A trip becomes yours through the unplanned details you keep mentioning afterward.

Itineraries are shared property; accidents are personal. The things you find yourself repeating months later are almost never the sights everyone books, but the wrong turning, the argument in the station, the cat in the doorway of a shop you were not looking for. Those details belong to you because nobody planned them for you. They are the part of the trip that could not have been bought.

On your next few days away, leave a couple of hours with nothing in them and let something unplanned occur. Afterwards, notice which stories you tell twice. That is where the trip actually was.