Between COVID and various economic downturns, the term “staycation” grew in popularity.

People need to take breaks from their daily lives and minimize the expense and anxiety of distance travel.

The verdict might still be out on whether staying at home or spending a weekend at a downtown hotel and walking a favorite route satisfies the itch to pamper oneself and clear one’s mind. Despite, the cost of air travel, the hassle of getting Real IDs and meeting other requirements, air travel in 2024 saw a record breaking year, both in demand and capacity.

Oddly enough, my favorite travel experience this year did not come from drinking cheap wine on a package tour or from navigating a new path to the ice machine at a fancy hotel. It came from HOSTING.

This type of planned break can’t be measured by eateries visited or Time-Out destinations checked off. The chance to fall in love with myself — through someone else’s eyes — is the attraction.

A friend of mine from the Empire State called at the end of January. We planned to have a marathon schmoozing session, but she surprised me with one of the topics ahe raised; coming to Chicago for a visit.

She is a scientist, a PhD. candidate from a smallish eastern university who I met through a mutual friend in a zoom talk I gave a few years ago. Her not unreasonable concern over the availability of jobs has only gotten more dramatic as Trump’s federal cuts have made agency sponsored research money non-existent.

“Would It be okay if I came out to Chicago? Maybe for a weekend in early March.”

I don’t know if she anticipated my response. It was beyond welcoming.

“I have a spare bedroom. It’s yours. I don’t think I’ve had a visitor in years.”

Between emails and texts, I pieced together her schedule; arriving late Saturday afternoon and leaving mid-afternoon Monday. I forwarded instructions for taking public transportation to a train stop a few minutes from where I live.

She had never been to Chi-town before and my planning instincts kicked in. I wanted to be a good host, providing patently local experiences that were budget friendly and respectful of the limited amount of time she’d be in town.

I set about researching music options along with free passes or excursions I could arrange as a library card holder. I also gave some thought to her love of reading.

Fortunately, the Old Town School of Folk Music was having a great bluegrass concert Sunday night. Easy to park nearby, near a favorite pizza place (How can you visit Chicago and not have pizza?), seating about four hundred. I’ve always considered it an extraordinary room to see and  hear great musicians.

Sam Bush and friends did not disappoint!

I planned on taking her to some downtown sites Monday (The Bean at Millennium Park, the Cultural Center, etc.) and sending her back to O’Hare on the Blue Line from the Loop.

Considering we had never met before, except on zoom calls, finding each other at the Belmont Station was remarkably easy.

On Saturday evening, we talked and drank red wine as we hung around my dining room table. We spent some time Sunday walking around Lincoln Park; the zoo and the Conservatory. All free!

I lingered in so many of the rooms and alcoves of the steel and glass greenhouse and marveled at the ferns and palms and otherworldly plants and wondered why I didn‘t spend more time on a bench there. So peaceful. Nature teaches us to be patient and enjoy the colors of the season.

Between the fine mandolin picking we witnessed at Old Town’s auditorium to sharing a slice of pizza to taking my new friend to the American Writer’s Museum, a largely unknown treasure, near the Fort Dearborn site, which honors the craft of writing and the legacy of greats that had ties to the city — I felt a strong urge to fall in love.

I realize the impulse might seem strange, being an AARP member and all, but there is nothing like the beginnings of a relationship for good vibes.

Certainly, you may want the object of your affection to like the same things you do, but there’s more to it. There’s something about the desire to introduce yourself to another person that makes you feel a spark for the things you love and things you love about yourself that constitute some sort of magic.

Hosting a visitor or giving yourself to any activity that leads you remember what you love about yourself is no small thing,