A reader wrote a comment worth addressing.

They said:

“Sorry if this is rude but it seems to me you don’t like anywhere you ARE but dream of how it’s going to be great in the NEXT place. It’s even cringe inducing, to read your posts describing how the next place you’re going to will be wonderful — just knowing that the post you write when you actually get there is going to be such a let down for you. You romanticize about the future places you are going. And, next time I’ll do it differently!”

It was left on my The Two Bad Weeks in Mexico post. And, fair enough, what else are you to think when I’ve been in this country going on four months and haven’t had an amazing time?

So let’s talk about it. Do I hate everywhere?

No. Most places I’ve enjoyed. Given that I knew my blog would get a complete overhaul in the coming months, there’s a ton of stuff written offline sitting in wait for me to one day publish it. Wistful, buoyant pieces singing praises for moments in time before something came along and distracted me. Nomad life is filled with non-stop new places and experiences, and it’s so hard to convey all that in these little snapshots. I’d rather be balanced than doting in my praise.

Guanajuato was my favourite city in Mexico. It was more easy-going than any I’ve visited, and the alleyways and hills remind me of Europe. Nomad life means having to experience places before you can understand them.

Places I’ve Been

Locations I adore include Lisbon – I loved, loved, loved Lisbon – and the Azores, where I’d be happy to live for two months, at least. I spent only 7-8 days in each, and felt robbed as a result. There was Edinburgh, which broke my heart to leave. I always enjoy returning to London. Manchester was dreary and wet but still I had a good time.

Guanajuato had bad luck with lodgings, but I actually really like the city, and it’s my favourite Mexican city so far. I suspect had I reversed the order and done San Miguel then Guanajuato, that I’d like San Miguel more, but alas, it has a hard act to live up to compared to Guanajuato. It’s why people recommend that you see Madrid before Barcelona, because it’s tough to top the latter.

Speaking of – Madrid was terrific, despite my thinking it’d be a let-down. I enjoyed all of Croatia, even Zagreb, where I had bug problems, bed problems, and took off a couple days early.

And Then There’s Mexico

But as a whole, I’m not so keen on Mexico. Does that mean I’ve hated all my time here? Hell, no! I’ve had some really magical days. I’ve met neat people. I’ve seen weird cultural quirks that make me smile nearly daily. The people are often lovely.

But do I see myself coming back anytime soon? Nope. Not at all. I’ve overindulged, so to speak.

It’s worth noting that Mexico is also where I realized I was actually depressed. To realize one is depressed has a big requirement: Knowing you’d normally enjoy when and where you are, but instead find yourself deeply unhappy, without understanding why.

So maybe I’d enjoy Mexico more than this normally, but I still think I would feel I’d overstayed.

One of the nicest days of my life. I got on the bus in the wrong direction but got to talk to an elderly lady named Eleanor for 20 minutes who made me smile. I finally went the right way and this was what greeted me at an “unknown” location — an incredible rainbow, a break before a storm, and a lovely pub where I sat and wote for three hours. Then I walked 5.5 km back to Leith, outside Edinburgh, along the waterfront.

Europe and Me: Like a Glove

I absolutely loved being in Europe. Was it all awesome? No. I’ll talk about Porto in a minute. But mostly, I loved it. There’s a pace of European life that suits me. I fit into it very well. Was it home? No, but I felt like I fit and that’s almost better than feeling at home, I guess.

Porto was embroiled with challenges at the darkest time of the year with nearly non-stop rain for three weeks. My hosts and I didn’t get along. Odd. I have 13 rave reviews on my AirBNB profile and one lone grumpy review from them. Simultaneously, my currency took a nose-dive and my livelihood got precarious with lost work. Many things were outside my control. Life was an uncertain, scary place. Still, despite my unhappiness in Porto, I knew I’d love it in better weather and with more money, and a happier, more secure future before me.

So it comes back to that old adage – you can’t run from problems. You can be in the most amazing place in the world, but if you lose half your income while your currency devalues 20% in three weeks, with no safety nets, guess what? It affects how that place is enjoyed. Spending money is out, the next town is an unknown variable, and on it goes.

When I was in Madrid, my finances were still nerve-wracking. Same with the Azores, but you know what I had on my side? The weather. I could sit outdoors, enjoy plazas, sip a coffee, and still experience it.

That’s somewhat true of Mexico too. The budget suits my recent strife, thanks to sunshine and simpler lifestyles.

I couldn’t have known on day one that this rain would persist for nearly three weeks. In the end, the sun came out and I fell in love. I’ll be back to Zagreb too.

Regrets are Part of the Package

But I’ll tell you something – I never would’ve left Europe if my Canadian dollar had rebounded quickly. My original plan was to stay until June, but I reacted to adversity badly. Probably because I was already in my depression and that’s what depressed people do: They react badly, or illogically. I’d handle it completely differently now. Indeed.

Why? Because I loved Europe. I even loved Porto when weather was on my side. It’s a stunning, gorgeous city with a great food and wine scene, if you’ve the cash to explore it. And Europe as a whole, even when bad, is good. Kinda like chocolate.

Fact is, if I’ve romanticized Mexico at all, it’s because I had so many people tell me how amazing all these places would be. Oaxaca is the next “it” city! San Miguel is stunning! I bought what others were selling. Trouble is, they’re wrong. It’s amazing for them, it’s different for me. Welcome to the world of divergent tastes.

We forget how different we all are. I hear The Bee Gees, I want to change the song. Someone else hears The Bee Gees, they shriek, start dancing, and singing “Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive – ah, ah, ah…” and I roll my eyes.

I should probably find out if people are Bee Gees fans before I let them tell me where to travel, I guess.

If I’ve learned anything from all this, it’s two-fold: One, trust my gut. Two, everything changes. Stay long enough and it’s time to leave. Everything changes. Nomad life.

Expectations Versus Anticipation

The reason I “romanticize” Europe is because I’ve dreamt of exploring all of it since my childhood. Morocco and South Africa, too. They’ll come later. Despite not yet visiting anywhere on my life-long “must travel” list aside from Edinburgh, I’ve fallen hard for the few places I’ve seen in Europe.

If I could be so smitten with Zagreb, despite having bronchitis, so much rain, cockroaches, bad beds, and other struggles, I can’t wait to see what my take on the number-one city I have ALWAYS wanted to see, Prague, is. I expect it to be imperfect, but I will love photo-walking it, and that’s my favourite travel activity, by far.

Still, the problem with travel is, no matter how we try to keep expectations in check, we can’t. Between media depictions, friends weighing in, and everything else, it’s absolutely impossible to go to a new destination without having expectations about it. I try to let anticipation have its way with me because of excitement for who we are, where we’re going, what we might see there – that’s a beautiful thing. Excitement is a kind of innocence the world is short on. I hope I never lose my tendency to go, Ooh, one more sleep until I go to _____! even if it often may not live up to my hopes.

It’s all about hope. Will this next place be the place I didn’t know I was dreaming I’d find? How do I know until I get there? I still enjoy myself. If I don’t enjoy a city, I work more. It all balances.

Despite rain and dreary tims, I got more great photos in Porto than any other city. I really do think it’s stunning, but events conspired against me. I’ll return.

Like I Said, Everything Changes

Despite knowing I won’t return to Mexico any time soon, for instance, I promise this – I’ll be back one day. I’ll probably even return to this city too, despite my misgivings. I know I haven’t given it a fair chance, because I’ve been too hamstrung financially. A lack of money really impacts experience. Period. So, I threw myself into my work, which paid off, as I’ve nearly doubled my income for the foreseeable future. Yay, me! Here’s to sunnier days ahead.

But why would I come back to Mexico if I didn’t love it EVERY DAY? Because it’s an ancient culture filled with conundrums and contradictions, beauty and struggle. It’s hard not to admire these people who stand under so much oppression and corruption, yet never give up and always smile when greeted. How do you not love people like this and empathize with their difficulties? How do you experience an ancient culture refusing to give in to the Americana threatening to invade it and fail to respect it?

Will I ever stay here for 4-5 months in a row again? Likely not. A month? Sure. Maybe even two!

Outside Factors Often Dictate Choice

But who knows, maybe I’ll stay this long again next time I’m in Mexico. The cost of living is a huge bonus to Mexico. Huge.

As a nomad, we make choices all the time based on currencies, income, politics, and more. Once reason I chose Mexico is because they allow a 6-month visa and I knew that would work for my financial scenario. It’s one of the most generous visas in the world for Canadians, and that adds up to savings.

I can’t stay in cities like Prague long-term, due to visa limitations and potentially higher cost of living. Interrupt that with stays in places like Georgia or Sarajevo or Greece, and suddenly it all works out. In those lesser-visited Balkan regions, my budget goes further, especially if it’s off-season in Greece.

Still, I know I can take night trains from, say, Prague to Budapest for $50, when I can’t even travel in my home province for that much. That’s the beauty of Europe. So much in your grasp for so little – if you can handle the cost of living otherwise. So then it’s down to picking the right countries, and scoring the right lodgings.

One night I was surprised to find the rain had stopped after dinner and I could walk the 3km back to my lodgings. That was this night, my second last in town, and I enjoyed myself so much.

The Challenge of Internet Research

We nomads are at the mercy of the research we do on the web. There’s a fine line with that research too. We can suss out places, look up day-to-day costs, seek neat lodgings, and cross our fingers, and hope our sources are right. Then again, Porto can happen – where prices are higher than expected, the hosts turn out lousy, and currency plummets, all at once.

Another challenge is trusting the source. Travel bloggers are what English teachers would call “an unreliable narrator.” They have too much vested in the story for us to trust their account of it.

A majority of travel bloggers are trying to keep a sunny-side-up face on their travels so they can get a deal on the next tour, next hotel, next city. They’d rather leave the bad experiences off their site so it doesn’t compromise what they can be comped in the next town. Not all are like this, but many are. (The ones who share it all are great, though.)

So, we’re back to travel balance being contingent on research and information. How objective is the research, how pumped up is it? How recent, how accurate?

Novelty Wears Off, Even in the Best Places

Even when you love places, you can overstay, like me in Mexico. The dogs and firecrackers and loud-speakered street merchants amused me in the first month, but four months in, all I can dream of is staying in the quiet Canadian countryside to decompress.

Think of travelling like foods. Yes, pizza is wonderful, but if you have it every day for weeks, even months on end, will you love it still? Not me. And Mexico is my travel pizza.

That diversity of culture in Europe excites me. I can travel to three cities for the same price as one flight to a new city here in Mexico. The small towns are easy to find and easy to live in, whereas small-town Mexico comes with big compromises and uncertainty, depending on the region.

I know I’ve overstayed places before, but slow travel will continue being my style. It’s cheaper, sure, but it also helps me ditch hasty opinions. For example, Guanajuato improved greatly when I changed lodgings and switched neighbourhoods.

I was born and raised here. Vancouver is a stunning city, no one can argue that. Yeah, it’s a hard act to follow. So why do I travel? Because it’s there.

Travel as an Endurance Sport

What you won’t see me do this time is run home to Vancouver to regroup after five months. I’m sticking it out. It’s cheaper, easier, and more rewarding. You see, ultimately, I’m not a traveller or a travel blogger. I’m a writer with big dreams who’s trying to taste the world. Sometimes I’ll send that dish back to the kitchen. Other times I’ll walk right out. And there’ll be times when you gotta drag me out as I grab another dessert in passing.

Travel isn’t always enjoyable, it will never be perfect, and I don’t expect it to be. I’d hate to be happy with every place, to never be challenged. I didn’t sign up for that.

There isn’t a place I’ve been that has failed to teach me something about myself, the world, my naivety, my cynicism, or my future. I’ve learned so much this year and I can’t think of any other way I would have gained this much wisdom, resilience, or determination than through this kind of travel.

I don’t know what my ideal place will be. Maybe one day I’ll feel there’s no place other than my home roots that can give me the life I dream of. Maybe it’s some place some traveller on some train tells me about that I don’t even know exists yet. Who knows?

The Delight of Mystery

But that’s what I signed up for. The unknowing and the discovery. I didn’t ask for guarantees and sugar-coated dreams. I’ve had a sheltered life in a city that led the world in “quality of life” standards for the better part of the last couple decades. Guess what? That’s a hard act to follow.

Travelling, though, has led me to believe that “quality of life” is overrated in some ways. I could imagine being quite happy in a place like the Azores or Madrid, or Edinburgh with its shitty Scottish weather but glorious people, and even in Porto, at times. Do these rank on the “best” lists every year? No.

When I return to Europe, across every border will be new foods, new languages, new cultures, new architecture, new people. Mexico, in a way, is very similar to the rest of North America in that, once you’re in the country, things don’t change a lot region to region. Some, but not a lot.

I look forward to the return of frequent steep learning curves coupled with an easy-going lifestyle of slow walking and watching time pass by.

From a wonderful day spent exploring upper Guanajuato. For me, Guanajuato seemed like Mexico with a lighter heart. The people seemed happier, less troubled, more present. That made all the difference for me. Add the colourful homes, the playfulness, and it’s my favourite city I’ve seen in Mexico, by far.

For Now, More Mexico, but New-to-Me Mexico

For now, it’s another month in Mexico. I’m off to Merida in the Yucatan. I plan to eat street food a LOT there because it’ll be 35 degrees with 90% humidity every day and no one wants to be cooking in that sort of weather. Besides, my soon-to-be kitchen looks incredibly basic. I look forward to street tamales and hugos.

Sure, my expectations are low, since I’m ready to move on from Mexico, but I’m glad I’m getting one more “sauna” experience of living in blazing heat. Living in that kinda heat makes me relate to that line in the Gomez song that epitomizes the travel life for me, “The sweat comin’ from my pores takes me away, piece by piece.” (“Get Miles.” A moody, dark song that’s about both loving and loathing where one is. I’m often toeing both lines. My favourite travel writer is Paul Theroux and he was always guarded in his praise too. I learned well, I guess.)

Being brutalized by the Yucatan sun will make me feel I’m in heaven when I return to the cool, foggy wine country on Canada’s Vancouver Island. Contrasts, baby. It’s a beautiful thing.

For now, I’ll see one more city in one more part of this country. I’ll try another cuisine, endure the brutal heat, and I’ll fine out if it’s a place I love or one that doesn’t fit.

Because that’s travel. We explore and see what fits. Like love, most fail to work out long-term, but if you’re doing it right, at least you’ll have a memorable, short affair.

Love this Post? Pin it!