One Month On the Road - a Round the World (RTW) Trip Update

TIME MOVES SLOW ON THE ROAD

I can’t believe it’s already been a month since I left Philadelphia! From the start of pandemic, it’s felt like time has not stopped flying by. On the road, it’s been the extreme opposite. It feels like I might return from this adventure next year as a 72 year old man.

I’m going to try to write up one of these summaries every month - though I’ll definitely keep working on my format as I go (so please give me feedback if there’re things you want to hear more or less about). If you think anyone else would enjoy these summaries, have them sign up for the mailing list here. I’m not going to include pictures in this summary. If you want to see pictures, click through to any of the city summaries, and follow our Instagram.

I’m going to start all my summaries with some summary numbers of what I’ve been up to.

Cities This Month: 13; Total So Far: 13

Countries This Month: 3; Total So Far: 3

Countries I Ate Avocado Toast In This Month: 2; Total So Far: 2

Miles Walked This Month: 386.9; Total So Far: 386.9

I’VE SEEN AMAZING THINGS

My big hope for this journey was that I’d be able to reboot myself a little by experiencing awe and wonder. It seems to be working. I’ve never felt so small and inconsequential in my life - in a really beautiful, freeing way. The world and the history of humanity just seem so much bigger than me as I walk through them - and I feel a part of something much bigger than myself. An unexpected consequence of this trip has been a genuine coming back to spirituality for me - and a return to prayer.

I spent time in a couple of places that I would love to come back and spend months in; they each connected to and sparked things deep within me. Granada was a city rich in history that displayed it fully, and the combination of students and backbackers create a free-spirit vibe that I just fell in love with. Marseille reminded me of Philly; it’s got a long historical reputation of being gritty and seedy, has a lively, rebellious, in your face culture, and just bleeds authenticity. I know those are cities that I’ll be back in, hopefully for months and not days.

As I moved through Portugal, Spain, and France, I found things to fall in love with in every city I spent time in. I have longer (linked) recaps of each, but I’ll give my biggest takeaways below. I put asterisks next to the ones I will likely find reason to return to, exclamation marks next to the ones I got my fill of but found thoroughly charming and worth the trip, and left the cities that were a bit less remarkable to me without anything.

For me, Lisbon* jump-started my awe journey with its idyllic streets, hillside architecture, and street art.
Sintra! felt a bit like an amusement part with its extravagant castles and palaces.
My imagination and inner wizard was sparked wandering through the old streets of Coimbra! and seeing the university students in their capes.
Porto served up stunning river views and sunsets.
I was charmed by the lover’s bridge in the Aveiro canals.
I got lost in picturing what life was like 300 years ago in the well-preserved historical center of Salamanca!.
I remembered the joy of spending time in public spaces while in Seville - with its Plaza de España being one of the most stunning public spaces I’ve spent time in.
I was awestruck by Valencia rerouting a river out of the city and building a five mile continuous park in the former riverbed.
Beyond reclaiming the space where I ended my engagment, Barcelona* once again felt like walking through art - and reminded me that anything functional can be beautiful and creative.
Toulouse dripped the southern France charm I always dreamed of.
Bordeaux* offered a multicultural, vibrant, opulent French dream that I didn’t even know that I had.

I’m amazed by how big the regional differences are between cities in Europe. The history of major empires rising and falling through the same cities leave distinct cultural imprints on each - and its fun to see how each region has adapted naturally to its own climate. It’s helped reinforce my current growth edge of “move with the world, don’t control it” as I see the way Europe has naturally adjusted and accepted what is over time in its culture and architecture. Maybe one day my American need to wrangle control of everything I touch will die.

In June, I head to: Nice, Genoa, Milan, Zurich, Geneva, Lyon, Brussels, Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Luxembourg, Paris, and London.

IT’S BEEN A LEARNING PROCESS

I can’t say that the entire journey has been unrelentingly awesome (although it has been incredible). It can be tough to adjust to life on the road. I have to pack everything that I have every few days and haul it to a new city; I’m always learning and living in a new place; I’m suddenly on a much tighter budget; I’m always struggling through a new language; I now live my life in dorms and on buses. It’s brilliant . . . And it can also be hard. It requires I constantly reflect on what is really important to me and make active work of finding gratitude for everything I’m experiencing. In no real order, here are some thoughts, meaningful experiences, and adjustments I’ve had in my first month. It’s probably rambling . . . But the kinds of lessons and thoughts that have come with this journey have also been random compared to the ones I have in my normal day-to-day life. This has radically shaken me out of my cultural scripts, and it makes me question pretty much everything about life. There’s a real beauty to that.

I’ve spent a TON of time reflecting on why I didn’t do this sooner as it’s been a lifelong dream. As I travel, I meet amazing people who are cycling the world, walking the world, volunteering in hostels as they go, or picking up odd jobs. I meet digital nomads and people like me living off of fairly frugal savings. My big takeaway so far is that these kinds of dreams - of freedom, exploration, travel, and simpler lives - are often much more accessible than we believe. Seeing how feasible so much of it is, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what in human neural wiring causes us to convince ourselves that these kinds of dreams are inaccessible. Adults, and I can see clearly how severely I’ve done it, spend so much energy finding justifications to limit themselves to the shoulds and musts of modern living - spend so much time predicting and preempting the kind of adversity they faced in their past when they had less power - and find all sorts of ways to prop up their self-doubts, lack of self-acceptance, or weak self-love with justifications and excuses about why they can’t do things. More often than not, the real reason is they (adults, including myself) can’t justify their worthiness or break repetitive cycles of the familiar. One thing that’s coming through loud and clear for me is that - as adults (myself included), most of the time, it is us holding ourselves back - and there’s an incredible rich ecosystem of people living vibrant, cheap, simple lives below the surface of our cultural scripts that we could join if we got out of our heads and made the leap. That’s not me trying to diminish real adversity - which I acknowledge is alive and potent. But our bodies are designed to amplify real-world adversity by having a nervous system wiring that spends its quiet time thinking about all the bad things that could happen - and that fictional / imagined adversity is our own doing and within our power; we are biologically designed to survive - not necessarily to thrive. The world will hand us terrible things, and we will have to handle them as they come; but we should not spend our life force tackling adversity that hasn’t come yet; we should not spend our time fabricating and tackling potential adversity for ourselves. Life becomes a lot easier when we’re self-assured in who we are and what is acceptable to us, have the skill sets to handle tough situations, and just take them as they come instead.

The single most joyful moment I had was killing mosquitoes with my dorm mates for 90 minutes. The night before we all hardly slept because the hostel room was full of mosquitoes who wouldn’t leave us alone. All night, we could hear each other wake up to go on our own killing sprees (after we had evolved through the stages of trying to just accept it, then trying to cocoon ourselves in blankets, and eventually reaching a murderous rage). So, the next night before bed, we waged an all-out-war to get rid of them. The entire exercise was just so childish and fun - and it was a real reminder to me of what matters in life. We weren’t pretending to be anything, putting on airs, or collectively numbing or avoiding. We were just ephemeral allies who got together to deal with a shared problem and made a game of it, laughing through our shared struggle and finding kinship in dealing with it. It reminded me that many of the best things in life are free - and are not undilutedly good. Many of the best things in the world involve navigating manageable adversity (not oppressive adversity) with people you enjoy, and finding humor and joy in the midst of it.
I now shower every other day and wear the same clothes two days in a row unless I smell; if I’m being radically honest, I pushed this to four days just now. There’s a good chance I’ll keep this up in the States. I’m not sure there’s a real purpose to a full shower when we’re not very dirty - and my eco-self is now acutely aware of the water and energy I’m wasting.
I hand wash my laundry every other day and hang dry it. It only takes like 20 minutes and I watch TV while I do it; it’s really not that bad and works well. I also don’t know why I ever used the dryer and will almost certainly return to hang drying when I’m back. Dryers take quite a bit of energy, and my eco-self is now guilty for how much I’ve wasted.
FOMO doesn’t disappear just because you’re doing awesome things; in fact, sometimes it’s worse because you are constantly deciding what awesome things not to do. Like with any kind of joy forbearance, the antidote to FOMO is gratitude for what is happening. I make a constant practice of savoring everything that is happening to me, and have a equanimity practice around coming to terms with not being able to do everything. (Of course, FOMO is still a recurrent issue for me.)
Peanuts, dark chocolate, and bread all have extremely good dollar-to-calorie ratios; I usually have these in my bag wherever I go.
I always buy local fruit - and usually keep some in my bag. Increasingly, I see that fruit is joy.
Pastries also have very good dollar-to-calorie-to-deliciousness ratios for me. I rarely eat out at restaurants but I go to a bakery most days.
For me, bars pretty much never have high relative dollar-to-joy return; if I’m being really honest, most restaurants don’t either. Bakeries and quick-service places are much higher return. As a result, I almost never use my budget on bars or sit-down restaurants.
A toiletry bag is a godsend when you’re constantly moving your stuff into and out of the shared bathroom.
The universe tends to provide the people you need in the moment if you’re open to them. Without trying to force friendships, people happen nearby in hostels in needs-responsive ways if I remain open to it.
The same goes for everything. I find the best way to spend my days is not to force anything to occur, but to be open to things occurring as the universe provides. I have a really distinct memory of walking through Granada and being like “it’d be so nice to have gelato” and like 15 minutes later bumping into a place with vegan gelato . . . Then thinking “it’d be nice to have a place to sit with this gelato” and soon after bumping into the free botanical garden. I spent far too much time in my life trying to wrangle control of everything - and this journey has been powerful for me for growth on surrendering control.
All obstacles I bump into feel infinitely more manageable and enjoyable if I stop, meditate or pray a bit, accept that it is what it is, stop ruminating or shame-spiraling (by addressing whatever emotions are cropping up around it), and just handling the situation (or leaving it) without overplaying it. Many of my most crystallized memories involve going through this process - and it’s also where I’m growing the most in the ways I hoped to.
The quality of any experience is highly dependent on sleep and weather. I try to get as much sleep as possible, always, and nap when necessary. It’s not worth forcing experiences if you’re not in the state to enjoy it. It’s also not worth forcing them if the weather won’t allow you to enjoy it. It’s better to move with your inner and outer states - and not try to conquer them.
People everywhere have far more in common than they have apart. I keep finding quiet moments where I just look at people engaging in a deeply human struggle, and recognizing that we’re all on a common journey.
Having a mindful walking practice is a real joy on the road. I usually just walk in silence and enjoy seeing the scenery.
Walking and sleeping in dorms can be tough on the body; I do some yoga daily whether or not I’m working out.
Rest and doing nothing is critical, even when constantly traveling and not working. I think after two major attractions, the return on the third drops dramatically, and it’s hard to savor anything meaningful for more than a few hours. I have no guilt when I just want to sit still or watch tv, and I don’t fret that I don’t hit all the major attractions and to-dos in a city.
Always try to carry as little weight as possible when walking around. Walking without anything heavy on your back is so nice.
Stay open and curious. Most of the coolest stuff isn’t planned.
I meditate most days in a pretty place when I feel like it; I’ve also radically increased my informal mindfulness practices and rarely do two things at once (so far less music, fewer audiobooks . . . )
I now try to workout 3 or 4 times a week - but I skip if I’m hiking that day - and I skip sometimes just because the travel routine makes it challenging or I got bad sleep. All my workouts are available here as workouts-to-go; they only require a kneepad, sliders, and resistance bands - all of which I brought with me.
Saying yes to a hike is almost always worth it; this trip has solidified my desire to hike the major US trails.
I book transit mostly through Omio and lodging through HostelWorld and AirBNB; I’ll likely add booking.com once I’m in cheaper parts of the world and can splurge on hotels from time to time. I do sometimes check the actual website of the bus, train, or hostel if the price seems to high - as the price is usually cheaper if I book directly. I enjoy the convenience of having most of my tickets and confirmations in one place, so usually I’m ok with paying the small inconvenience fee.
On the bus to my new city, I favorite the bus or train stop and my hostel in Google Maps. Then, I spend 20 minutes or so looking up common things to do in the city, and I star the ones I think would be nice to see. Then, I spend 10 minutes looking up vegan restaurants, and particularly bakeries, and flag them as vegan on Google Maps.
Most of the time, I don’t set out with a particular destination (unless it’s a bakery for breakfast), but just wander and occasionally check if one of the attractions is nearby.
I allowed myself some imperfection in my veganism in my first month, and ate a few vegetarian dishes. This was a choice of convenience as I adjusted to figuring out how to find and cook affordable vegan food on the road. I have mostly returned to 100% vegan at this point, and expect to be fully back soon.

MY BUDGET IS HOLDING UP

I wrote about my budget here and so far it’s holding up well. As of the month-end, I’ve spent $30 less than target. To be honest, I could’ve done better, but the first month was hard not to treat a bit like a vacation, and living much more frugally involved lots of adjustment. I’m booked for travel until August, and I’m confident the budget will hold for other cities (although it will definitely be harder and less forgiving in more expensive parts of Europe). I know at parts I’m going to go above budget (in particular my next two weeks) and that I’ll have to balance it back out after.

My day-to-day budget in Europe is $65, approximately $15 for transit, $25 for a hostel, and $25 for everything else. In most cities, I’ve been able to make the $40 a day combination for transit to the city and lodging there work (with some exceptions like Milan and in Switzerland); when that budget gets tight, an overnight bus greatly relieves it by combining the two. I’m fortunate to be spending 9 nights with friends in the next couple of months - so that will help a lot. I’ve also found that the more people you meet on the road, the more invites you get to couch surf as you go. If I do this again, I’ll probably stay more often with people I’ve met.

The $25 discretionary spend budget requires some really tough prioritization - but it gets much easier every day. You can’t see every site / attraction on that budget - so I mostly now pay to enter places I think will be memorable at the end of the year. I almost never buy coffee, drink at a bar, or eat at a sit down restaurant. If I want to drink, I may buy a bottle of wine and watch a sunset. If I want to eat out, it’s usually at a bakery or getting a sandwich - and eating at a park. I’m getting better at cooking in hostels - which is a particularly strange adjustment - and I now pay attention to how much a meal costs to cook.

I also have another $10 a day budgeted toward fixed costs - like big flights, SIM cards, insurance, and other supplies. I haven’t been here enough days yet for my flight to Lisbon to get within that cost-per-day, but it should by the end of the third month. Right now, my fixed costs per day are closer to $25 (largely my $600 flight only spread across 30 days so far).

I find living to my budget to be one of the best exercises I’ve ever done in what truly matters to me. Left, right, center, everywhere - I can see how freely I spent money back home in ways that added minimal joy to my life. While sometimes I do feel restricted, more often than not, I feel really aligned to what actually matters to me, and I have more gratitude for what I’m choosing to spend money on.

MY PACKING LIST IS ALSO HOLDING UP . . . ISH

At the beginning of this trip, I published my packing list and wrote about why I included everything. So full honesty, I 100% packed too much. I suspect at some point I will mail some of my stuff back home. I feel like I’m constantly packing too much and lugging around too much. This will be helped some as my exhausting resources dwindle . . . But not enough to really make up for how much shit I have with me.

I track what I use every day so I know what has been used most and what hasn’t been used at all. I think it’s too early to deem if anything was a true mistake to bring because I haven’t been to enough parts of the world or enough climates yet to let some things get use. I probably will do my big mail back around month 9. Here’re my thoughts so far.

There are a few items I think I should have packed.

Waiter’s Corkscrew. I bought one early on so I could always open wine or beer anywhere. This has also been a handy social tool because sometimes strangers need one.
Reusable grocery bag. I bought one to be able to carry produce and groceries someplace other than my backpack.
More Tupperware. I brought one bento, and I largely now use it to keep my bag of peanuts so they don’t spill everywhere in my bag. I bought a new set of plastic stacking Tupperware to store leftovers as I cook.
Thin Material Blanket. I haven’t bought this yet because I have to decide what to get rid of to make space. I often wish I had something to lie on in parks or on the beach, so I would like to carry one of these with me as I go. It would also make a convenient curtain for my dorm beds when they don’t have one built in.
Extra Chargers + USB Chargers. Early on, I had a panic because I lost my European power adapter. Luckily, for some reason, my power adapter pack had two for Europe. I learned my lesson though - next time I’m packing two sets of power adapters because they’re so critical that I want backups - and they don’t actually take much space. The same goes for my phone charging cable. The other issue I’m having is that I only brought the newer chargers (the one with the USB-C plug) and I often need an older USB plug because I’ve encountered several places that only have USB outlets. I wish I had brought classic USB chargers. I’ve been slowly improving my charger game as I see them for sale at reasonable prices.

There are also a few surprise winners that I was really unsure of and am really thankful I brought.

Manual Laundry Machine. I suspected I’d never be willing to use it. I actually use it every other day and it enables smaller, more nimbler packing.
Kneepad. I really went back and forth on this because it takes so much space, but I’m really glad I can comfortably do yoga whenever I want.
Towel. Most hostels haven’t provided a free towel, so I’ve used this a lot.
Sleeping Pills. Especially in buses and with shitty roommates, the sleeping pills have been a godsend.
Thick Circular Resistance Band. My trainer in Philly gave me a thick circular resistance band before I left. Last minute, I packed this because my resistance bands are the kind to imitate weights (so they have handles) - and this would allow a different set of exercises. Where this has come in handy, though, is securely tethering my backpack to my suitcase when I’m moving cities. It allows me to walk with all of my things without carrying anything on my back.

And as for the things I’m evaluating as potential mistakes to mail back:

Shirts, Socks, Underwear Beyond 4. Because I usually wear everything twice and wash clothes every other day, I have never used my fifth pair of underwear or socks, or gotten to my fifth t-shirt. I have 7 pairs of underwear, so 3 are unused, 6 pairs of socks, so 2 unused, and 2 extra Airism t-shirts that I haven’t used. To be fair, these don’t take much space in my bag, so these weren’t make or break mistakes.
Switch. I haven’t yet played my Switch. To be fair though, I didn’t expect to for the first several months, and thought it might come in handy later in the year as I get more used to life on the road. In particular, I expect to travel slower outside of Europe (because the Visa situation allows for slower traveling), and once that’s the case I might play more.
2 Pants. I have almost never worn pants - but it’s also been very hot so this isn’t a fair evaluation at this point. But the pants take a lot of space in my suitcase, so I’m thinking I probably should’ve only brought the pair of Lululemon pants (which are more multifunctional) and not also my jeans.
Short Sleeve Button Up. I thought I’d be looking “cute” more than I really am - and I haven’t worn my short-sleeve button up. This may change as I hit spaces I spend time with people I know. But I think my statement jacket and flannel have largely proven adequate when I want personality in my attire as I can layer them over a t-shirt - and they have the added benefit of being adaptive to cooler weather.
Long Sleeve Shirt. I still haven’t worn my long-sleeve shirt - though to be fair it’s been hot to date. But I also have just layered a flannel or jacket over a t-shirt when I’ve been chilly, so I’m not sure if this was a good pack.
Boots. Again, I thought I’d be wanting to look “cute” more than I really am. I’ve only worn these a couple of times when I’ve gone out with people I knew - which admittedly will increase more as time goes on. I also don’t like wearing these with shorts, and I’ve not worn my pants much yet, so I haven’t been able to fully evaluate these.
Necklaces. I’ve only worn necklaces a couple of times - but they also take almost no room in my suitcases, so I’m not really worried if these are mistake.
Contacts. Contacts are definitely a mistake and I’ll be mailing these home. I have no desire to deal with contacts on the roads, and at this point have no intention of not just wearing glasses. I overestimated my desire on the road to play with my appearance on this front.
Bamboo Utensils. I do use these from time to time, but my issue is with the set I brought. It’s just too bulky, and I could’ve brought an easier to carry set. I likely will replace them with a thin set of silverware wrapped in a napkin.
Washcloth: I do use my washcloth, but my issue is with the one I packed. I just packed my regular washcloth, which isn’t quickdry, so I’ve been having issues of showering the morning I leave and having to carry it around all day so it can dry. I will probably replace it with something quick dry.
Sink Stopper. I brought this to hand-wash individual items in the sink, but I always use my manual washing machine, so this was unnecessary. To be fair, as I start cutting my hair, I may change my mind on this if I use it to stop my hair from falling down the drain.
Clothing Line. To date, I’ve always been able to find space in my room to hang my clothes, so the clothing line seems like it was unnecessary.
Sleep Liner. To date, I’ve always had clean linens included in hostels. I’m beginning to doubt this is going to become necessary, and that I’ll be able to ditch this.

To be fair, this is mostly refining my list on the margins, and the bulk of my packing list is holding up well. In addition, I’m so far happy with my choice to bring a suitcase and not a true backpack - though I am going to keep re-evaluating this decision, especially in parts of the world where sidewalks diminish. At the end of the year, I’ll publish a final packing list - one that I’ll use whenever I do something like this in the future.

KNOW ANYONE ELSE WHO WOULD LIKE THIS?

Devin ScottJune 4, 2022Summaries