In some ways, this is the reason I’m traveling. All I knew about it, really, was that it was one of the things you’re supposed to see. Before I really knew anything about the Mughal Empire, before I had read up on Shah Jahan, before I had heard of the calligraphy or the pietra dura or the gardens, I knew a bunch of people thought it was important, for some definition of important, to see it for yourself.

And I realized I was never going to. Travel is hard, it’s expensive, it’s stressful, and it takes a lot of effort to plan and book and schedule your holiday and go. I just was never going to get around to it. There’s no way I was ever going to get on a plane and see the Taj Mahal or Chichen Itza or the Great Pyramid of Giza. So I cut the cord, gave up my apartment, and started to see the things I was never going to see otherwise.

Listen, you really don’t need to see any of the stuff on this list to live a full, rich life. I think travel is a blessing, that seeing the world beyond your horizon challenges and enlightens you in ways both subtle and profound. But so do books. So does volunteering. So does raising children. And let’s be honest, you can be perfectly happy without being challenged or enlightened. If anything, it’s probably easier.

But you walk into those gardens in Agra, and you look up at that building, perfectly symmetrical, shining white in the afternoon sun, the elegant Arabic script running up and over its arches. You may have a guide, pointing out how cleverly it’s constructed, with the calligraphy getting larger so it keeps its proportions with the perspective, how the four minarets bend ever so slightly towards the tomb to accomplish the same trick. You will walk inside, able to trace the flowers carved into the marble walls and follow the inlaid stones forming fruits and vines along the exterior. And you will understand, maybe, sometimes, you have to be there to understand.