at home, the grocery store is a chore. i go the same store (because i know where everything is), i pick out usually the same things and nothing else, and i inevitably choose the register with the longest line.
when i'm traveling, i will spend hours examining every type of yogurt offering at a local supermarket. so much of traveling consists of looking at things anyway. i walk around the store like it's 1989 and i'm boris yeltsin in houston texas
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you don't realize the amount of mental effort involved in navigating the store until you have to determine which of the 17 different versions you'll actually want. there is a lot of assumed knowledge in a supermarket. you're supposed to know which thing to get.
travel revitalizes us because we have reserved interest for small things. there is practical benefit of getting something done in a way that's nonexistent at home. despite being exhausted from figuring out a new place and whether the thing you came to see is closed on mondays, the grocery store is a task with a clear ending.
at home, i've already made the decisions before i get there. i know what bread to get. there are entire aisles which may as well not exist. in a new place, the decisions are re-opened for examination and i am very interesting in reviewing them. the appeal for me is being somewhere ordinary without finding it ordinary.
somebody has come here after work to buy the same things they bought last week; they are having my normal grocery store experience. in the next aisle over, i'm fascinated by the size of their carrots.