The End of the Road? Life After Long-Term Travel
Something strange has happened recently; something I never thought would happen. Iāve lost my enthusiasm for travel.
This surprises me, because Iād always assumed that the travel bug (in my case it was more like a full-blown stage-4 terminal travel tumour) was a chronic condition, like tinnitus or arthritis ā you canāt cure it, just manage it and accept it and hope that it doesnāt interfere too much with your regular life.
Or maybe itās like herpes, in that once youāve caught it it never truly goes away, just hides under your skin waiting to flare up again at an inopportune moment.
Or maybe itās like a heroin addiction, in that it costs a lot of money, tears you away from your family, and the next hit can never fully satisfy, but itās inspired a helluva lot of great music.
Whatever the case, after nearly three years on the road, my symptoms have subsided. Whether this is a full recovery or temporary remission, itās too early to say, but I just donāt feel like moving around anymore.
Partly this is because Iāve found a great city (Barcelona) that I reallyĀ love and that I see no reason to leave. But the truth is I was already feeling this way before I got here. My original plan had been to spend the summer in Spain, then find somewhere to settle down for a while (maybe even ā shock, horror! ā move back to England), but now that Iām here, Iāve realised that Barcelona meets every criteria I have for that somewhere, so in Spain Iām staying. A year ago, I dreamed of continuing my travels for the rest of my life and never stopping the world tour. Now, my feelings have somehow been completely reversed, and the thought of moving cities or countries yet againĀ completely fails to inspire me.
Please donāt mistake any of this for a complaint. The 33 months (and counting) that Iāve spent outside the UK truly have been fantastic, and I wouldnāt trade them for anything. Iāve lived in five countries, visited another nine, filled an entire passport with stamps, learned three new languages, taken forty-six flights, drunk in hundreds of bars, motorbiked thousands of miles, worked from a million cafĆ©s, started one job, quit the same, started one business, been in one car crash, spent three nights in hospital (unrelated to the car crash), collected a zillion funny stories and fond memories, and, of course, made more new friends than I can count, which is the most important thing of all. Itās been intense.
I could go on at length about all the many benefits of travel ā adventure, fun, growth, appreciating other cultures (not to mention your own), ābroadening your horizonsā and other such clichĆ©s, but you probably donāt need to be told them. Suffice to say that, in a very real way, I have become the person I am in the last 1000ish days. I have no regrets, and if I could do it all again the only change Iād make would be to start sooner.
But, like everything else in life,Ā the benefits of travel have a point of diminishing returns, and I passed that point a while ago. There are some things ā many things ā that you can only get by spending a long time in one place, and Iām tired of not having them. Itās time to plant some roots and build a life for myself thatās tied to one specific location; in other words, to become a bit more like a normal person.
Iāll admit that this gives me somewhat of an identity crisis. For basically my entire adult life, travel has been at or near the top of my list of priorities, and Iāve built it into every long-term plan and vision Iāve ever made. Itās only recently that I realise that this might not have been the healthiest obsession. Travel is fun, but itās hardly an achievement. Who cares how many countries a person has visited in their life? No-one ever changed the world by collecting enough frequent flyer miles. What matters is what you do once you get off the plane.
Iāve been in Barcelona for a few months, and I stillĀ feel like I only just got here. I canāt imagine leaving now when Iām just getting started. It takes aĀ long timeĀ to truly settle into a place, and Iāve come to the conclusion that there are no shortcuts. I know a lot of people in the digital nomad / lifestyle design /Ā location-independent lifestyle entrepreneur / (insert your favourite cringeworthy neologismĀ here) scene would disagree, and claim that with a bit of practice you can squeeze all the juice out of a new city in a matter of months, but Iām not convinced. I suspect that theyāre just kidding themselves. Rome wasnāt built in a day, and creatingĀ a real life (not to mention a social circle) for yourself in a wholly new location canāt be done within the confines of a 90-day tourist visa, no matter how much shallow fun you try to pack in in the short-term.
I guess there are parallels with romance. Being single has its benefits, as do dating around, āplaying the fieldā, and chasing a bunch of different girls (or guys, if thatās what youāre into), but thereās a reason why almost everybody eventually settles down with just one partner, or wants to. Flitting around from date to date, or from location to location, can beĀ a lot of fun, but in the long-term itās hardly the most satisfying way to live (for most people). Depth beats breadth.
(And as much as IāveĀ been an evangelistĀ for Southeast Asia, the truth is that its biggest selling point has always just been that itāsĀ easy. Itās a cheap, laid-back, low-pressure place to live, which is great, and I got a huge amount personally out of the year and a half I spent living inĀ Vietnam, Thailand, and Indonesia, but it should go without saying that the easy option is rarely the best option for long-term growth and fulfilment. Not to mention that there are many, many things about the Western world ā politically, culturally, economically, and more ā that I didnāt appreciate until I left, and now that Iām back I wouldnāt want to be anywhere else. Every now and then I catch myself thinking āmaybe I should move back to Vietnamā ā but then I realise that thatās just the path of least resistance, which is no sensible way to make major life decisions. Iām sure Iāll be back to Asia to visit, but Iām thoroughly done with living there. Diminishing returns, folks.)
So, providing Nigel Farage doesnāt get his way and fuck up my ability to stay long-term in the EU, it looks like Iām in Spain for the foreseeable future. Iām sure Iāll be travelling again at some point ā there are still plenty of places I want to see and things I want to do out there in the big wide world ā but itās not a priority anymore. Let the next chapter begin.