Orokawa Bay is a secluded beach only accessibly by boat or foot from nearby Waihi Beach on New Zealand’s North Island. This was one of my last trips before the world shutdown for the pandemic.
When my best friend invited me to climb Kilimanjaro in 2017, I almost said no. Even though I had wanted to do it for years, my excuse was common — money and time. (I was transitioning to a location independent life but still physically tied to Austin for a few more months.) To prove I couldn’t afford it, I even checked flights. Of course, I found a fantastic deal with only ONE layover between Texas and Tanzania! You don’t get a second chance in life to climb Kilimanjaro with your best friend so I booked the flight and rearranged my work schedule to make it happen. (I wrote about all the logistics and cost of the trip here!)
Four years later, I can’t believe how close I was to NOT going because the timing wasn’t practical. It reminded me of a British woman I met in South America that I interviewed on my blog—she and her husband sold their house to travel for a year with their two teenage daughters. She said that the timing will never be 100% perfect for any trip—you just have to go. My trip to Kilimanjaro wasn’t the first time I made travel a priority and surely won’t be the last.
As someone whose life and career revolve around travel, the pandemic induced an unexpected sense of gratitude and nostalgia for all the times I’d said yes to someone’s crazy travel idea, concocted my own epic solo adventures or asked to join someone else’s trip.
It also made me appreciate the other times I prioritized travel even though the timing wasn’t perfect.
In 2002, I got on my third flight ever and flew to England solo to study abroad for a semester in a less-than photogenic industrial town in the Northeast. This was one of my top five life decisions.
Split Point Lighthouse at Airey’s Inlet on the Great Ocean Road in South Australia.
During the 2008 recession, I moved to Australia on a work visa and no set plan. As I’ve written about here, it was one of the hardest and best years of my life. While there, I got a job running photo trips in India and Southeast Asia, which I did for five summers. (I had to quit my jobs every summer to do it but always got hired back.) It’s also where I met Alfred, my globetrotting gnome.
In 2014, I quit everything to spend a year traveling in Latin America, which is where I decided to combine my photography with travel writing. (Quitting my job to travel was a pattern for a while.)
And, if you read my book, you know I did everything listed above on an average income of less than $30k/year with no debt.
In 2017, I started being location independent by making most of my work remote or contract-based freelance projects so I’m not tied to a specific location for more than a month. It took 2.5 years of saving (a two-year cushion that helped last year) and strategic planning to make this happen. (The savings was to ensure that worrying about money didn’t stifle my creativity or choices.) The standard two-week American vacation just doesn’t suit my life or align with my priorities. My life might look cool on Instagram but trust me, there are sacrifices.
In every single one of these situations, I called up an expert on life and travel—my 81-year-old Aunt Sandra—to ask her opinion.
She was a big traveler in her younger years—diving in Bonaire and touring Russia among other adventures—and one of the main inspirations for my vagabond life. She’s always cheered me on, but I still run through all my travel plans by her just to make sure they aren’t too crazy. “Should I do this now or wait another year?” is one of my frequent questions.
Her response is always the same but I still need to hear her say it, “Go now,” she replies. “I would if I could.”
Every morning in Cuba, I got up at sunrise to photograph the empty streets of Havana.
When I was debating about going to Cuba—one of my favorite places—she made a great point: “You never know what will happen in countries politically. If the situation changes, they might not be open to travelers for a long time.”
She is also quick to point out that now she’s got the money to fly first class but doesn’t have the health to do it anymore. This comment was a wake-up call for me.
I turn 40 this month (If you thought I was younger, please continue to think that!) I feel like I’ve lived a dozen different lives like book chapters named after the cities—Austin, Buenos Aires, Sydney, Middlesbrough, Chiang Mai—that shaped me. The list of places I want to visit continues to grow longer. What do I have to show for being 40? Two college degrees, passports full of stamps from visiting 52 countries and some pandemic-induced gratitude for my unconventional life choices.
Most big life decisions are frightening and filled with doubt. Every single decision—even deciding to go to graduate school and all the travel listed above—made me a little apprehensive at the time but I did it anyway. It can often take years to solidify that the choice was correct in hindsight. The pandemic affirmed that all the decisions I made to quit dozens of jobs to travel were in fact the right decision—despite all the bouts of food poisoning, and the two times my purse got stolen (Thailand and Barcelona.) I’ll save those stories for another post.
Now I’m vaccinated and daydreaming of all the places I love and miss while the Delta variant keeps complicating my life and work. I’m grateful I decided to spend January 2020 traveling the North Island of New Zealand before the world shut down. I wonder when will I get to eat khao soy in Chiang Mai, dance tango in Buenos Aires or see my friends in Australia again?
The future of travel is still uncertain but one day, we will travel freely again. (Hopefully, sooner than later.) When that day comes, I urge everyone to take advantage.
I’ve taught university classes for the past six years and every semester I spend an entire class period talking about traveling – logistics, money, safety—because it’s been the single greatest influence on my life. I’ve had countless students tell me how that inspired them to take their own adventure or even spend a year teaching English abroad.
In January 2020, I went to Wellington, New Zealand to visit a friend. It’s now one of my favorite cities.
So, what have I learned about travel in the last 40 years?
Say yes when someone invites you on a crazy trip. If you overhear someone talking about a place you want to go, ask if you can join. (I do this ALL the time.) Surround yourself with people that are more badass than you. Courage is contagious. (I’m a big hiker but all of my hiking buddies are stronger hikers than I am.) Learn to live below your means and save as much as possible.
You don’t have to be rich to travel. Some of my best memories were the times I was broke and traveling the cheapest way possible. In early 2009, my friends and I did a road trip along the Great Ocean Road in Australia sleeping in our rental car, sneaking into RV parks to shower and living on a diet of peanut butter and beer. (By the way, this is totally one of those trips I asked to join!)
Perhaps, one of the greatest lessons from the pandemic for us all is to practice gratitude and realign our goals for the future to travel more. And, most important, realizing that the timing will NEVER be 100% perfect for anything. You just have to align things the best you can and then, book the flight.
