Category: Nomad life

There Are No Busses on Sundays


September 24, 2023
Sometimes, the best days happen when things don’t go according to plan.
I have been traveling in Croatia with old friends, a married couple, for the past nine days. We are a compatible trio, all three active, outdoorsy types. In fact, it was during a cross-country ski and snowshoe trip last winter that we decided to plan an adventure together.
I was ecstatic when Nancy offered to help with the planning because, in my nomad life, I am constantly working on my itinerary.
We met up at the Dubrovnik airport just over a week ago, and the trip has gone exceptionally well until…


Yesterday afternoon, before we left Mljet Island, the rain came in with a vengeance. We had been enduring some feisty winds, but rain can really put a damper on the fun.
After trying to remain dry, we boarded the ferry for a 30-minute ride to Korcula. Our host generously offered to pick us up, and the rain had momentarily stopped when we arrived.
Then the thunder and lightning returned yesterday evening. So much for our plans to paddle board tomorrow.
Our power went out around 3:00 AM and didn’t come on until about 10:00 AM.
Our host felt terrible about the weather and the power outage. This morning, he brought us some candy and a bottle of wine as a consolation. (As if he could control the weather.) He also realized that a close lightning strike had blown out our modem and had a new one ready for us when we returned this evening. Such a nice man!


After a brief break early this morning, the thunder, lightning, and rain continued until about 11:00 AM.

Then the skies started to look hopeful.

We did have a couple of other issues, though.
Last night, we discovered that no public buses were running on Sundays.
Today, no Uber drivers responded to our request.
No problem. We are walkers. We could easily cover the three miles into town.


The weather was much more promising by noon, and we walked out the door.
Along the way, we stopped to inspect local plant life, saw a monument to World War I soldiers from the island, and visited a Marian shrine.


We ended up having a fabulous time exploring the old city of Korcula. It is a picture-perfect medieval town located on the beautiful Adriatic waters. The rain had cleared the air, making for an exceptional day.
After searching for the right restaurant to cater to my gluten-free diet, we enjoyed a scrumptious lunch by the old city gate. I had eggs benedict for the first time in many years, and we all enjoyed chocolate mousse cake with pistachios for dessert.


After lunch, we wandered through town and climbed the church tower for the best views of the day.


Then we walked along the waterfront, checking out the different buildings, sections of the old city walls, and the luxurious modern yachts in the harbor.


After stopping for groceries, we took the backroads home and saw things most tourists miss.


The 101 stone steps up to the Votive Chapel of Saint Anthony.


The cypress trees were planted in 1708 after the chapel was renovated (originally built in the 15th century).
The last leg of the journey back to our apartment took us through rural areas bound by stone walls with abundant olive trees.


What looked like a potential disaster of a day ended up being one of my best travel days yet!

Getting There, Exhaustion, and the Kindness of Strangers

August 30, 2023

I arrived in Durham, England, last night after a grueling day of travel from Seattle.
But first, let’s get something straight—my travel went remarkably smoothly, especially given my international flight history. My son says I’m about 50-50 for getting an on-time, smooth flight out of Seattle.
About a year ago, my flight to Spain was delayed 24 hours. A couple of other times, my luggage didn’t arrive with me. And there was that time when my sister and I spent seven hours at SeaTac Airport shopping, drinking wine, and getting pedicures.
On the day of my departure, there had been traffic control issues at Heathrow. I happened to be listening to BBC radio as I was driving around that day. I thought for sure my flight would be delayed for the second year in a row.
Miraculously, we departed on time. The plane was about 70% full, so the flight attendant switched my seat to one with extra legroom and an empty seat next to me. My window seat companion was amiable and slept most of the way. Couldn’t ask for better.
We arrived on time but had to wait for a spot to deplane. We were only minutes late, and I high-tailed it through the security checkpoint to baggage claim. I needed to get to King’s Cross Station on the tube to catch my 6:30 train to Durham. I’m sure I walked at least a mile through Heathrow, but I easily found the subway station and was on my way with time to spare.
When I arrived at King’s Cross at 6:00, I had to wait for the platform announcement. Phew! I had time to spare.
Once I boarded the train, I could relax and enjoy the three-hour journey. I watched the sunset from the window and fought to stay awake while munching on some local junk food.


Durham Train Station was quiet at 9:30 p.m., as no one was there. It was also well after dark.
I called the phone number posted for taxis and received a text back. In their reply, I was informed that a taxi would be available at 11:00 p.m.
As I was texting, a woman appeared. I shared my taxi woes with her, and she asked where I was going.
“I’ll share my Uber with you. The castle is on the way to my house.”
She lives in Durham and didn’t know that one could rent a dorm room in the converted castle during the summer months. She appreciated the information, and I was oh-so-grateful for the ride.
The driver dropped me off at Palace Green. Straight ahead was the beautifully lit Cathedral. But where was the Porters Lodge where I was to check in?


I spotted a young couple on a romantic stroll, and they offered to help. In fact, they said they would stay with me until we found it. I felt fortunate to experience the kindness of strangers in my exhausted state.
It was relatively easy to find, and I successfully checked in.
The porter then showed me where to enter the building and gave me the security code. He said I would need to “go up a few” and I would find my room.
You know how you feel when you are sleep-deprived, and you can’t quite think straight? There’s also a physical ache that comes with that exhaustion.
Well, I had to go up a “few” flights of stairs to get to my room. I left the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs to assess the situation. I’ve checked into a few unclean (and one occupied) rooms, and I didn’t want to lug up that suitcase twice.


I’m happy to report that all was well. Who wouldn’t want to sleep in an ancient castle with modern amenities?
I got to sleep before midnight and woke up around 7:30. Breakfast is served in the Great Hall from 8:00-10:00 and is included in the price of the stay. It’s an all-you-can-imagine-to-eat affair, and the Great Hall, built in the 13th century, has been the social hub of the castle for centuries. I love to walk through historic sites but rarely get to eat or sleep in them.


Looks like this adventure is off to a pretty good start!

No Apologies for My Solo Nomad Lifestyle

August 13, 2023

I have been here in Hawaii (aka The Big Island) for a week—by myself. You are probably wondering what is wrong with me. Does she smell awful? Why doesn’t she have any friends? Seriously, who would go to Hawaii alone??

Well, it just didn’t work out this time. I had been holding a place for my older son, and he had to bow out due to other commitments. Then I tried a couple of friends. One had too many things scheduled in August, and another may be able to join me for a few days at the end of the trip. A single guy friend figured it wouldn’t go over too well with his new girlfriend. Fair enough.

So here I am, by myself.

The trip got off to a rocky start. My flight was delayed, and I was lucky enough to get a loud, kicking preschooler in the seat behind me.

By the time I checked in and got settled for bed, it was 3:00 AM back home.

My first full day in Hawaii consisted of sleeping in, exchanging my malfunctioning rental car, grocery shopping, and a late afternoon swim before dinner. Ah, paradise!

While driving around that first day, I heard the high wind warnings on the car radio. Hurricane Dora was passing south of the Hawaiian Islands.

In case you’ve been living in a cave, I’ll tell you what happened next. Dry conditions and high winds caused devastating wildfires on Maui and some smaller fires here on the Big Island.

I took a nice long beach walk Tuesday morning before the winds kicked up. I then spent the afternoon and evening safely in my condo, watching the trees sway, palm fronds and branches dropping to the ground.

The news the next day was heartbreaking. Beautiful, historic Lahaina had been devastated by the fires. As of today, we know that more than 100 people lost their lives.

Hearing that news about the neighboring island put a damper on the joy of my visit. I stayed close to my accommodations on Wednesday since a section of the highway was closed due to the fires.

I went out to attempt a hike on Thursday morning, hoping that the winds had calmed. Nope. Still super windy. Instead, I opted to shop at the health food store and Foodland in Waimea. At this point, I clearly was not going to starve. In my defense, I rarely eat out.

Finally, on Friday morning, I headed way up to Pololu on the north end of the island to hike the short but steep trail down to the black sand beach. Now I could start fully enjoying my time on the islands. This was the Hawaii I knew and loved.

Yesterday, I went to three farmers’ markets up in Waimea, all unique and lively. Hawaiian farmers markets make me so happy. I love seeing the exotic fruits and vegetables and meeting the people who grow them.

I enjoyed a leisurely shoreline walk in the afternoon and went for my pre-dinner swim, which has become part of my daily routine.

This is my first time alone in Hawaii, but I have visited a few times in the past. I’m doing what I want and settling into the pace of my days. I have the luxury of being here for more than two weeks, so the typical must-see tourist urgency is lacking. I sit out on the patio after lunch most days and read in the shade. This morning, I lingered on the beach and watched turtles for an hour.

From this day forward, I will never apologize for my solo travels. (Although, I’m happy when friends can join me, and I won’t complain if Mr. Wonderful shows up to accompany me.)

In a couple of days, I’m heading to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. I’ve arranged a two-night stay in the area to fully explore the park. Not a screaming deal this time but worth it for the location.

I got online today to make a dinner reservation at The Rim restaurant in the park. Even though I prepare most of my own food, I occasionally go out to eat. This restaurant has been on my “to do” list for a while along with some hikes in the park. I’ll burn the calories and enjoy the splurge.

For the first time, I had the option of making a reservation for ONE. (Usually, the dropdown options start at two.)

I feel like it’s a good sign.

My Biggest Burden as a Nomad


August 4, 2023
I have been living a nomadic life for just over a year now. There have been many adjustments along the way, and my lifestyle continues to evolve.
Over the past few months, I have added house-sitting and pet-sitting. In fact, I’ve only paid for one night in a hotel this summer. I’ve hiked and paddle-boarded to my heart’s content and caught up with friends and family in my home state. Indeed, I can’t complain.


But being in my home area, there is also something I can’t avoid—my storage unit.
When I sold my house and most of its contents last year, I gave up a lot, but not everything. I still have my car; the rest is in the ten-by-ten storage unit.
I dread going to that storage unit. Why?
It’s too full and too hard to find anything.
I thought I had a great idea last spring when my son helped me set up two shelving units. But honestly, it is still too cluttered. Also, when my sister passed away last January, I re-inherited some things that I had given her.
Becoming a minimalist is a journey, and I’m still working on it. My travel wardrobe is pared down, but I still have a few bins full of clothes in that storage unit. I will defend my winter wardrobe and sports-related attire, but I’m not sure if I have a decent excuse to keep the rest.


And then there are those bins of mementos, my personal history that I haven’t been able to part with yet. Perhaps I could reduce the number of containers.
The bottom line is that I don’t think I will be a nomad forever. That’s why giving up some of those big items like my vacuum cleaner and favorite wool rug is hard.
I plan to pare down a bit more when I return from my next adventure. I’m impressed with fellow nomads who have “a few boxes in someone else’s garage.” I’m not sure if I will ever get there, but that’s okay. We are each navigating our own journey.

Update: August 11, 2024

I did, indeed, manage to downsize my storage unit last spring before embarking on another extended European journey. In the process, I also saved myself some money by switching to a 7 x 10 unit, which was one-third the price!

Now I can roll out my bike and get to the items I’m seeking. I realized that I could dispose of some of those mementos and Christmas decorations without missing them. And paring down my wardrobe is a constant battle.

The dreaded storage unit no longer feels like a burden!

Nomad Life: How Did I Get Here?

June 20, 2023

Do you ever stop and wonder about the twists and turns of your life?

Mine has taken many in the past five years.

If you had told me in June 2018 that in five years, I would be homeless by choice and changing doggie diapers, I don’t know if I would have laughed, freaked out, or broken down in tears.

But here I am.

You see, I was one of those Type A people who liked to be in control and lead a tidy, secure life. I was a lifelong educator, and although I always found it challenging, I figured I would segway into a new career at some point.

In fact, I did make a change in 2018. I sold my condo in the Seattle area and moved to Montana’s Flathead Valley.

This is it! I thought. But it wasn’t.

Don’t get me wrong—there were a lot of wonderful outcomes from that move. I enjoyed a year of outdoor recreation and made tons of new friends. What I didn’t do was plan for a source of income. I was overly optimistic about finding a suitable job that would give me some income but still allow for ample time in the great outdoors. It just didn’t work out.

I have an old friend who firmly believes life is all about timing. I guess I didn’t time that one right.

After a year, I returned to my home state, Washington, and returned to my safe but stressful career teaching high school. I took a position in Eastern Washington, thinking that changing to a smaller rural school would be better and keep me closer to new friends in Montana.

Then, you know what happened: Pandemic. There’s nothing like being in a new job in a new location and then being locked up alone in your isolated home in the country.  

A couple of months into the pandemic, a friend and colleague stopped by for an on-the-porch visit. She encouraged me to head back to the west side of the state to be closer to friends and family. It was May, and we still didn’t know what the following months and years would bring.

I got online, found an appropriate open position, arranged for a nontraditional interview, and got the job.

It was time to move again.

I bought a “fixer-upper” to have something to do. Ha! I would not recommend remodeling a house during a pandemic. Supply shortages, inflated prices…it was not a fun experience.

That’s the short version of what led me to my current lifestyle.

If you or someone close to you works in public education, you know how tough the past few years have been. We teachers have been dropping like flies.

A year ago, I decided to sell that newly remodeled house, got rid of most of my possessions, and quit my job. Another teacher down.

My initial plan was to retire in Spain, at least for a year or two. I had traveled there about a dozen times over the years, and two involved longer stays in educational programs. I had always loved Spain. Why not live the Spanish ex-pat life for a while?

After traveling around the Western US in the summer of 2022, I set out for a three-month trip to Europe in September. I had an apartment reserved in Valencia, Spain, for the month of October. It would be an excellent trial period to see if I wanted to live there for a year or two.

In the end, I realized that traveling was what gave me the most joy. Exploring new places fed my soul like nothing else in life.

I had been following the blog of a nomadic couple from Seattle for several months. Initially, I thought there was no way I would ever do it. Nine months later, I realized it was exactly what I wanted to do.

So here I am. My nomadic lifestyle continues to evolve.

Last December, I returned from Europe to find my sister in a poor state physically and emotionally. I instantly put the brakes on my life to take care of her. I rented a house for three months (negotiated an Airbnb) to allow us time to assess her health and make a plan. I was ready to go back to work, at least part-time.

Sadly, my sister passed away from pancreatic cancer in January.

I decided to keep the short-term rental through March, as planned, to grieve and help sort out my sister’s affairs. Looking back, it was the right move. I spent more time with my adult children than I had in years, and there were numerous visits with family and friends. I also bonded further with my niece and her husband and kids.

That experience made me realize that I needed a hybrid plan. I wanted to spend a chunk of the year in Western Washington near family and friends. In other words, this is still home. I don’t want to lose that.

After traveling throughout the western states again this spring, I arrived “home” on June first. I was able to arrange pet-sitting and house-sitting gigs in the area through mid-July.

One of the most important things I have learned over the past few years is to be flexible because changes will always arise.

And there are no rules to the nomadic lifestyle. You can make it what you want.

Who knows? I may go back to work one of these days. For now, I appreciate the freedom and joy that come with simplifying.