Full-Time Travel | The Reality After 2+ Years
For years now, I’ve been living out of a suitcase, wearing the same four pairs of pants, and bouncing around cities and countries with my camera in hand. It’s been incredible, but this isn’t about the highlight reel.
This is about the parts of full-time travel that aren’t as easily romanticized.
And also, I’m making it my personal mission in this blog to add something new to the conversation. I’d like to take 5 minutes to talk about some things you don’t always hear from van-lifers and digital nomads.
Not “sometimes the wi-fi is slow”, but more of the mental and emotional toll that’s par for my course nowadays.
This one’s for anyone and everyone to read/enjoy, but especially for you if you’re considering following suit and doing the same.
This Article is Also a YouTube Video:
… and if you happen to watch & enjoy, would you be so kind as to help me out with the algorithm and subscribe to the channel? 👀
Every little bit of your time and attention helps me spend more time on this stuff and less selling my soul off in corporate America, so I’m eternally grateful.
Why I Chose Full-Time Travel in the First Place
30 seconds of context in case you don’t know me very well. Why did I decide to travel full-time?
One: because I could. I had the freedom and the kind of work that made it possible.
Two: the world is very big, and also kind of falling apart. I didn’t want to wait until “later” to do and see the things I’ve always dreamed of. Later just isn’t always guaranteed.
For me, full-time travel became a non-negotiable.
It’s the only way I can move at the pace I want, stay in places long enough to really take them in, and see as much of the world as possible while I know I still can. If I had rent or a mortgage, travel would always be an add-on expense. Something to “find time for” between work deadlines and PTO limits.
By leaving that all behind and making a few sacrifices, I can have travel as a constant and get through this ever-growing bucket list a little more efficiently.
1. Becoming Desensitized to Beauty
Let’s start with the scariest one, straight out of the gate: It’s possible to get tired of all the things you once craved.
New cities, gorgeous scenery, cathedrals, and whatnot. They can all start to blur together if you’re not careful and intentional. Sometimes I catch myself hardly reacting at all to places and moments that should feel special.
Something I talked about a lot in relation to photography and the pitfall of living behind a viewfinder instead of being truly present in this video:
I really despise that feeling. I never want to lose my sense of wonder. But the truth is, the most incredible things in the world can become routine if you don’t slow down and stay intentional.
Photography helps as much as it can hurt, though. It forces me to pay attention. That said, I’ve definitely felt less inspired in some places, especially around parts of the U.S. that I’ve seen before, which just don’t spark my creativity in the same ways anymore.
There’s also a kind of guilt when this happens. Like your privilege has numbed you, and you’re somehow failing to appreciate the opportunities you've been given.
2. Full-Time Travel Doesn’t Let You Escape Yourself
A common misconception: Full-time travel = escape.
Tik Tok might sell full-time travel as the cure for your dead-end job or lack of purpose, but it just isnt’ that clear-cut. And travel is not going to do the work for you, no matter how far you go or how long you’re gone for.
You don’t outrun your problems. You just do battle with them in different locations.
Mental health, burnout, insecurity, loneliness, it all follows you, no matter where you go. If anything, the unfamiliar surroundings can amplify those struggles. That’s why it’s so important to build systems that help you stay grounded, even when you’re thousands of miles from the people who know you best.
3. Losing Touch with Everyone, Including Yourself
One of the harder parts of full-time travel is the gradual distance it creates. Not just from the people in your old life, but from your past self.
Yes, friends move on. Relationships shift. That’s expected. I could talk all day about that, but you’ve heard the same sentiments about loneliness and belonging before.
What never fails to surprise me is how much I have changed. Sometimes you just don’t see how all the little day-to-day changes have cumulated into something larger until you come home or see someone who knows you well enough to notice the difference between who you were and who you are now.
The change is slow and subtle, but over time, it’s profound. And it can feel jarring when you see surprise in a loved one’s eyes.
4. Goodbyes
Full-time travel means you’re always leaving.
The barista at a frequented coffee spot finally recognizes you, your lunchtime walking route has been perfected, the Friday night drink spot has just begun to feel like yours.
Then it’s time to head out again.
It’s like moving house five times a year. Constant little endings, and bite-sized versions of the larger feelings you’d experience if you really had lived in X spot for years and years.
Even when a place wasn’t perfect, leaving it still strikes a chord.
5. The Toll on Your Body and Focus
Without a trust fund or a startup exit, I have to work to support my full-time travel life, and I do so all day, every day, not to mention all the time spent working on my personal projects outside the 9-5.
However, there’s no standing desk or ergonomic chair.
It’s me, my laptop, and whatever torture device the most recent Airbnb has had the audacity to label a dining chair. I spend hours editing, emailing, writing, planning, all while trying not to destroy my neck and back.
And don’t get me started on coffee shops. Cafés and libraries might make great Instagram fodder, but almost every public chair in the world is an ergonomic nightmare. I can’t say I hate working from coffee shops; in fact, I love getting out and being around people, having a change of scenery, but at best, these places are good for a few hours.
Full-time travel means I have to be hyper-aware of my physical health. Stretching, walking, eating right, getting sleep, it's all essential if I want to have any chance of feeling like myself, and even then I know for a fact I’m less productive than I’d be if I had a consistent workspace.
6. Is Full-Time Travel Expensive?
This surprises people: full-time travel has actually cost me less than living in a major U.S. city. I’m saving money doing this compared to my cost of living prior.
But it only works if you're disciplined. I budget incessantly. I track everything. And I treat this lifestyle like a job, not a year-long vacation.
Some months, I spend $4,000–$5,000 pre-booking places. In other months, I spend almost nothing because I’ve prepaid, allowing me to catch up or plan for the next booking.
It’s unpredictable and stressful, but manageable if you have a fetish for spreadsheets.
7. Becoming My Own Travel Agent
Planning a vacation is time-consuming, but fun, right?
When your entire life becomes a series of one-way tickets to destinations, staying in each for a month or two at a time, it becomes exhausting to keep track of. If this seems like the most obvious thing on the list, I just have to say this- it’s so much more tiring than I expected.
I like to make the most of every place I go. That means everything from the minutiae of locating the nearest grocery store to figuring out how to avoid breaking any international laws as a long-ish-term guest abroad.
Perhaps I’m just bad at planning, or too granular? But I spend an absurd number of hours researching, planning for costs, what I can film or photograph, and where to get a decent coffee.
Sometimes I wish I could just throw money at a travel agent and say, “Tell me where to go, what to do, and which lens to bring.”
But again, no trust fund or bitcoin investment here.
What Comes After Full-Time Travel?
I never wanted the house, the kids, the yard. That life’s never appealed to me.
But I’d be lying if I said I never wondered how long I’ll keep this up. How will it affect me long-term? What level of stability am I building toward?
But to this day, I have very little to complain about. I kind of like the idea of always being in the wind, showing up once in a while, the crazy uncle to my sisters’ kids with stories and souvenirs.
As long as full-time travel feels like the right life for me, I’ll keep doing it, and I’ll be grateful for every weird, beautiful, exhausting moment along the way.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Agree? Disagree?
Want to discuss something completely unrelated, like my favorite breweries in a city I’ve recently visited?
Have no fear, I’m probably online, whether I want to be or not ⬇️
