7 Years of Travelling Without a Home – and Then a Pandemic.
I was trekking up the moonscapes of Qeshm Island in Iran at sunset, and it seems like it was yesterday. or disappearing while riding a motorcycle in Myanmar’s isolated indigenous Chin state. Or experiencing awe-inspiring “ghetto sessions” in Khayelitsha, one of the biggest slums in South Africa.
One thing comes to me when I reflect on my long-term travel experiences. Everything seems unreal.
In a completely separate vein, I’ve been feeling that way during this epidemic as well!
Many of you have contacted me since the start of this peculiar chapter in our life, wanting to know what it’s been like to hang up my travel boots forever. What would it be like to be confined to one location for the foreseeable future after almost seven years of extended travel and living out of two bags?
I attempt to be completely honest in this essay as I consider this period of shock, struggle, acceptance, disappointment, rage, thankfulness, and optimism.
With a home nowhere, I suddenly had nowhere to go!
I sold the most of my possessions and gave up my rental flat back in 2013. Since then, I’ve felt at home in a lot of different places, but I haven’t established any roots.
It was liberated on many respects to be without belongings and to not be tied to one location—until I ended myself in lockdown!
Fortunately, I had to cancel a multi-day trip from tribal Chhattisgarh to Madhya Pradesh due to an unforeseen circumstance. In order to conceal my growing concerns about the coronavirus, I ultimately flew to Dehradun to spend a few days with my parents and find out where I might go slowly next.
Three months passed during that brief visit. And looking back, I’m really happy I was able to spend that time with my parents, something I haven’t done since I was seventeen and went away for college! Unfortunately, during the lockdown, my companion was trapped in a different area of the planet. It hurt a lot, maybe because this time the geographical separation wasn’t forced.
We had to go through a lot of passes, documentation, Covid testing, and institutional quarantine when domestic mobility slowly resumed. and made the bold decision to relocate for the foreseeable future to a tiny Goan village.
To be honest, I have occasionally pondered what it might be like to remain in one location once more. to possess more than two bags and to have a tiny backyard where I can produce my own vegetables. Try out vegan meals and always have access to a kitchen. Create a reliable supply network for seasonal, organic, waste-free vegetables. and avoid having to choose where to go next every few months.
I came to the realization that I had no option but to experience “the other side” of life after the initial shock of the lockdown.
So I threw myself right into it. Started growing my own herbs and microgreens. Experimented with vegan baking. Got connected with a group of local organic farmers. Tried to throw myself into writing, books and music. Binge-watched movies and shows.
At first, it felt nice to have a schedule and all this time on my hand. But the days quickly started merging into one another. They felt familiar, comfortable and predictable.
Daily awakenings to the same horizon get boring after a while. I started to miss the thrill of lengthy land trips, the enchantment of brief roadside interactions, and the anonymity of being a new “me” in a new location.
As it happens, I was never genuinely searching for a place “perfect” enough to establish roots, which is why I never did.
The border questioning in Nicaragua, the mugging in Costa Rica, the stalking in Ethiopia, and the breaking of my phone on the first day of my solo travels in Ecuador all seem to have unanticipatedly equipped me to adjust to anything life throws at me.
The pandemic is undoubtedly one of these unexpected events.
I was first foolish enough to believe that it would soon be over. It may be months or perhaps a year until a vaccine is developed, but at this point, I don’t see myself traveling very far.
Even though I’m young, healthy, and not in the age range that is at risk, research has shown that those who have the virus may have long-term health effects. I also feel a strong duty to India’s rural inhabitants, who have little access to medical treatment, and I can’t stomach the idea of spreading the infection to them.
Both psychologically and professionally, the first few months were difficult. My costs were partially covered by a few overdue payments that started to trickle in. The future was unclear, though, as all trip assignments were halted.
But surprisingly, I transitioned into acceptance quite fast after going through stages of denial, shock, rage, and disappointment.
As an introvert, minimalist and someone who’s been working from home for over a decade, the obvious problems of lockdown living were simple for me.
However, I’ve been trying to make this life of lockdown more bearable. Learning to cook, cycling, kayaking, taking pictures of birds, learning more about the difficulties facing wildlife protection, and getting closer to nature!