Yes, I’ve been to some incredible places over the last few months. But what I’ve realised is that when you don’t have a “home” to go back to, or more importantly, no clear end date, even the most remarkable experiences begin to feel… normal. And normal, when stretched too long, loses its magic.
I say this with deep gratitude for the opportunity I carved out for myself. But endless travel with no real plan is not without its difficulties. It doesn’t take away from the beauty I’ve seen, the people I’ve met, or the cultures I’ve immersed myself in. But there comes a moment when the very thing that once felt like freedom becomes exhausting.
When Everywhere Starts to Look the Same
Every beachfront begins to blur. Every hill town echoes the one before. Each beach has a familiar rhythm: the same plastic chairs, the same vendors, the same photos taken by people chasing a moment. When you’re away for a week, it’s charming. For a few months, it becomes a loop.
And that’s the reality: when you travel endlessly without pause, the extraordinary becomes routine.
The Myth of the Dream Trip
There’s a version of travel we see online, picture-perfect villas, curated experiences, and people who seem to get paid just to wake up somewhere beautiful. But that’s not the day-to-day for most of us.
Behind the camera, I still do laundry. I still go grocery shopping. I still coax my tired body into uncomfortable day trips. My husband, once keen for new adventures, is understandably done with them. The fun starts to feel forced, and the discomfort becomes harder to ignore.
Chapters of the Journey
This year has unfolded in chapters.
Chapter One was a two-month recharge in Bali. I unravelled the stress of the past few years through yoga, writing and rest. It was hard, but necessary. Some days I still feel like I’m in that phase.
Chapter Two was full nomad life across Southeast Asia. We kept moving, hopping between countries, planning around a yoga retreat in Thailand this August. It became a fixed point on the calendar that held us here, even when we were ready to move on.
Now, Chapter Three begins. We’ve booked two more retreats, starting this week at BeFitreat in Chalong, Phuket, where we’ll be working with a personal trainer and a nutritionist. No more planning meals or running errands for a while. It feels like a shift, a return to care.
The Importance of Anchoring
When you’re living out of suitcases, constantly adjusting to new surroundings, your body becomes your only home. Fitness and movement have been our anchors, our shared practice. These are the things we’ve prioritised in every place we’ve stayed, and they’ve kept us steady.
It’s no longer about chasing experiences. It’s about feeling grounded in the ones I have.
The Unexpected Joys
What has made me happiest on this trip? A fridge full of veggies, cold water after a workout, a spot with a view for my yoga practice, a friendly neighbour, a washing machine, the sound of nature. The things that bring me peace now are so simple.
If I compare this to two years ago, I thought I needed a sleek apartment with designer furniture, luxury holidays, beautiful clothes and a shelf full of heels. Now, I can’t even remember what I kept and what I donated before we left. Opening that storage cage one day will be a surprise for us both.
The Unsettling and the Surprising
It’s funny what disturbs me now. Noisy traffic. Rudeness. Impatience. Coach rides. Airports. These things used to be normal, a constant low hum in the background of life. But now that I’ve slowed down, I feel them more sharply.
Even how I look has changed. And not just a tan or muscle tone from training. My face is less puffy. My jaw is less tense. The dark circles are fading. It’s like my body is learning to soften, to stop bracing all the time. Even in stressful moments, it doesn’t feel like it used to. That, to me, is growth.
Redefining Purpose
At one point, I thought content creation would naturally follow. I write. I take photos. But something about seeing everything through the lens of “the post” felt empty. It became performative. It went against everything I want to live by.
I don’t want to sell you a place. I want to help you come home to yourself, wherever you are.
When I slow down, have a morning practice, eat mindfully and move with purpose, I feel present. When I train with care and optimism, I feel strong. This is no longer about escaping life. It’s about building a better one.
10 Things I’d Do Differently
If I had to map this year of travel out again, these are the lessons I’d carry with me:
1. Plan for places that meet your needs, not just your wishlist.
Instagram can make anywhere look perfect. But it doesn’t tell you what it’s like to live there. I’ve realised that Ubud, Bali feeds my body and soul in a way that somewhere like Bangkok never could. I wish I’d planned for more of that kind of alignment, not just ticking boxes.
2. Don’t let far-off bookings tie you down.
We booked a retreat five months ahead with a yoga community I love from Melbourne. I’m sure it will be incredible, but it kept us in Southeast Asia longer than we wanted. I often wonder if we’d moved on to Europe earlier, what might have opened up for us.
3. Seek greater variety in destinations.
SEA has been beautiful, but after the 15th temple and 10th similar market, things start to blur. I still love a good temple, but next time I’ll mix it up more: a city, then a beach, then a village, to stay curious.
4. Travel days are more draining than you think.
We now treat them as work days. We plan coffees, find spots to sit with our laptops, and use layovers for slow lunches. It helps. Otherwise, you end up just waiting and wasting energy.
5. Cook more meals for yourself.
This was a huge turning point. Once we started preparing our own food, alongside our fitness focus, we saw the biggest transformation in energy, digestion, and overall mood. It helped me tune in to what my body actually needed, not just what was convenient.
6. Take joint goals with you, not just shared interests.
The fact that we’re both focused on long-term health has helped us move together with purpose. We train solo, but we support each other. That’s been more rewarding than any sightseeing we’ve done.
7. Don’t overlook the boring bits, like packing routines.
We’ve turned it into a timing game. I can be packed or unpacked in under 10 minutes now. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps things smooth and arguments low.
8. Expect things to go wrong, and let them.
We’ve had damp rooms, horrible Airbnb hosts, and a hotel with no taxis for miles. In the moment, it’s awful. Later, they become the stories you’ll laugh about. Maybe.
9. Rest isn’t lazy. It’s necessary.
Pool days, slow mornings, sun on the skin, they’ve been healing. I’ve never had so many freckles in my life. My Vitamin D levels are back up and that’s not nothing. Even in sunny Australia, modern life kept me indoors. That rhythm is not always natural.
10. Make space for decision fatigue.
Even simple choices, what to eat, where to stay, which route to take, get tiring. When you’re living this way long-term, it's not just a holiday. It’s your life. And decisions weigh more than they used to.
The Real Lesson
I often wonder how it might’ve felt to travel in my early 20s. Would I have moved through the world with less expectation, less responsibility, fewer wounds?
Maybe. But I’m here now. And I’m listening more closely than ever to what I need.
The biggest truth? How you show up will always shape what you experience. You could be in the most beautiful place in the world, but if your mind and body are disconnected, you’ll still find things to criticise. Your problems come with you.
Presence, gratitude and self-awareness are the only tools that make the moment meaningful. Otherwise, it all becomes noise.
Nothing changes if nothing changes
It’s a phrase I think about often. Sometimes the changes are small, a fridge full of veg, a new routine, a pause. Other times they’re seismic.
Either way, you change. And that’s the point.
Here’s to Chapter Three. Let’s see what it has to teach me.
