Why I'm Moving to Sweden, Trust, and Practicing What I Preach

Posted: 02/21/2012 | February 21st, 2012

I poke. I push. I prod. I try to get people out of their cubicles and traveling the world. That’s what I do. That’s my thing. I show others that traveling doesn’t have to be expensive, that anyone can do it, and that your fears are unfounded. I try to be a living example of that. Judging by the emails I get from people, I think I’m successful at getting people onto airplanes and into the world.

But last month, I faced a fork in the road about what to do when my trip ends: do I move to New York City right away or do I move to Sweden for six months? Once you go down a path, there’s no turning back, and I was very torn on what to choose.

But I decided to choose Sweden.

The guiding principle in my life is no regrets. I don’t want to be on my deathbed saying, “I wish I did…” and I think that if I didn’t move to Sweden, I’d always regret it. I’d always wonder what might have been. What would life have been like if just for a moment I finally got to live in Europe? What possibilities and opportunities did I pass up?

So in July, I’ll be getting on a plane to Stockholm, where I’ll stay until January >when my book is released. I’d leave sooner, but I have some conferences and plans in the United States that I need to attend in the meantime.

As I lay awake one night, I realized that if I didn’t move to Sweden, not only would I regret it, but I’d also be a hypocrite. After all, instead of facing my fears and reservations, I’d be taking the easy road. New York is easy. I know it, I’ve lived there, I have friends there. I don’t need to worry about visas, languages, or anything else. New York would be the easy, comfortable choice.

Instead of breaking out of my comfort zone, I’d be staying firmly in it. And if I did that, how could I ever again tell people to break out of their own comfort zones?

All you have to judge me by are the blogs I write and the information I share. Based on what I present, you decide if I’m trustworthy enough to listen to. I trust Trey Radcliff when it comes to photography because of his amazing photos, the fact that he only promotes the products he would actually use, and the people and news sources that vouch for him. I trust he knows what he is talking about.

And trust is the currency of the Internet.

I can’t tell people to conquer their fears, live their dreams, and travel the world if I won’t even do that for myself. With so many sketchy websites these days, trust is in short supply. All you have online is your credibility.

So late at night, I thought about all the emails I get from the people who have told me I’ve inspired them to take a trip. I thought about all the messages from the people whose fears I’ve helped vanquish. I thought of all the people who told me a blog post was exactly what they needed.

And then I thought about how deep down I knew I wanted to move to Sweden. There was nothing I wanted more. I want to learn the language, eat the food, meet the people, and explore the countryside. New York can wait six months. I’ll miss it, but it will always be there. Yet if there was no doubt in my mind, how come there was doubt in my mind?

Because I was too scared to make the leap and commit. It was easier to stay in my comfort zone. It always is. But I realized that I’ve helped so many people take a deep breath, close their eyes, and just go for it that not doing it when it came for my own turn would make me a hypocrite.

And that realization removed my doubt and made me commit.

And so in July, I’ll move to Sweden. It may be great. It may be awful. I may come home early or I may stay forever. But at the very least I’ll have practiced what I preached. I can wake up every day knowing that I did what I tell others to do: I seized the day, conquered my fears, and leaped into the unknown.

Because if I didn’t do that, I’d be a hypocrite.

And I’d never be able to look at myself the same way again.

How I'm Dealing With My Anxiety By Not Planning While in South America

I had a plan. Well, a vague idea. I came back from exploring Southeast Asia after only two months for two reasons: to speak at a NYC travel show in January and to give a keynote speech in Orlando in February about connecting with consumers on social media.

It didn’t make sense to fly home, back to Asia, and then back again, so what to do with the time in between talks?

“South America,” I thought. It’s a place I haven’t visited much, so what better way to spend my time than seeing the continent?

(Well, at least part of it.)

With the seven weeks I had, I planned to explore Argentina and Chile. Then, upon realizing that Uruguay was a ferry ride from Buenos Aires, I thought, “Let’s go there too.” So my seven-week trip was going to look like this:

Buenos Aires (Argentina) –> Colonia (Uruguay) –> Montevideo (Uruguay) –> Rosario (Argentina) –> Córdoba (Argentina) –> Mendoza (Argentina) –> Santiago (Chile) –> Torres del Paine (Chile) –> Bariloche (Argentina) –> Santiago (Chile)

A little fast-paced but still not too fast.

I picked this route because it made the most logistical sense. Whereas my itinerary in Southeast Asia revolved around a purpose (to see Isaan), this itinerary came about because I drew straight lines and these places fell on the lines!

But, after two days in Buenos Aires, I changed my plans.

This time it had nothing to do with being pulled in another direction or meeting people and deciding to travel with them.

It had to do with the fact that I was metaphorically drowning.

See, I’ve always been a high-strung person. I work too much, I don’t balance work and play, and I make myself vague promises that tomorrow I’ll do things differently — but I never do. I have that New England work ethic (which I have no regrets about), but since December, it’s caused me anxiety. The kind that makes your eye twitch.

My assistant Erica describes my work ethic as “super full-time,” which normally isn’t a problem, but lately it’s developed into one. I’m juggling too many projects. While I’ve always done that, after talking to a really close friend, I realized that the difference between now and the past was that I did all my previous juggling while in one place. I could create a schedule. Now, I’m trying to do eight things (literally) while traveling, and it’s been hard to maintain.

Moreover, there’s been some really big personal and family issues going on that have just added to this “weight.”

Something had to give and, unfortunately, it was my sanity.

In an effort to reclaim my sanity and health and recommit to creating the balance in my life I promised myself months ago after my friend’s passing, I decided to make a change. Mind you, I’m not unhappy (my life is pretty awesome) or feeling ungrateful, and I know I brought this upon myself, but I can’t go on like this.

So what does that mean? Besides dropping projects left and right, my itinerary now looks like this:

 

 

 

Can’t see anything? Where’s that map? Nope, your browser is not broken. That’s no mistake. There’s no itinerary anymore. I now have no timetable for this trip. I’ve spent the last week in Mendoza, Argentina, drinking wine and finishing a couple of projects I needed/wanted done, but with those complete, all that is left is whatever blog posts I choose to write. I don’t plan on really seeing much other than Netflix (please, no Making a Murderer spoilers!), the end of many good books, and the great outdoors as I hike the shit out of Patagonia.

As I thought about the causes of my anxiety and feelings of panic, I kept coming back to the word have. I have to do this, I have to attend this event, I have to go to this meeting, or I have to say yes to this. My friend James Altucher wrote a book called The Power of No, and I’ve thought a lot lately about that liberating word — no. I feel in our modern life we fall into “the busy trap” where we say yes to everything. Suddenly, we get caught up in a cycle and we’re going nonstop. We’re overcommitted, burnt out, and drinking energy drinks or coffee to stay awake for it all.

But beyond a few basic needs (eating, drinking water, taking care of family, and working), we don’t have to do anything. We don’t need to say yes to everything or everyone. We can say no. We are the masters of our ship, and if we don’t want to do something, we don’t have to! It’s our lives. Who cares what people think? I always knew this on an intellectual level, but it wasn’t until my eye started twitching and I felt like I couldn’t handle it all that I finally realized it on an emotional level.

I got caught up in the cycle and didn’t realize until I was drowning. I let it get out of control.

So I am saying: no more.

I turned down that keynote. I don’t plan on running tours this year. I said no to all upcoming podcasts and interviews. I cleared the calendar, nuked the inbox, put up an out of office, and let go of some people in my life that shouldn’t have been there.

Now, I am off to Chile, where I’ll take an Intrepid tour of Patagonia. After that, I’ll stay in Patagonia and very slowly make my way back north to Santiago.

A few weeks ago, I watched the movie The Way. There is a great line in it: “You don’t choose a life. You live it.” But I only partially agree with that. I think you do make a choice.

Each day is a chance to get one step closer to your ideal, because if you don’t try to make tomorrow better than today, what’s the point?

As I make my choice to get closer to my ideal, I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I’m on the right path and that brings me a lot of comfort.

A Lifetime of Hope and Regret

It’s easy to get lost. To look around and suddenly find yourself wondering how you got here — and why it seems so far from where you thought you’d be. What wrong turn did you take? Is there still time to go back and start again? To be the person you wanted to be? To do the things you want to do?

One day becomes a year, which quickly turns into a decade. Before you know it, you’re miles from the life you imagined.

“Tomorrow,” you say to yourself. “Tomorrow, I’ll fix things.”

But tomorrow comes and goes and you continue down the same path, caught up in the surging river that is life.

Reading entries for my round-the-world trip contest brought regret to the forefront of my mind. I saw so much of it from the strangers who entered; strangers who poured their heart out to me about loss, pain, suffering, snuffed-out dreams, and second chances.

Yet beneath all the worry, regret, and sadness, there was hope.

The desire for a new beginning. A chance to be the person they wanted to be; to find purpose in their life; to escape a future they didn’t want — but one that felt so inevitable.

As writer and blogger Cory Doctorow said, “You live your own blooper reel and experience everyone else’s highlight reel.”

When you ask people why they want to travel the world, and 2,000 people come back with stories that all end with a version of “to start fresh,” it brings this obvious but forgotten realization back into your mind.

My own life is a minefield of regret — both big and small: Regret at not traveling sooner, partying too much, never becoming fluent in a foreign language, never studying abroad, letting a certain relationship slip away, not staying in touch with friends, not saving more, not moving slower, and not following my gut. Then there are the day-to-day regrets — things like not closing my computer 30 minutes earlier or reading more or laying off those french fries more. There are countless regrets.

In thinking about our own issues, we often forget that everyone around us is fighting their own inner battles. That the grass is never truly greener. That when someone is snappy at you in the grocery store, short with you at the office, or sends you a nasty, trolling email, they, like you, are dealing with their own inner demons.

They, like you, think of second chances, missed opportunity, and unfulfilled dreams.

We’re taught by society to avoid “a lifetime of regret.” “Have no regrets!” is our mantra. But I think regret is a powerful motivator. It is a teacher, a manual to a better life.

Regret teaches us where we went wrong and what mistakes to avoid again.

Reading these entries initially weighed me down. I couldn’t help but think, “There’s a lot of unhappy people out there.”

But the more I thought about it the more I realized they weren’t unhappy. Yes, there was regret, pain, and sadness in those contest entries — but there was also a lot of hope, determination, and energy. These entrants were not going to wallow in regret. They were looking for a way to move forward. They felt inspired, motivated. Many promised that no matter the outcome of their entry, they were determined to make a change.

Reading these entries taught me that regret, it turns out, is life’s best motivator. Two thousand people said, “Not again — I won’t do this twice!”

Maybe having a “lifetime of regret” means you actually have lived.

Regret, it turns out, isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Ten Years Ago, I said Yes to Travel

Ten years ago, I embarked on the trip that would change my life. It was 2004, and I was trying to convince a friend to visit the Galápagos Islands the following January. He wasn’t sold on the idea and suggested Thailand instead. Since I didn’t care where we went so long as we went somewhere, I agreed. I just wanted to escape the winter.

So in January 2005, we set off on our two-week trip.

If you had told before me that trip that I was going to come home, quit my job, and travel the world, I would have thought you were crazy. I was finishing an MBA and looking for a job in renewable energy. Travel was awesome, but me? A world traveler? Never.

Yet here I am 10 years later as exactly that.

Anniversaries have a strange way of making you nostalgic and reflective, and, as this one approached, I couldn’t help but reflect on that trip.

There is a lot I remember from it: getting scammed by a tuk tuk driver, trying street food for the first time, and staying in my first cheap guesthouse. I can recall in vivid detail how Bangkok’s Khao San Road was lined with missing person posters and donation jars related to the Boxing Day tsunami (it had happened two weeks prior to our arrival). The sense of pain in the air was so palpable.

And I remember the conversation with five backpackers in Chiang Mai that led to me turning to my friend a few days later and saying “I’m going to quit my job to travel the world.” I remember walking into Ko Samui’s English-language bookstore to buy Lonely Planet’s Southeast Asia on a Shoestring right after, pouring over it and taking notes even before I knew what I was doing.

But the one thing I can’t remember: the why.

Time has caused the reason I decided to quit my job to fade from memory. If you ask me now, I’ll say it had to do with being jealous of those backpackers, a sense of restlessness, and an overwhelming desire to travel. But, truthfully, I don’t know exactly. Most of the decisions I make in my life — good or bad — are done on impulse and without thinking.

All I remember was the feeling that I had to do it. Something just snapped.

And I just did.

But, 10 years later, the why is no longer important to me.

When I quit my job, I thought it was going to be temporary, but what I didn’t know then — and what I learned later — was that the travel bug only gets worse, and the more traveling I did, the less likely it was I’d go back to my former life.

It’s not easy to take the leap, quit your job, and travel the world — even for just a few months. There’s a lot of unknowns about a trip and no matter how much of a desire we have, it’s often hard to get past that fear. I had no idea how I was going to afford my trip, if I’d be able to do it, or what to expect.

But I refused to turn back.

I’ve never met someone who regretted their decision to travel. Everyone is appreciative of what travel has taught them, even those who came home early after realizing what they learned was that they didn’t like travel.

While I may never remember my train of thought on that day, I never second-guess my choice. If there’s any lesson I draw from that day 10 years ago, it’s that you never regret doing what makes you happy. Sometimes our gut instinct is right.

There have been mistakes along the way. There always will be. Nothing works out perfectly. But regret nothing.

Whenever I think “Should I do this?” I remember my decision to travel and realize nothing is ever lost by trying. If you fail, you not only end up back where you started — but with the knowledge you tried.

In 2015, don’t worry what others say. Travel more. Start a garden. Quit your job to become an actor. Finally take those Spanish lessons you’ve wanted.

Or don’t.

Go with your gut. Take a leap and do what makes you happy.

We each have a finite time on Earth. There’s no sense in wasting it.

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On Tuesday, I released the new edition of my book How to Travel the World on $50 a Day, with over 100 new pages of content featuring tips and advice I’ve never discussed anywhere on this blog. As a special accompaniment to the release, I’m giving away up to $1,800 in free travel books, flights, accommodation, language courses, guides, shirts, and more!!! I’m super pumped about this book’s release and excited to be able to give away so many cool products with it. You can click here to find out more about the book and get your free extras!

Firefighter Shares Princess Diana's Last Words As He Tried to Save Her

Tim Graham/Getty Images

It’s been 20 years since Princess Diana tragically died in a car accident in Paris. Over the last few months, family and friends have come out in droves to share their memories of the beloved royal, including her personal chef, who shared her favorite foods, her youngest son, Prince Harry, laughing over her “wicked” sense of humor and her eldest child, Prince William, sharing just what type of grandmother he believes Diana would have been.

And now, French firefighter Xavier Gourmelon, the man who was on the scene of the crash, is sharing with the world exactly what her last moments on Earth were like.

"Nobody knew it was her, nobody had recognized her," Gourmelon told ITV. "As I approached, there was a blonde person who was sitting on the floor. She regained consciousness she looked at me and said, 'Oh my God, what's happened?' A bit agitated. I tried to calm her down and tell her we would look after her, but she fell into a coma again."

The princess died shortly after, at 4 a.m. on Sunday, August 31, 1997. Gourmelon told ITV that he was “shocked” to hear of her passing as he thought she would survive.

“To be honest, I thought she would live. As far as I knew when she was in the ambulance she was alive and I expected her to live,” he told The Sun. “But I found out later she had died in hospital.”

Over the last few days, the Independent reported, Kensington Palace has been inundated with mourners and royal well-wishers dropping off flowers and cards outside the gates.

The Duke and Prince Harry are grateful for the many flowers, letters and messages they have received about their Mother. pic.twitter.com/pOAtvsOE4q

— Kensington Palace (@KensingtonRoyal) August 30, 2017

On Twitter, the palace wrote, “The Duke and Prince Harry are grateful for the many flowers, letters and messages they have received about their mother. They wanted to say thank you to those who had made the journey to Kensington Palace.”

They wanted to say thank you to those who made the journey to Kensington Palace.
📷PA. pic.twitter.com/gj9R7pWQbz

— Kensington Palace (@KensingtonRoyal) August 30, 2017

New York City Finally Opens the Second Avenue Subway

After a 96-year wait, the Second Avenue Subway in New York City has finally made its debut.

When it comes to the Second Avenue line, New York took the phrase “better late than never” a little too literally. In the century it took to open the line, more than a few of those that helped make it happen thought they would never see the day.

“We were young,” 93-year-old Felice Shea, who worked with her local community board to plan for the line in the '60s, told The New York Times. “We thought it was going to happen. It took a little longer than we thought.”

Amid intense (negative) speculation, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo had in December promised the Second Avenue Subway would indeed open on New Year's Day. Lo and behold, Cuomo celebrated the opening on New Year's Eve with an underground soiree, and Upper East Siders on Sunday were able to enjoy a very unusual sight: A brand new subway line.

The Q line, which previously ran to Queens from midtown, now goes up the island of Manhattan along Second Avenue up to 96th Street.

Here, photos of some of the effort that went into building the new subway line.