It was bound to happen. The day I didn’t want to travel any more. Not for ever, just that day. I was in Granada, Nicaragua. It was one of my favourite places I had visited and I really loved it. I had been there for two weeks, unpacked all my things. I had my favourite cafe. I had my favourite massage lady. I felt like I had a little bit of a community, a bit of a routine and… I liked it.
I had planned to go to San Juan Del Sur for weeks and while a part of me was excited to be back at the beach and to be getting some sunshine, a bigger part of me didn’t want to pack my bag. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to see another new place and I didn’t want to meet new people I’d have to say goodbye to in a few days.
I started thinking about traveling from Nicaragua to Guatemala by land and felt anxious. I just didn’t want to do any of it. I felt a little guilty as flights from Nica to Guatemala were close to $500 and it would have been around 1/10th of the price to make the journey by land, but also two days. In the end I decided my happiness was worth a little more than some money, so I booked some flights to Guatemala for as soon as possible and made a resolution to make the most of San Juan.
And I did. I loved this little sleepy beach town, but after seven months of travel and constant change I was so ready to be in Antigua.
Travel burn out turns even the most travel obsessed (like me) into tired, grumpy and unappreciative monsters. I know I’m insanely blessed to have the freedom to travel wherever I want to, but I also need a little yin to balance it out.
After a week in Antigua, Guatemala, I can say I’ve found “my place”. I almost cried the first day I arrived here. It was more beautiful than I could imagine and it fitted me and what I needed for this year perfectly. There’s the tax benefits, the language benefits, the fact that it’s safe, beautiful, warm, cheap, friendly… it’s comfortable without being too plain.
It’s my place.
And every day I walk around in awe of what’s around me.
On Thursday I’m viewing an apartment, I “invested” in a pillow in Guatemala City, I have a local number, I have a coworking space. I have some friends that I can see next week and the week after.
I feel like I’ve come home. Except it’s somewhere I’d never been before.
So, I’m burned out. I’m tired. I don’t care for another flight, train ride or bus ride for the next few months. I want to knuckle down and write about all the beautiful places I’ve visited in the past seven months and the wonderful things I’ve learned along the way.
Is this the end of travel? Nope. But this is the beginning of a home base, a place to sit down and reflect on the journeys that I take. It’s an opportunity to have a home base so I can travel lighter and smarter. It’s a way to save a lot of money on tax and it’s a chance for my to submerge myself in a new culture and a language.
It feels like exactly where I should be and exacetly what I should be doing right now.
And it feels good.
What’s the longest you can travel before you get burned out? Seems it’s seven months for me.
