It’s been 430 days and I am still in love with what I’m doing.

I am not homesick.

I often have conversations with others about staying energized to keep traveling. People DM me, or it comes up among the travelers around me.

 

 

Two words, and you can stop reading this post: travel slow.

I discovered early on that a longer trip does not mean I can “see more places.” Feel more, yes. Tour more, not so much.

 

 

Wifi Days

I regularly spend several days in a row sitting at my computer, somewhere comfy, organizing my bank statements, Couchsurfing account, and personal diary. I browse Workaway and practice Duolingo. I read books from the country I am currently in. I read other blogs.

When your trip is the life you live, even tax forms and voting ballots have to be remotely managed.

On some wifi days I do none of the above. The day just goes. I might have been unproductive as hell, but I feel happy rather than drained.

Less Tourism

I’m not just backpacking and sleeping at hostels. That gets weary. I often change up how I’m traveling.

In the last 14 months I’ve camped in vans, pitchforked lavender, blogged for a hostel, hitchhiked, and Couchsurfed. I even accepted an invitation to go on a cruise with my 80-something grandparents.

I rarely take a tour, and seek unique experiences away from the tourism industry. Mountains, waterfalls, and beaches exist all over the world. Language, food, and religion change drastically from border to border, and can be easily accessed and explored in depth without leaving a major city.

 

 

Finding Routine in Chaos

When I stay longer at a Workaway project or move into a van, I have my own space. My clothes are organized like they would be at home. I have a kitchen I can use, and a favorite mug.

I look for space for yoga flows and evening runs. With a little discipline, I start to follow something that resembles a schedule.

These aspects stabilize the mess that nomadism creates. It makes my lifestyle sustainable, and sometimes my days have more structure than my life at home.

 

 

No Plans

Not having a plan to go home, or a plan at all, leaves me deliciously free to embrace whatever opportunities come my way. Saying yes to an epic road trip is easy. I can spontaneously book flights to meet friends, rather than have everything booked way in advance and be forced to constantly meet new people.

To keep going, I keep things open-ended and interesting.

No Pressure

It is so valuable to be able to turn down a group who invites you to go on an adventurous excursion, or to go out at night. No matter how nice or cool they might be. Having visited 54 countries, the Top Things To Do for most people are very different from mine.

I am shameless in living exactly how I want. If my mood is beer and ice cream for dinner, I do it. If I want to eat at a weird hour, or just spoon into pitayas and papayas for a meal, I make it happen.

Always agreeing to explore, or to have a dinner beer together, sounds exhausting. I am far better off waiting for the right person and right situation for social activities. My liver appreciates that I avoid alcohol on weekdays (and plenty of weekends). Meanwhile, I’ll be holed up in my antisocial corner.

 

 

This

How can I ignore one of the biggest forces behind my energy to keep wandering on?

Running this website and creating content is still as fun as it was when I started four years ago. It’s one of those things that I know I have a passion for, because I feel it. I work into the latest hours, in bed and on airport floors, because in those moments I have found a magical, tireless strength.

When a Vivian Alive post is close to being done, I care more about finishing it than feeding myself. That’s so rare.

Scrolling through a finished post, appreciating my words and photo placement, is like taking a deep breath. I desire nothing in return. I just want more. I’m lost in my own positive feedback loop for publishing more of the ideas floating in my head, for inspiring new adventures that must be carried out.

 

 

Am I Being Realistic?

I realize that my opinions on this topic may change as the years add up. Maybe I am just fooling myself and clinging on to optimism.

After all, so many, many of the most-read travel bloggers have quit full-time travel. Like him and her and him and them.

Even Googling “full-time travel” pulls up blog posts about how scary it was to admit that he/she burnt out and found a more permanent base to work from.

It is likely that I will experience similar emotions and health risks. I accept my future self if I need to settle down somewhere, and make trips from that home. I have family in China and ideas for where I’d like to live, so I’ll probably try something outside of the United States first.

I also see that I’m naturally less inclined to be homesick. I’ve traveled from a young age, my favorite pets are no longer alive, and I can meet my parents and sister outside of Florida.

My trip matters to me more than anything. More than a career, more than a real routine. I don’t think about one day buying a house or having a family.

 

 

The universe has recently landed me in Japan.

I just finished a month of taking it slow in Bali, Indonesia. After hitchhiking in Turkey, the Caucasus, and Morocco during the coldest months of the Northern Hemisphere, I am still not ready to go hard.

A beautiful soul who I know from university is hosting me for the next weeks. I’ll be camped out in the carpeted corner of Reagan’s cozy apartment. She is helping teach English in a rural Japanese town as part of the JET programme.

We both figured out when we want to wake up and go to bed, and how we want to go on runs and nourish our bodies by cooking more. I’m using a kitchen for the first time in months and let me tell you, it’s an incredible sensation.

On weekends, we’ll explore. On weekdays, we’ll eat roasted Japanese yams and dark greens. It’s simple.

In May I’ll be volunteering at a fruit orchard. I’ll sleep in a volunteer dorm, have access to bikes and hiking trails, and be fed home-cooked traditional Japanese food. I’ll have a new space for a new routine.

My next months appeal to me because they are sustainable without compromising adventure or culture.

I can’t wait.