The Case for a Travel Yoga Mat (and the Yoga That Actually Gets Used)

How I Practice Yoga While Traveling—No Studio Required

When travel gets hard, yoga makes travel easier.

Travel doesn’t become uncomfortable all at once—it happens in small, cumulative moments.

Sometimes those moments show up as emotional meltdowns: snapping at an airport cashier who rang up someone else’s order with yours, or stress-eating every on-the-road snack you prepared before you even reach your departure gate. In moments like these, even while traveling abroad, I rely on my yoga practice.

What Do You Need to Do Yoga While Traveling

Traveling with a yoga mat may seem odd or unnecessary, but I instinctively knew my yoga mat would be as essential as any technology or app I relied on.

Looking back, I would have geared down from the professional yoga mat I brought with me to a folding yoga mat for travel that was lightweight and easy to fit into a suitcase. That’s what I recommend starting with. If you later find you need more cushioning, buy a second mat at your destination—mats are usually easy to find locally and cost far less than buying specialty gear at home.

Once you have a mat, you have what you need to define a personal space to ground and reset. For extra support, fold a towel lengthwise or use a belt. I often use these luggage straps—they double perfectly as a yoga prop.

What Yoga Can You Do While Traveling

I’ve never attempted Urdhva Dhanurasana (backbend) or Sirsasana (headstand) in public. But when I feel tense or want to get circulation moving—and there’s enough room—I’ll ease into Tree Pose. Other times, I focus only on my breath.

Seated poses work especially well while traveling. Seated Pigeon (shown above) is one of my go-to options, particularly in airports or hotel rooms. Other chair yoga poses are just as effective when floor space is limited.

Regardless of the situation—or the form the practice takes—yoga consistently gives me stillness. Ease. Grace. Composure. From that place, a calmer, more intentional human emerges—one able to assess what’s happening and respond in ways that meaningfully change the outcome.

Yoga Belongs in Every Solo Traveler’s Toolkit

What follows are real situations where yoga did its job as I traveled and navigated life abroad.

• The weather goes feral.

I’ve escaped two typhoons in Vietnam, but the monsoon in Thailand left me pinned under a sparse coconut tree with a pack of side-eyeing dogs. Slow breathing still worked—even when Mother Nature and the local dog committee refused to calm down.

Function: Yoga provides internal steadiness when the environment is beyond my control.

• A mouse decides your balcony is now rent-free shared property.

That ocean-facing balcony is where I sip tea, meditate, and greet the day with several rounds of sun salutations. When a furry trespasser tried to claim the space, yoga helped me redirect my attention—back to my breath, my posture, and my decision not to relocate.

Function: Yoga narrows attention to what is controllable when something unexpected disrupts a sense of ease.

• One-day visa runs turn your spine into a question mark.

Hours on a bus will humble even the healthiest traveler. A few slow, familiar movements beside my bag help my body re-establish neutral and remember what upright feels like.

Function: Yoga helps the body recover from physical compression and fatigue.

• Your work schedule runs from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. to match CST and EST.

When your workday begins as street vendors are sweeping up noodle wrappers, yoga becomes the hinge between time zones—signaling when to wake the body and when to let it downshift.

Function: Yoga regulates the nervous system when the body clock no longer matches daylight.

• A friend insists they mailed your package, but there’s no tracking number, no receipt, and months later, still no package.

Yoga creates enough pause to reflect on what matters, acknowledge workable alternatives, and respond with composure instead of frustration.

Function: Yoga slows reaction time and de-escalates conflict.

• You’ve crossed a nine-lane highway three times in one day.

Vietnam teaches you that traffic has its own choreography. Yoga teaches you how to release the tension you accumulated just trying to survive it.

Function: Yoga discharges stored vigilance after sustained alertness.

• Plaid flannel pajama bottoms are the only winter clothing you have—and yes, you wear them outside. Fashionably, of course.

When you’re underprepared and adapting in real time, yoga generates enough internal heat and confidence to move through the day—pajamas and all—without explanation.

Function: Yoga supplies self-trust when circumstances require improvisation.

You can do yoga exactly where you are.

• Melancholy creeps in for no clear reason.

Long-term travel can loosen your sense of continuity. Repeating a simple chant for a few minutes or lifting the arms into Urdhva Hastasana (Upward Salute, above image) helps shift both posture and mood.

Function: Yoga resets mood by improving circulation and redirecting attention.

• You’ve been hired to do the thing you love doing most in the world.

Good news can arrive when you’re far from home, without familiar people to mark the moment with you. A short grounding practice helps settle the nervous system so excitement doesn’t tip into overwhelm.

Function: Yoga grounds positive stress so you can receive success with clarity and intention.

• You feel joyous.

Joy can be expansive and distracting, especially on the road. A few steady breaths or a brief posture sequence helps anchor the experience in the body instead of rushing ahead to what’s next.

Function: Yoga stabilizes joy so it can be fully experienced.

Practicing yoga in Da Nang with people from all over the world—proof that yoga adapts as easily as we do.

Yoga for Real Life

Travel has a way of testing your patience, your body, and your expectations—often all at once.

I don’t practice yoga to escape the reality of travel; I use it to reduce anxiety, strengthen resilience, and keep my body healthy. When my travel life gets tricky, yoga is accessible wherever I am, giving me a reliable way to reset and carry on.

This is the kind of yoga I teach: accessible, practical, and designed for real life. If you’ve found your own way to reset when travel gets hard—through yoga or otherwise—I welcome you to share what’s worked for you.