During a quick layover that turned into a long layover thanks to spring thunderstorms, I read “A Walk in the Woods” by Bill Bryson. It's a first-person account of the author's trek along the Appalachian Trail, fueled predominantly by Snickers candy bars and mettle. A big part of me longs to follow in his footsteps someday, though perhaps with more practical food choices. Who's in?

Other than Bryson's nearly panicky fears of bears and rattlesnakes, the aspect of the book that resonated with me most was the bewilderment he described during moments when he left the woods to interact with society. Everyday life suddenly felt foreign; highway noise was jarring, and stocked shelves were a luxury. It struck me how quickly we adapt to new environments and how profoundly they shape us.

I've experienced this myself when traveling overseas, even to similar cultures. I spent the beginning of the year in Barcelona, organizing the stand design awards for Integrated Systems Europe, and I found that the country's casual integration of sensual pleasures — art, leisure, jamón ibérico — had a dramatic influence on my mood.

There's a hospital in Barcelona called the Hospital de Sant Pau. It was built in 1902 to replace the Hospital de la Santa Creu, which dates back to 1401 and closed in 1930. Quick aside: One of Santa Creu's last patients was Antoni Gaudi whose stunning architectural masterpieces give Barcelona a unique sense of place. He ended his life a recluse and died in Santa Creu after being hit by a tram while he was walking to his greatest work, La Sagrada Familia, to painstakingly pore over blueprints. And if I may bring it back to events for a moment, although Gaudi didn't design any pavilions for the 1888 Barcelona Universal Exposition, his mosaic bench at Parc de la Ciutadella was a key feature of the event and remains a huge attraction. And now you'll be ready if Gaudi comes up at your next bar trivia night.

But back to Hospital de Sant Pau. The facility treated patients until 2009 when it closed its doors, was renovated, and reopened as a museum, the Sant Pau Art Nouveau Site. The hospital was envisioned as an embodiment of modern ingenuity. Not only was it technologically advanced, it also embraced the emerging philosophy that a patient's surroundings — specifically light and fresh air — played a role in healing. Corridors between different buildings were plunged underground so more of the hospital grounds could be dedicated to gardens filled with medicinal herbs. Patients who could go outside were encouraged to do so, but for those who couldn't, hospital architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner, Gaudi's peer as a fixture of Catalan Modernism, lured the outdoors in through colors and shapes that brought nature to mind. Patient wards had more space per patient than any other hospital at the time, and high, mosaicked ceilings let in light and ensured ventilation. Montaner relied heavily on tile in the building's decor, because it could be easily cleaned and because its versatility made each space unique. It's difficult to find any published accounts of how his design impacted patient health, but I'm certain that any hospital ward stuck in bed staring at a ceiling was glad it was an interesting one.

Place matters, whether it's a century-old hospital, a trail winding through the Appalachian wilderness, or a modern trade show booth. We see it every day on the show floor when attendees step into a space and encounter an experience that sparks curiosity, fosters relationships, or touches emotions. The environments event marketers create are catalysts for engagement, learning, and inspiration. And like a welcoming shelter in the woods or Montaner's Sant Pau, the best of them leave a lasting impression — and if you're lucky, a Snickers bar. E