For some people, once you catch the travel bug, there’s no going back. My decade-long career in sales and marketing for a pharmaceutical company had given me a taste for adventure. So when I switched to a job that didn’t involve travel after my daughters were born, I felt a void. I longed for that sensation of being immersed in a new world.

Eventually I came up with the idea of individual mother-daughter trips. I’d alternate years with my kids, Sierra and Hudson, as a way of fulfilling my wanderlust while sparking theirs. The intention was to experience someplace new. To get lost, to be curious.

When it was time to plan the first trip—this one would be with Hudson, then 7—our travel advisers at Black Tomato suggested Japan. It was a great fit for her love of food, animals, and adventure. In Tokyo, stops included the Ueno Zoo and Tsukiji fish market, where Hudson ran from stall to stall, holding a live eel without even flinching. Her enthusiasm was incredible. We caught the bullet train to Kyoto, passing Mt. Fuji on the way. We visited the Iwatayama Monkey Park, walked through the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove (an immersive maze!), learned to make origami (easy when someone guides you through it!), and slurped bowls of udon, as is customary in Japan and which Hudson, of course, found hilarious.

This trip was a chance to break out of the chaos of everyday life—an opportunity to be silly and to linger. It was the first time I got to be with Hudson as a mom only. I wasn’t also a busy working mom or her chauffeur or personal chef.

When we returned to Tokyo’s Shibuya Station, our guide took us to a little-known restaurant in the basement of the train station, which served the best ramen ever. At Shibuya we also encountered the bronze statue of Hachiko, the beloved pup in Hachiko Waits, a children’s book Hudson and I had read countless times before our trip. It’s about a dog who goes to the train station to wait for his owner to return home from work each day, even after his owner passes. Seeing the statue in real life reinforced the lesson in the book—the value of unwavering loyalty, of love and connection. It felt like one of those moments you have growing up that become part of who you are.

Halfway around the world in Japan, Hudson and I both experienced our first Zen gardens, bamboo forests, and temples, but maybe even more importantly, we bonded over ice cream, card games, and special nights. I knew then that these trips would be our thing. That with any luck, we’d continue this tradition as long as I could physically go on them.

That first trip was 10 years ago now, and I’ve learned that these annual adventures with my daughters might be the most valuable thing we’ll do all year. The list of where we want to go is long and spurs conversations at home that are even longer. We’re just getting started.