Terroir literally means the land and it referenced most often as the place based factors which impact the cultivation of grapes. But, it’s a concept that can extend beyond wine and sommeliers and also influence how we live and how we travel. 

Every place has a taste, personality, and spirit—organic qualities that make a community unique. Terroir is the story of soil and climate, yes—but also of people, parks, bakeries, sidewalks, and conversations. It’s the feeling you get when you slow down long enough to notice where you are.

Too often, we move through the world disconnected. We walk past people with earbuds in and eyes down. We hop into an Uber and stare at our screens. And when we travel—whether somewhere new or somewhere familiar—without taking time to honor the story of that location, we miss out.

We miss the terroir.

Business Travel Burnout: 

A few years ago, I began to feel burned out from work travel.

As a professional speaker, I’m grateful that my work connects me with people and organizations across the country. But in the gig economy, the gigs run the schedule. I don’t choose when I work. I say yes—and then I go.

Yes to airports.
Yes to hotel rooms.
Yes to conference rooms with florescent lights.

And with every yes, I miss something at home - birthdays, anniversaries, middle school dances, school plays, basketball games, chorus concerts.

Over time, I became more focused on what I was missing than what I was gaining by traveling to support our family. Something had to change.

One day, I turned to my husband, Brew, who runs our business office and handles booking outreach, and said, “I feel like I’m going from ballroom to ballroom. I’m worn out. And I feel sad and guilty for missing our kids’ big events.”

He was quiet for a moment. And I immediately regretted my words. In nearly all objective categories, I have the more desirable role. I travel. I stay in nice hotels. I eat great meals. I form new relationships. I share my story - and usually receive applause. Brew's work is steady and behind the scenes. He works from home, where connection happens through screens and phone calls. His role is essential - but often thankless.

When he finally spoke, he said:

“I love working together. I love the life we’ve built and the flexibility and income we’ve earned. But if we’re going to keep doing this, we both need to find ways to make it more enjoyable and sustainable for the long term.”

That conversation changed everything. And, for the past two years, we’ve been adjusting the dial.

For Brew, that means co-working with friends one day a week, spending more time on music, and occasionally traveling with me - or taking his own trips when I’m home.

For me, it means going beyond the ballroom. Yes, I’m there to keynote, workshop, or facilitate. That’s the job.

But if I have two extra hours, I can find a trail.
I can look for wildflowers.
I can spot a new bird.

No matter how urban the setting, I can almost always find a park or green space that feels alive and real. And, if I have three hours, I can find a locally owned bakery or a casual eatery and taste something that belongs to that place.

This simple shift - connecting with place - has transformed how I experience business travel. I return home less depleted and more fulfilled. Less resentful and more grateful. More ready to step back into family life with presence and energy.

I don’t know why it took me so long to apply a lesson hiking taught me years ago. When you’re exhausted, stressed, spent, and convinced you can’t take another step... look up! Stop staring at the repetitive rhythm of left shoe, right shoe. Look at the forest. The view. The plants and wildlife that make that place unique. Even the miserable weather that blocks the view and sends animals into hiding—it’s real. It’s part of the experience.

Talk to the hikers you pass. Engage. Learn. Remember that your obstacles are often small compared to someone else’s climb.

Take it from someone who has been utilitarian enough to hike 47 miles per day for 46 days. The goal in itself is not enough to propel you forward if you don’t have a connection to and appreciation for the people and place that surround you. 

For years, I’ve purchased carbon credits to offset the environmental impact of my flights. That matters. But I’ve learned that valuing the environment isn’t just about reducing negative impact. It’s also about honoring where you are. Sustainable travel isn’t only about what you avoid.

It’s about what you notice.
What you learn.
What you appreciate. It’s about recognizing the terroir of a place - and letting it change you.

Steps to Connect with Place

If you’re working on the road:

Talk to locals. Ask for recommendations. 

Find a park or trail and stretch your legs.

Visit a local café instead of a chain.

Try the taco or pizza or beer that only exists in that city.

Treasure hunt for a bird or shell or rock or plant or animal endemic to that region.

If you’re working from home:

Check in on a neighbor.

Work from a friend’s house.

Play music. Bake. Draw. Join improv. Start a tennis league. Volunteer.

Explore your local parks and trails.

Become a tourist in your own town.

Every community has its own terroir, its own beauty, flavor, edge, and even severity. And the more we embrace what makes a place unique - beautiful, delicious, gritty, or wild - the more resilient we become for the journey ahead.

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About the Author: Jennifer is an Adventurer, Author, Speaker, Entrepreneur and mom of two who has a Masters in Public Affairs and a husband that plays bluegrass. Her blog focuses on life as she experiences it with a focus on Outdoor Adventure, Business, Public Affairs, Family, and Faith. For information on booking Jennifer as a speaker for your next event, email brew@jenniferpharrdavis.com or call (615) 708-4301.