Nearly ten years ago, Liz and I met on a program called Remote Year. We were instant kindred Virgo spirits: writers living in the East Village of New York City, eager for the next chapter, curious about the planet and its people. At the time, we were 20-something single women lugging backpacks through airports, living out of month-long rentals and figuring out who we wanted to be. We spent twelve months working remotely from cities around the world: Lisbon, Lima, Kuala Lumpur.
At the time, our biggest worries were Wi-Fi strength and whether we’d make our next flight. We were free-spirited, ambitious, hungry to see everything, and truthfully, still trying to see ourselves clearly.
We could never have imagined that a decade later, we’d be back together at a different Disney: not as those wanderlusters… but as mothers.
When the invitation came for a National Geographic press trip at Walt Disney World’s Epcot to celebrate their Best of the World 2026 list, it felt almost poetic. The list honors 25 destinations around the globe that inspire how people will travel next, places defined by discovery, culture and connection.
As I scanned the itinerary, I knew exactly who I wanted to bring: the friend who’s lived a dozen lives with me, from passports and plane tickets to frantic postpartum texts at 3 a.m.
The way friendship changes, but never disappears
Motherhood shifts everything. Your priorities, your body, your sense of self — and quietly but powerfully — your friendships.
Liz and I were always close, but it was pregnancy and postpartum that stitched our bond into something deeper. We got pregnant within weeks of each other in 2024: her first, a boy named Mark, and my second, a girl named Maya. Serendipitously, they were born a week apart. From swollen ankles and feeding journeys to sleepless nights, our texts became lifelines: texts in the middle of the night, screenshots of baby apps, confessions of how much we missed our old lives.
In those blurry months, it felt like we were traveling together again: not across continents, but across motherhood’s impossible terrain. There were no maps, no itineraries, no fancy dinners, no last-minute bookings, no luxury hotel check-ins to look forward to. Just two friends navigating a new identity, side by side (and sometimes wishing we were sharing a dirty martini with blue-cheese stuffed olives instead of anxiety).
So when we decided to leave the babies at home with their dads and head to Orlando for this trip, it wasn’t just about getting away. It was about coming home to ourselves: the versions of us that existed before becoming moms.
Day One: The return to wonder
After we each had an earlier-than-usual wake-up call to catch our flights, we reunited at the Orlando Airport with big hugs and excitement. The first evening began at Animal Kingdom, where we boarded an open-air truck for the Kilimanjaro Safaris ride. A tour guide manager who has been with Disney for more than a decade gave us an indepth look into conservation and animal care and research at Animal Kingdom. We were lucky to see elephants, rhinos, hippos and more — all reminding us of when we visited South Africa and Kenya to see these beautiful creatures in the wild.
From there, we put Lightening Lane passes to good use and made our way to Pandora – The World of Avatar, where we rode Avatar Flight of Passage and Na’vi River Journey. The bioluminescent glow of the landscape, the floating mountains, the music all felt otherworldly, and for a few moments, suspended midair on Flight of Passage, I felt that familiar rush. Not just of adrenaline, but of awe. The kind you forget about in the day-to-day of motherhood until something jolts you awake again.
Dinner was set at the Tamu Tamu Courtyard, lit with twinkling lights and warm spices drifting through the air. Around us, the hum of conversation from other writers and creators filled the space, all of us there to celebrate the world’s beauty, even in a theme park, even in a very small curated corner of it. While an unfortunate garlic allergy kept me from sampling most of the wide array of dishes, Liz enjoyed her experience.
Where We Stayed: Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort
That night, we returned to Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where we were staying in the Gran Destino Tower, Tower View room: a sleek, Spanish-inspired property, a hop and a skip from Animal Kingdom. From the moment we walked into the lobby, with its soft lighting and soaring arches, the resort struck that rare balance between warmth and sophistication.
Our room overlooked the sparkling Lago Dorado, and at sunrise, the view was quite magical: the water catching streaks of pink and gold, palm trees swaying in the early morning breeze. It was the kind of calm mothers rarely experience, the kind that lets you exhale without someone tugging at your sleeve. We made coffee in silence, sat by the window, and talked about how strange it felt to wake up without caring for anyone but one another.
Day Two: Around the world in a day
The next morning, we boarded the bus to Epcot. Our day started with a private breakfast in the “Great Hall of China.” Coffee in hand, we listened as the National Geographic team passed around curated passports revealing the Best of the World 2025: their annual list of the 20 most inspiring destinations for the year ahead. From Rwanda’s Akagera National Park, where conservation and community intertwine, to the rugged beauty of Yorkshire, England, and the cultural resilience of Maui, each destination reflected National Geographic’s belief that travel can be both restorative and responsible. A lifetime ago, I was a travel correspondent for National Geographic, and while it’s not my current reality, chatting with the editors reminded me of those travel writer chops I still have, and perhaps, when the girls are older, will come back out to play.
After breakfast, Liz and I spent the day wandering Epcot’s World Showcase, moving from one pavilion to the next. We loved Morocco’s tiled archways, Japan’s koi ponds, France’s champagne slushies and Italy’s music spilling into the street. Between rides on Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind, Soarin’ Around the World, Test Track and Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure, we talked about our kids, our work, our marriages. We talked about how motherhood had softened us in some ways and sharpened us in others. We shared snacks, drinks, memories, sunscreen and laughter. (And yeah, a few tears, because those hormones are still wild a year into motherhood.)
By the time we reached the Mexico Pavilion that evening for the private dessert party, the sun had set and the air buzzed with anticipation. As fireworks exploded above us, we didn’t say much. We didn’t have to. The show was called Luminous: The Symphony of Us, and it felt like the universe had written it just for this moment: two old friends standing side by side, holding everything they’ve been through between them like light.
Day Three: The in-between
Our final morning began with breakfast on the patio of Gran Destino Tower.We talked about how strange it is to travel without our kids and how freeing and yet disorienting it can be to not have anyone needing us every moment.
But we weren’t quite ready to let go of our mini mom getaway. Before heading to the airport, we decided to visit Hollywood Studios. We raced through the gates, laughing at how ridiculous it was to fit in “just one more ride,” and somehow found ourselves strapping in for Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster Starring Aerosmith. As the countdown hit zero and we launched into the dark, guitars blaring, I couldn’t help but think how much motherhood feels like this: terrifying and exhilarating, disorienting and unforgettable, all at once.
A decade ago, travel meant independence. It meant proving we could do it all on our own. Now, it means something quieter. It means connection. Perspective. Gratitude for the moments that pull us out of our daily chaos and remind us that we still exist beyond the roles we play.
Standing in the middle of Epcot, surrounded by replicas of the world we once chased, I realized that maybe the point of all this isn’t to go farther but it’s to go deeper. The friendship Liz and I share has stretched across time zones, life stages and the undoing of motherhood. It has survived the distance between the women we were and the mothers we’ve become. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from both travel and motherhood, it’s that the most meaningful journeys rarely have a map.
Sometimes they begin in a foreign country. Sometimes they begin in a delivery room. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, they bring you right back to where you started: standing beside your friend, watching fireworks light up the sky, realizing that even in motherhood, there’s still magic left to be found.
