tell you something? I think we've forgotten how to properly disappear in the middle of the day...

Lean in, because I'm about to tell you something that might change how you travel forever. The best part of any trip isn't the museum you rushed through or the landmark you ticked off your list. It's that afternoon when you accidentally stayed at lunch for hours, ordered another bottle of wine ‘just to try it,’ and watched the light change across whatever beautiful place you'd found yourself in.

I know, I know. We're all supposed to be maximising our experiences, optimising our itineraries, getting the most bang for our travel buck. But here's my little secret: the most luxurious thing you can do while traveling is absolutely nothing productive for an entire afternoon.

We've somehow convinced ourselves that a good lunch is twenty minutes and efficient. That sitting for hours is wasteful. That ordering wine in the middle of the day is slightly scandalous. But what if I told you that the long, boozy lunch is actually one of travel's greatest pleasures? And we're all missing it because we're too busy being productive tourists.

The art of the long lunch isn't only about the food, though it's usually extraordinary. It's about permission to let time stretch like warm honey. It's about discovering that three hours can pass in what feels like twenty minutes when you're properly engaged with a place, the people, the moment itself.

Some destinations understand this in their bones. The Greeks have been perfecting it for centuries. The French wrote the handbook on it, especially in provincial towns where lunch still stops time. Italy treats it like a religious ceremony, particularly in the south where meals are approached with the kind of unhurried precision that makes you realise how frantic normal eating has become.

But here's what you're actually buying with that long lunch: immunity from the tyranny of the itinerary. Permission to be spontaneous. The radical luxury of boredom, which is when the best travel discoveries actually happen. You might find yourself drawn into conversations that completely change your perspective on a place. You might notice details you'd never see while rushing between places. You might just spend some extra special moments with the people you love.

Lunch with my beautiful Mumma at Glenarty Road, Western Australia

The rules are beautifully simple: start anywhere between noon and 2 PM. Order whatever catches your eye. When they ask if you want wine, say yes. Not because you're trying to get drunk in the middle of the day, but because wine (local wine) tells you a story of the place, the terroir, the people.

Then comes the magic - after you finish eating, don't leave. Order another glass. Maybe some cheese. Watch the other diners, let your mind wander to places it never gets to go when you're being efficient.

Something wonderful happens when you master the long lunch: you start travelling differently entirely. You book fewer activities. You choose accommodations based on their proximity to great restaurants rather than must-see attractions. You begin planning trips around meals instead of monuments. Your whole relationship with time shifts. Instead of cramming experiences into every available moment, you start creating space for impromptu experiences to find you. You can't book them, because they are unbookable.

Lunch with friends in a Boat Cave, Kimolos

MY DISCLAIMER: once you've properly mastered the art of the long, boozy lunch while travelling, your regular life will feel absurdly rushed. You'll find yourself looking at your home city with new eyes, seeking out places where you can recreate that same languid afternoon magic. This isn't necessarily a bad thing.

So here's what I'm giving you: permission to waste an entire afternoon. Permission to order that second bottle. Permission to let lunch become the main event instead of a pit stop between ‘real’ activities. Next time you're somewhere beautiful, find a restaurant where the locals eat. Order something you can't pronounce. Ask for the wine list. Then settle in like you've got nowhere else to be.

Because for those few hours, you don't.