Orokawa Bay, a hidden gem accessible only by boat or foot from Waihi Beach on New Zealand's North Island, was one of my last trips before the pandemic changed everything.
When my best friend suggested climbing Kilimanjaro back in 2017, I almost declined. Despite dreaming of this adventure for years, I let time and finances deter me. I even checked flight prices to justify my hesitation. But I stumbled upon an incredible deal with just one layover from Texas to Tanzania! Realizing this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance with my best friend, I booked the flight and adjusted my work commitments accordingly. (I detailed the logistics and cost of the trip here!)
Looking back four years later, I can hardly believe how close I came to missing out just because the timing seemed off. It reminded me of a British woman I met in South America who sold her house to travel for a year with her two teenage daughters. She wisely noted that the timing for any trip will never be perfect; you simply have to go. My Kilimanjaro adventure wasn’t my first leap into travel, and it certainly won’t be my last.
As someone whose life is centered around travel, the pandemic instilled a newfound appreciation for every spontaneous trip I’d taken, every solo adventure I embarked on, and every invitation I accepted.
It also reinforced my gratitude for prioritizing travel during less-than-ideal times.
In 2002, I took my third flight ever to study abroad in England for a semester in an industrial town in the Northeast. That decision ranks among my top five best choices.
Split Point Lighthouse at Airey’s Inlet along the Great Ocean Road in South Australia.
During the 2008 recession, I moved to Australia on a work visa without a clear plan. As I recount here, it turned out to be one of the most challenging yet rewarding years of my life. While there, I landed a job leading photo trips in India and Southeast Asia for five summers. (I would quit my jobs every summer to pursue this but was always welcomed back.) That’s also where I met Alfred, my adventurous gnome.
In 2014, I made the bold choice to quit everything for a year of travel through Latin America, merging my photography skills with travel writing. (Quitting jobs to travel became a pattern for me.)
If you’ve read my book, you know I managed all these adventures on an annual income of less than $30,000 while being debt-free.
By 2017, I transitioned into a location-independent lifestyle, shifting most of my work to remote or freelance projects, allowing for more flexibility. It took 2.5 years of saving (which provided a cushion during the pandemic) and careful planning to achieve this. (I saved to ensure that money worries wouldn’t restrict my creativity or choices.) The standard two-week vacation just doesn’t align with my priorities. My life might seem glamorous on Instagram, but sacrifices were involved.
In every one of these pivotal moments, I consulted my 81-year-old Aunt Sandra, my go-to expert on life and travel.
She was an avid traveler in her youth—diving in Bonaire and exploring Russia among other destinations—and has been a significant inspiration for my nomadic lifestyle. While she always supports my adventures, I still run my travel plans by her to ensure they’re not too wild. One of my regular questions is, “Should I go now or wait a year?”
Her answer is consistently the same, but I need to hear it: “Go now,” she advises. “If I could, I would.”
Every morning in Cuba, I rose at dawn to capture the quiet streets of Havana.
When I was contemplating a trip to Cuba—one of my favorite destinations—she made a valid point: “You never know what might happen politically in countries. If things change, they might close their borders for an extended period.”
She also noted that while she can now afford first-class flights, her health no longer permits it. That was a wake-up call for me.
As I approach 40 this month (if you think I look younger, keep believing that!), I feel like I’ve lived multiple lives, each chapter named after cities—Austin, Buenos Aires, Sydney, Middlesbrough, Chiang Mai—that have shaped who I am. My travel bucket list keeps growing. What do I have to show for turning 40? Two degrees, passports filled with stamps from 52 countries, and a new-found gratitude for my unconventional choices.
All major life decisions come with fear and uncertainty. Every choice—even applying to graduate school and all those travel adventures—gave me some apprehension, but I went for it anyway. It often takes years to realize that a choice was indeed right, but the pandemic confirmed that my decisions to leave numerous jobs for travel were justified—despite the challenges of food poisoning and the two occasions my purse was stolen (in Thailand and Barcelona). I’ll share those tales another time.
Now vaccinated, I find myself daydreaming about all the places I love while the Delta variant complicates travel plans. I’m thankful I traveled across New Zealand's North Island in January 2020 before everything changed. When will I again taste khao soy in Chiang Mai, tango in Buenos Aires, or reconnect with friends in Australia?
The future of travel remains unpredictable, but one day we’ll roam freely again. I hope it’s soon. When that moment arrives, I encourage everyone to seize the opportunity.
For the past six years, I’ve taught university classes, dedicating an entire session to travel—covering logistics, budgeting, and safety—because it’s had an enormous impact on my life. Many students have shared that my lessons inspired them to embark on their own adventures or even spend a year teaching English abroad.
In January 2020, I visited Wellington, New Zealand, to see a friend, and it quickly became one of my favorite cities.
So, what insights have I gained about travel over the past 40 years?
Say yes when you receive an invitation for an adventurous trip. If you overhear someone mentioning a destination you’d love to visit, don’t hesitate to ask to join. (I often do this!) Surround yourself with more daring individuals. Courage can be contagious. (I’m a passionate hiker, but my hiking friends are even stronger.) Learn to spend less and save more.
You don’t need to be wealthy to explore the world. Some of my fondest memories come from traveling on a tight budget. In early 2009, my friends and I road-tripped along the Great Ocean Road in Australia, sleeping in our rental car, sneaking into RV parks for showers, and living off peanut butter and beer. (Yes, this was one of those trips I eagerly joined!)
Perhaps the most crucial lesson from the pandemic has been to practice gratitude and refocus our goals to embrace travel more. Most importantly, recognize that the timing will NEVER be entirely right for anything. You just need to align what you can and then book that flight.
