What 150 days of Nomad Life Taught Me

TLN #4. 150 days in.

Current situation: Budapest, Hungary.

It’s dawn. I’m wearing a long blue kimono, drinking espresso at a white desk, listening to a “dreamy music” playlist. The wood desk is scattered with tech gadgets and bowls from the kitchen where I throw keys, coins, pens, and lipstick. The one-bedroom apartment in Budapest is my favorite sleep so far. Probably because it feels elegant—like the kind of place Carrie Bradshaw would have stayed in Paris.

The walls are creamy white, with tall windows dressed in beige curtains that touch the floor. The ceiling must be 15 feet high, but the floors are the best part—dark wood so glossy they reflect everything around them.

In the kitchen are my finds from Aldi—mini peaches, apples, eggs, butter, rye bread, cheese, and sausages. On the couch sits a red duffel bag, stuffed with all the “I can’t carry you anymore” things I’m about to ship back to the States. I massively overpacked, go figure.

In a few hours, I’m meeting a private guide I found on WithLocals.com. It’s the best way to kickstart learning about a new neighborhood. The guide usually shares their WhatsApp number, so it feels like having a local friend you can text. Tip them well.

Here’s the kicker: as sophisticated as this apartment feels, when you look out the window, you’re staring at this ancient, tall stone building with carved faces near the roofline. The faces are honestly a little creepy. Not quite gargoyles—more like Greek gods or something, mouths wide open, frozen mid-scream. My first thought was: Are they trying to tell me something, like—What have you done?

I know exactly what I’ve done.

I had a big idea to leave the States to test out living in other countries. The calling was strong. Six countries in, countless beds, and thousands of miles later, I have zero regrets and no return plans—still.

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Grocery store in Krakow, Poland

What I’ve Learned

The concept of living nomadically is as thrilling as it looks online. In some places, a month feels right, and in others, two weeks is plenty. It usually takes me about five days to figure that out. I don’t have a master plan, but a floating one. For example, in Poland when I realized Budapest and Prague were an easy bus ride away—off I went.

Adjusting to life where I am the minority, the foreigner, is easier than I thought. With tools like Google Maps, Google Translate, ChatGPT—and the help of Facebook groups—fellow nomads and expats are always ready to share advice or meet up. We learn from each other with this sense of community only we really understand. It feels a bit like being in a secret society.

Three Americans meet up to share stories. Instant friends.

The day-to-day routines aren’t so different from how I lived at home. Morning walks, work days, grocery shopping—it’s all still there, just without the part where I jump in my car for the usual Target or Costco runs. Now, I’m figuring out public transport with a backpack, passing incredible scenery like zillion-year-old grand palaces and giant churches. Places filled with history I used to only see in movies. Places where I imagine horse-drawn carriages clattering by or people just trying to survive and rebuild after invasions and wars. New discoveries are at every corner. Even in places I’ve stayed longer, there’s that feeling of newness.

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The Reality of Cost

Accommodations are more expensive than I expected. So many things come into play I didn’t think about—like high season pricing and booking algorithms that seem to change daily. Some apartments have been surprisingly affordable, while others were almost the same as renting back home.

All of it has just made me more determined to work harder, to figure it out. I’m learning to watch for deals, book longer stays for discounts, be flexible and master the points game.

It’s become clear that somethings are priceless -like living this way.

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On Being Alone

Logistics aside, the emotional part surprised me the most.

I am alone but not lonely. Hard to explain, but it’s true—thankfully. There’s a satisfied, quiet feeling that is peaceful. Small interactions with strangers bring a sense of connection too —like the Balinese lady who gave me a thumbs up from her motorcycle when she saw me wearing traditional holy day clothes.

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Humans Are Good

The best thing I’ve learned is that humans are good, everywhere. Today, at the Burger King bathroom, you had to put a coin in this little turnstile to get in. I didn’t have any coins and my phone pay wouldn’t work. A man just tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a coin without saying a word.

In Turkey, I spilled coffee all over myself while on a ferry. The two people sitting next to me immediately reached into their bags and handed me tissues. Moments like that remind me people are kind, no matter where you are.

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What I Miss

The only real thing I miss is Amazon deliveries. But isn’t this what I signed up for? Modern conveniences are not a dealbreaker. Trading a fixed address for seeing the world is exactly how I want to live. I’m not getting younger.

Practical Things I’ve Learned

• Airalo eSIM instantly connects your phone in each new country.

• Contacting accommodation owners through WhatsApp to ask about direct pricing or longer-stay discounts works.

• When trying to figure out the difference between things like sour cream, milk, and yogurt in a store, snap a photo and ask ChatGPT to translate or explain. Same for landmarks = free tour guide.

• You don’t need eight pairs of shoes. Seriously.

• Packing cubes are a must for keeping everything organized and making repacking easier.

Somewhere in Poland

Closing Thoughts

It’s funny—people sometimes ask if this life is hard or if I’m ever “coming home.” My answer is always the same: I don’t know. But for now, I’ll keep going.

Even the low moments — food poisoning in Vietnam or a snake in my room in Bali, none of it feels hard. It feels like what I am supposed to be doing / experiencing. I’ve learned that home is simply where you say it is.

I’ve also realized that life on the road is easier than I imagined. Not because I’m special or fearless, but because once you start, you realize it’s just life—only with better perspectives.

Tomorrow I’m getting my hair done at a salon where no one speaks English. It makes me think of Eat Pray Love, when Liz asks her friend, “What did you have for lunch today?” and she says, “A SlimFast.” Then Liz says: “I used to have this appetite for my life, and it is just gone. I want to go someplace where I can marvel again.”

Exactly.

I don’t know about you, but I sure want my days to marvel too.

If you’re thinking about doing something similar, my only advice is: don’t wait until you feel “ready.” You’ll never be fully ready. You learn by going. You figure it out by doing. And… you’ll give yourself a chance to marvel again.