The last week of June and the first week of July we were in Barcelona. Which means 12 months after we left the U.S. for our new nomadic lifestyle, we celebrated in one of the coolest cities in Spain.
On July 2nd, 2017, we woke up, looked at each other, and said, “Holy shit, it’s been a year.” Twelve full months since we started this craziness, and it went by (like most things in life do) both in a flash and incredibly, delightfully slowly.
So now, a few weeks later (we’re currently in a wonderful little cottage in Shanagarry, Ireland) is the perfect time to reflect on some things we’ve learned from this new lifestyle.
There’s a Grand-Canyon-Sized Gulf Between Needs and Wants
A year before we became nomads, we were like many other American families: a couple of cars, a house, rooms full of furniture, and a mound of stuff in the garage that slowly, creepingly, grew every year.
Even then I was stubbornly resistant to acquiring things, to the point that my poor wife felt like it was impossible to buy anything other than food without me looking it over like a suspicious Customs agent. But that didn’t stop our house from slowly filling up, it just happened a bit more slowly than others.
Now things couldn’t be more different. The three of us each have a backpack and a carry on, and everything we own now fits in those bags. The two exceptions are Juliann’s yoga mat and Braeden’s scooter.
[Explaining a yoga mat to a CrossFitter like me is like explaining air to a fish. “Why can’t you just do yoga on the floor?”, “But why not?”, “Isn’t the floor as same as the mat?”, etc. Like I said: my poor wife.]
Braeden and I have been living more or less with the same set of 1 week’s worth of clothes for a year (we’ve replaced a few items, of course, and I’ve treated myself to a few CrossFit shirts at the various gyms I’ve visited) and we could care less.
Check Out: Living and Loving [Koh] Lanta
We have our laptops. Our camera. Braeden has a few comics and books and Legos. And that’s pretty much it. It’s amazing to be able to pack our bags, hop in a car/boat/train/taxi/plane, and step into a new home in a different country with everything we need. I realize now the things I really require in my life to be happy – beyond food, water, and shelter, and my wife and son – are:
- My family and friends
- A challenge for my body
- A challenge for my mind
Everything else is a nice-to-have. So now, when I have to make a decision, if it’s between one of the above and something else, it’s easy.
People Everywhere Are Awesome
When we first started telling people about our plans in late 2015, we heard a lot of, “Oh the French are…” or, “People in the Emirates are…”, etc, usually followed by something negative. Citizens of just about every country we had planned to visit were subject to some sort of criticism.
Except the Thais. No one had a bad thing to say about the Thai people.
Anyway, what we found is that the people in every country we went to were fantastic. To paraphrase something I read a few years ago, “People are wonderful all over the world. It’s governments that suck.”
Check Out: Heavy Traffic in Life’s Slow Lane – Hoi An
There was not a single place we visited where the majority of the people didn’t welcome us and make us feel at home. Sure, we’ve run across some grouchy folks, like the fellow in Venice that yelled at us for eating on the steps of a church. Or the little old lady in Hanoi that overcharged the f**k out of me for a bunch of bananas.
But people are good. They’re just like you and me. They want to enjoy their lives, they love their kids, and they’re more than willing to help a stranger in need.
The World May Have Gotten Smaller, But It’s Still Goddamned Huge
Yeah, it’s easier than ever to travel long distances. You can cross continents in just a few hours, and the internet has made the world feel miniscule.
It’s still a freaking planet, though. We’ve stayed a month or two in some countries and we feel like we’ve only scratched the surface. The world is so rich, so full of experience and amazing things to see, that even if you were able to travel for years much more energetically than we have there would still be so much you wouldn’t have seen.
If you’re a glass-half-full person like me, that’s comforting. The planet on which we live is, for all intents and purposes, infinite.
You Are Your Own Lifeboat
Traveling around the world as a family of three isn’t easy. I know, there are worse things, but still, everyone we talk to seems to think we drink rum and sleep in hammocks all day.
[Ok, we try to do that often, but not every day]
It’s work. We live on the road. Which means we LIVE on the road. We do laundry. Keep in touch with friends and family. Keep a business growing. Work out. Homeschool Braeden. Figure out where the f**k we can get good produce. Deal with SIM cards. Swear at slow internet connections. Etc.
There are rare times when I slump in a chair and think, “I just wanna be home.” And then I remember that there is no more home. There’s just a tiny storage unit in Rocky Hill, CT filled with clothes and memories.
But then I realize that I have my home with me. We have everything we need, right here with us, and regardless of the circumstances, we’ll be ok. And then I feel better.
Juliann and I are avid divers, but when we bought our home in 2010 we didn’t dive for a few years. On our first vacation with Braeden in Belize I just had to dive the Blue Hole, so I made it my first dive back in the water. No tuneup dive for me, oh no, I just hopped on the boat and off we went.
That was a huge mistake. A few hours later I was in the middle of the Blue Hole, 120 feet down, and suddenly I found myself doing something I had never done underwater before: I panicked. I looked up to the surface and saw the dive boat far above me, a tiny speck that might as well have been a hundred miles away. Even though my tank was full I felt as if I were running out of air. My panic thickened. I gasped and fought the urge to bolt for the surface. I knew if I did I was dead, but I felt that if I stayed there in the deep blue I would die.
I slowed my breathing and thought of my tank. My regulator. My BC. I told myself that I had everything that I needed to survive right here with me, and I slowly calmed myself down. After a few minutes I rejoined my group and finished the dive.
Now, every time I feel that sense of “I want to be home,” I tell myself that I have everything I need right here with me. Home is here, wherever I happen to be with my wife and son.
And Barcelona
I’m writing this on August 20th, 2017, just a few days after a couple of assholes decided that killing a bunch of people on Las Ramblas with a rented van would make the world a better place.
I loved Barcelona, and the people there were wonderful to us. We were terribly saddened to hear about the attacks, and our thoughts are with the Spanish people.
The city of Barcelona itself was fantastic. We didn’t have the most peaceful apartment but the location in the El Born neighborhood was perfect. We were able to walk to the Gothic Quarter and the waterfront in just minutes, I was three blocks away from CrossFit Eixample, an excellent gym, and we had a few delicious tapas restaurants right around the corner.
Gaudi-inspired design – and Gaudi’s work itself – was everywhere. It’s an amazing city to explore, especially with a 5-year-old who loves art and architecture.
We went on a bike tour, visited Sagrada Familia multiple times, spent time exploring the Gothic Quarter, checked out Parc Guell and Casa Batllo, and ate at some inspiring restaurants, including El Xampanyat (GO NOW!) and Casa Lolea.
I also indulged in way too much Tinto Verano (red wine and lemon soda with ice) and Vermouth.
One day late in our stay we rented a car and drove up to Montserrat, an abbey located high in the mountains. We parked in the lot at the base of the mountain and took the rack rail train up to the abbey, where we spent a few hours wandering around, admiring the ancient buildings, hiking a few of the trails, and grabbing a not-so-special cafeteria lunch.
We enjoyed Barcelona and I thought it was a near-perfect city: cosmopolitan, amazing architecture, near the sea and mountains, incredible food, and great people. The boy is excited to go back when Sagrada Familia is finally finished, supposedly in 2026, and I know I’m dying to hit El Xampanyat again for some tapas. I think I can wait that long.
Next: Sevilla!
I love reading about your travel adventures. Thank you so much for sharing your stories with all of us. Much love to all three of you.
Carol
I love this. I love everything about this! Especially about how governments ruin everything. People ARE wonderful everywhere! Barcelona is my favorite city bar none. We hope able to join you in leaving it all behind in the next year or so. That’s the plan anyway.
Two pieces of advice from fellow authors: If you don’t risk being garish “, you risk being bland.” And another one: “I believe writers block is simply the fear of writing badly.”
This was extremely helpful! Thank you ever so much.
My confidence has definitely raised now 🙂