8 books to read on vacation
There’s something special and different about reading on vacation. Stories sink in a little deeper when you’re far from home, your mind unburdened, your senses a little more awake. It doesn’t matter if I’m stretched out on a beach towel with the sound of waves in the background or sipping coffee in a cozy mountain cabin, a good book makes any moment richer.
These eight reads have everything I crave when I’m away: escapism, heart, humor, education and the kind of storytelling that makes you forget to check your phone. If you’re packing your bags and wondering what to bring for your downtime, these books are my go-to companions for travel days, lazy mornings, and golden-hour afternoons.
Right now, I’m reading The Vacationers by Emma Straub while lying on a sun-drenched beach in Mallorca, a non-alcoholic mojito in hand. I’d been saving this novel for months—ever since I booked my flight to the island. There’s something magical about reading books set in specific locations while physically being in those places. Its very meta and makes story come alive in a more textured way. The Vacationers doesn’t offer a twisty plot or high-stakes drama, but that’s precisely its charm. It’s beautifully written—gentle, observant, and quietly poignant. The story meanders through the lives of a dysfunctional but deeply relatable family as they navigate old wounds, new revelations, and the complications of love during a summer getaway. If you enjoy narratives that blend family dynamics with breezy escapism—think Elin Hilderbrand—you’ll likely find The Vacationers utterly delightful.
If you are going to Italy, the only sensible option is to read Call Me by Your Name. I don’t make the rules. You probably have already read it but if for some miracle you haven’t, do it. It’s a tender coming-of-age story set in the 80s in Northern Italy, charting the passionate bittersweet romance between two young men. Sun-drenched, peach-fuelled, the novel captures the ache of the first love slipping away.
The next one is Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. An epic, semi-autobiographical tale of an escaped Australian convict who builds a new life in the underworld of Bombay—packed with adventure, philosophy, and unforgettable settings. I have read this novel in two days when I was fourteen and I still think about it all the time. The last sentence lives in my head rent free.
While savoring the sunshine and slow rhythms of Mediterranean life, A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle makes for the perfect companion. This charming memoir follows Mayle’s first year after moving from England to a 200-year-old farmhouse in the south of France. With wit and warmth, he chronicles the quirks of Provençal living—grappling with unpredictable builders, navigating long French lunches, and learning to appreciate the region’s eccentricities and delights. It’s not a book with a plot in the traditional sense, but rather a celebration of pace, place, and personality. Ideal for armchair travelers and Francophiles alike, it invites you to relish the small pleasures: good food, good wine, and the good humor required to embrace a slower, richer life. Warning: you will most likely get very hungry reading it.
Set in California circa 2060, You are Safe Here by
follows three women—an eco-conscious “wellness” magnate, a pregnant woman, and her partner—whose lives intertwine when a revolutionary biotech device promises ultimate safety and health. WellPod—a fleet of floating wellness retreats launched by the world’s most powerful tech giant—promises six weeks of health, solitude, and rejuvenation. Pregnant Maggie sees it as the perfect escape, especially since the baby isn’t her partner’s. But Noa, Maggie’s fiancée and one of the programmers behind the WellPod, uncovers a trail of dangerous malfunctions and buried cover-ups. With the faulty pods already adrift and a ferocious storm on the horizon, Noa must race against time to keep Maggie safe. With its sharp satire of Silicon Valley’s wellness craze, pulse-pounding corporate intrigue, and poignant explorations of motherhood and trust, You’re Safe Here is a white-knuckled ride through the seductive—and dangerous—frontiers of optimized living. I would say it’s more drama than science fiction but I love human centred stories in any shape. The novel is simply beautiful. Side-note, I actually listened to You are Safe Here, and the narrator is wonderful. Leslie is also author of my all time favourite newsletter “Morning Person.'“
Set against the sun-drenched backdrop of 1970s Los Angeles, Sex and Rage is Eve Babitz’s glittering debut novel (considered an autofiction more so than simply a novel)—a wry, sensual romp through the city’s art galleries, Hollywood parties, and bohemian enclaves. Jacaranda (Eve?), beautiful and restless, drifts between lovers and scenes with equal parts bravado and longing, seeking both liberation and a deeper authenticity amid the era’s sexual revolutions. Babitz captures L.A.’s kaleidoscopic glamour—the smoky nightclubs, the surging waves at Venice Beach, the overheated studio backlots—with sharp wit and a novelist’s eye for detail. At its heart, Sex and Rage is a coming-of-age portrait suffused with longing for connection and the intoxicating thrill of rebellion—a shimmering love letter to a city that promises endless possibility but also exacts its own price. I have read it while on vacation is South Africa and enjoyed every page of it.
In Pleasure Activism: The Politics of Feeling Good, writer and organizer Adrienne Maree Brown reframes joy, desire, and embodied pleasure as foundational tools for social change. Blending personal essays, cultural analysis, and practical exercises, Brown weaves together the threads of Black feminist thought, queer liberation, and transformative justice to show how tending to our own delight—and to the delight of our communities—can rupture systems of oppression. From meditations on dance and intimacy to reflections on healing pain and building interdependence, each chapter offers both theory and invitation: practices for reclaiming our bodies, centering collective care, and nurturing radical resilience. Ultimately, Brown argues, when we cultivate pleasure as a political act, we not only deepen our capacity for love and creativity but also energize our movements for freedom. I loved this book. Just read this: “Our radical imagination is a tool for decolonization, for reclaiming our right to shape our lived reality.” or this “I touch my own skin, and it tells me that before there was any harm, there was miracle.”
A sparkling, heartfelt memoir, Everything I Know About Love chronicles journalist and podcaster Dolly Alderton’s journey through friendship, romance, and self-discovery in her twenties. Through a series of candid, sometimes hilarious essays, Alderton explores the exhilaration and anguish of first loves, the steadfast devotion of her closest girlfriends, and the bittersweet lessons that come from heartbreak and risk. Weaving in diary entries, emails, and texts, she paints a vivid portrait of modern womanhood—navigating Tinder dates, late-night dance floors, and the quiet comfort of shared meals—and discovers that the greatest act of love is learning to care for yourself. Poignant and funny in equal measure, this book is a celebration of the messy, beautiful truth of growing up and finding your tribe.
Enjoy!
Alena