Why Choose a Vagabond Lifestyle?

I never set out to be a wanderer or nomad. It was accidental, yet serendipitous.

After savoring the sweet nectar of unstifled freedom, unencumbered, carefree days with no schedules or demands, and endless new adventures, I was hooked.

For the first few years after becoming infected by the wanderer bug, I popped back to my native country briefly between long-term trips.

Each stay, however, more strongly affirmed a profound longing to be on the move again. The decision was solidified during my final ten months in the now ISA (Insane Asylum of States) after years in India, Thailand, Bali, and Mexico, with stops in Nepal and Egypt tucked in.

My abdication this time would be permanent.

The vagabond lifestyle had permeated my soul.

It has now been more than a dozen years of answering either, “I’m homeless” or “Wherever I am today” to the inevitable question from residents around the world, “Where do you live?”

Who knew that after age 50, one’s world — of an American middle-class comfort zone — could drastically morph into transient unpredictability? Despite believing there are no accidents in life, how and where I find myself continues to mesmerize and enthrall me.

It’s a marvelous, otherwordly adventure. The best and unimaginable.

Everyone I know in my former home is either paying off a mortgage or pouring monies into paid-off abodes for landscapers, pool service, renovation, or maintenance.

I bear no similar commitments or duties. My landlord’s staff handles all those issues.

Friends may be excited about their latest four-wheeled purchase, likely another SUV or possibly an electric one. Never again shall I own an automobile.

I typically walk everywhere. Occasionally, I hop on my rented Scoopy motorbike. Or, if traveling a farther distance, a ride share it is. In some countries, I board a bus or train or grab a rickshaw or taxi.

When others obsess about aging, health challenges, or financial woes, my mind drifts to joyous reminders of this peaceful daily existence. I smile and feel contented.

Wandering the beach. Reveling in the meditation of crashing waves. Basking under the regenerative endless sun. Reading new books. Writing. Visualizing an upcoming spa treatment. Deciding what new eatery to patronize. Doing my yoga practice at a time convenient for me. Stopping at the local temple to offer a silent blessing.

One enormous advantage of a vagabond lifestyle is if one country no longer intrigues or satisfies, it is relatively easy to move on. No longer am I shackled by a house full of furniture, a collection of tchotchkes, and extraneous stuff.

That discontent occurred after spending two-and-a-half years in Mexico. When moving there, having not visited the city previously, my thoughts were two.

First, I expected to remain…to die there. Second, I would move elsewhere, though, if I became unhappy.

Upon concluding the country wasn’t my cup of chai, my excitement level ratcheted up. I started researching the next leg of this brief journey we call life. Juices were stirred as I explored myriad possible new “homes.”

A plethora of options existed.

Would I return to my beloved India, which invaded my soul more than a decade earlier, having lived there for nearly three years?

Should I head to Bali, Indonesia’s paradise, another mesmerizing place where I had spent two months?

Was it time to explore more of Central America? Panama, Costa Rica, Guatemala, and Belize might be enticing?

How about South America, a continent I’d yet to set foot on? Ecuador was high on the list.

Might I consider other Southeast Asian countries, such as Sri Lanka or Cambodia?

A decision was made.

Within a couple of months, I had reached a decision.

Covid-19 was still raging throughout the world, though. Hence, immediate travel options remained limited. Hence, my departure would be delayed a few months longer. But that wasn’t concerning.

We vagabonders care little about time. It allowed for the required downsizing of belongings, packing, and soaking up the Pacific Ocean.

Bali it would be.

The magical, breathtaking Island of the Gods soon became my new abode.

Why keep moving? Why not stay put?

There is no one-size-fits-all answer. The decision to forego a permanent home to follow my heart, soul, and inner voice has been exhilarating and liberating.

I highly recommend wandering for anyone feeling complacent, bored, or seeking adventure. If I have any regret, it’s only a wee one — of not taking the plunge earlier in life.

Thanks for reading. Victoria