Vacation, all I ever wanted...

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted…

Yes, that’s an 80's tune by The Go-Go’s. I’m definitely dating myself, but I thought it was a fun way to start this post.

I recently returned from Recovery Unbroken’s second retreat in the beautiful desert landscapes of Scottsdale and Sedona, Arizona. To say it was an enjoyable and fun getaway would be an understatement. It was all that—and it was healing. This marked my fifth vacation completely sober (I’m nearly two and a half years sober at the time of this post), and sharing it with 10 fellow RU members made it even more meaningful. We usually meet three times a week on Zoom, but in person just hits differently.

We connected poolside under sunny skies and warm desert temps, catching up and talking about the weekend’s events, which included a day trip to Sedona, a sound bath, and a powerful sweat lodge experience.

Vacations of The Past:

In the past, vacations started the night before departure—cracking beers while packing, my excitement rising with every drink. Hungover on a travel day? No big deal. I was going on vacation, right?

A beer or two at the airport to “level out,” a few more on the plane—after all, vacation mode had kicked in. Then, arrival. Game on. Stock the fridge with beers for the night anyway, throw on sandals and a swimsuit, and head straight for the pool or beach bar. Then dinner and drinks. Then a club or bar to round out the night. The next day? Hungover. Sleeping in. Foggy. Dragging through some touristy activity while sipping beers that didn’t really help—just numbed the edges.

The next few vacation days, in search of that buzz? Elusive. A few hours of “fun” followed by a crashing wave of exhaustion and regret. After a few days, I’d start to wonder: Am I even enjoying this?

Sure, parts of it were fun. The escape, the letting go. But most of the time, my body and mind were in survival mode—trying desperately to recover. Returning home was the worst. I’d feel wrecked, repulsed by alcohol, and overwhelmed by the return to routine. I’d lie and say it was a “great vacation.” But the hangover anxiety lingered for days.

Five Sober Vacations:

Now, five vacations into sobriety, the experience is completely different. Here's a quick recap:

1. Mammoth Lakes, California – My first sober trip. A regular vacation spot for me. I felt cheated without the usual drinking routine. The activities were great—skiing, hiking, lake time—but evenings were triggering. It was tough.
2. Michigan – Visiting relatives at a lake house. A classic summer drinking environment. This trip was a bit easier. I focused on the family, the lake, and relied heavily on my sobriety toolbox: NA beers, sparkling water, favorite snacks.
3. Friend’s Ranch, Central California – A challenging trip. Booze was everywhere. But again, the toolbox helped. I stayed grounded and had a great time.
4. Recovery Unbroken Retreat, Nashville, Tennessee – An unforgettable trip with fellow RU members. We embraced the music, dined well, and enjoyed the city—sober. The camaraderie and support proved that you can have fun in a party town without drinking.
5. Scottsdale & Sedona, Arizona – The most recent RU retreat. The desert is such a healing place. I actually lived in Tempe for five years while attending ASU (a whole other blog post could be written about my college drinking days). The air, the landscape, the sky—everything felt restorative. The sound bath, the sweat lodge, and especially the car rides with fellow RU members—those moments of shared reflection and connection were deeply meaningful.

A New Way to Travel

Coming home from these sober trips feels different. I remember everything. There’s little recovery needed—aside from normal travel fatigue—and transitioning back to everyday life is smoother.

Vacations don’t need alcohol to be fulfilling. I lived that lie for too long. Now, with a new perspective, I can truly say that sober vacations are not only possible, but better.

If you’re early in your sobriety journey, I encourage you to take a sober trip. Even if it’s just one town over and one night in a hotel. Notice how you feel during and after. It gets easier. Eventually, it becomes the new, welcomed norm.

--Charles W.