Growing up, my family was never particularly sentimental about things. We didn’t collect fridge magnets or display little figurines on shelves. Nobody I knew was ever the “souvenir type,” and those shops crammed with “I ♥ [insert destination]” trinkets felt like tourist traps designed to relieve you of your last few coins before the flight home. The only thing I ever really came back with was a sunburn and, occasionally, a braided anklet that I wore for three weeks before forgetting it ever existed.
That changed once I started travelling without my family. Having control over your own travels is liberating, exhilarating... and, weirdly, it’s made me care more than ever about what I bring back with me.
At first, I wasn’t sure if this new fascination with mementos was a sign of growing appreciation or just an attempt to justify my spending habits. “See? That weekend getaway was worth it. I got this mug!” But over time, something unexpected happened. A pattern emerged.
Across my last eight holidays, ranging from seaside staycations to European escapes, I’ve returned with the same thing, every single time: a new deck of playing cards.
They started appearing almost by accident. A set from the airport to make the most of a delayed flight. A ceramic set from Holland that caught my eye at a market. A sleek metallic deck from Switzerland that looked too good to leave behind. A birdwatching-themed pack from Berwick-upon-Tweed somehow ended up in my suitcase - though that one was, admittedly, the only choice available.
At some point, I realised it wasn’t just a souvenir collection - it had turned into a bit of a habit.
I used to think souvenirs were just clutter. Now, I understand they can be something much more...
My boyfriend and I found ourselves reaching for the cards almost instinctively. Waiting for dinner, killing time in a hotel room, winding down after a day of sightseeing - out came the deck. With friends or family, a casual hangout often turns into a games night. It’s worked its way into both our travels and our day-to-day lives.
Now, whenever we travel, tracking down a new deck has become part of the adventure. We’ve even started thinking about revisiting places just to find the perfect set we missed the first time around.
What I love most about this accidental collection is how personal it feels. These aren’t generic souvenirs bought out of obligation; they’re tied to a shared, quiet joy. They’re beautiful, functional and full of stories. Each one reminds me of a place explored, a memory made, a lazy afternoon spent playing cards on a train or terrace.
I used to think souvenirs were just clutter. Now, I understand they can be something much more, something that fits naturally into your life, something that tells a story only you would know.
So no, I still don’t want a shot glass with a city skyline on it. But a deck of playing cards? That, I’ll treasure.