Part 1| Escaping Bali: Paradise lost…

Travel. Just travel. For those with wanderlust, travel is an empowering lightning strike to the heart that should never be underestimated.

(This article is Part 1 in the 6 part Series “Around (half) the World in 180 Days: Insights and stories as a nomad post-pandemic”)

For those wanderlusters that already live a life of travel abroad, but have wandered into a figurative place of craving stability, community, and a sense of home while continuing life abroad with travels in between the periods of comfort…I feel you! There is no shame in shifting from backpacker, to slow traveler, to digital nomad, to (as I am now) a lifestyle expat.

Over the past 6 months, I explored what it means to travel and settle, while still “abroad,” as I wandered Asia, North America, and South America grappling with the idea of potentially no longer being a nomad, but instead being a part-time wanderer with homes around the globe. Along the way, I discovered a new approach to life abroad, and how much the world has changed in this post-panemic world

In this article series, I’ll bring you with me through Asia and the Americas over the past six months spent nomading post-pandemic and exploring the world for a new home. Along the way, I’ll share useful insights for nomads and aspiring “lifestyle expats” on Bali, Japan, the US, Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Thailand, and Malaysia as travel destinations, nomad spots, and options for places to live for “Lifestyle Expats”

More interestingly, I’ll share my thoughts and feelings on traveling, exploring, and being a global citizen in the new normal.

Even paradise can become a prison

In January of 2024, I was lucky enough to reach the end of a personal four-year long storm and finally settled into my newly built home in Bali** in the most dissatisfying way possible.

For over four years I was “trapped” in Bali, partly due to the pandemic, and partly due to projects I’d committed to on Bali that only allowed me to leave for a few weeks at a time. Those four years of stifled travel, being “trapped” on Bali during the pandemic, and two years of battling my way through the experience of designing and managing the construction of a villa in the very much still developing island of Bali** left me wanting nothing more than to pack a bag and runaway to a place of peace. Attempting to make Bali home amidst waves of foreigner hate, corruption, overtourism, and overdevelopment was already a heavy risk that was taking its toll on my sanity.

However, even more, I am a traveler, nomad, and explorer at my core. The happiest times of my life are spent wandering new locales, tasting new foods, climbing mountains, and wading into new adventures. Bali, as much of a paradise as it is viewed as, is not that (for me) anymore. Live on Bali long enough, and grow roots here. You will realize that its deceptive offering of stability comes with a price, consuming your time and energy wading through the inefficiency of daily life and, if you allow it, sucking you into the “Bali bubble” and occupying your time so fully that years pass without notice, without adventure, without growth, if you’re not careful. For me, that’s akin to the death of the soul. So, it was time to go. To travel.

I wanted to travel, though “run” might better describe the desire. I didn’t want adventure (yet). I just wanted to leave, and find peace.

So, I did.

But, let’s rewind time four years.

The flight home (to Argentina) in 2020 that I was never able to take

In February 2020, I had a flight booked with the intention of moving for a year to my favorite city in the world, Buenos Aires, to make Argentina my temporary new home, possibly permanently. However, with a looming pandemic due to COVID-19 spreading quickly through Asia and globally, an email from the US State Department hit my inbox warning of the last flights off Bali and the cancellation of all flights to South America. This bland email foreshadowing the coming of the unknown marked the start of global lockdowns and a chain of events that derailed my “final escape plan to Argentina” for four long, yet interesting, years

However, I’ve always had the idea that, in the spirit of resilience, when all your plans go to hell, simply go back to the start and try again.

So, I did.

This past January, with the Bali villa rented out but plenty of other things in Bali still in shambles, I packed a single bag, a passport, a stack of cash, and my tiny Russian (my girlfriend and partner), and we took that dream flight to Argentina that was canceled for me in February 2020. As I stepped on that flight out of Denpasar airport, I felt that the place I was leaving, Bali, would never be home again. In a way, I was right. Putting a halt to things in Bali and booking that flight was the best decision I could have possibly made at the time.

The feeling of leaving Bali after such a long period of attempting to make a home was very much akin to my initial escape in 2017, when after being laid off I booked the one-way flight from Dallas to Bangkok that flew me into the life I live now and wouldn’t trade for anything.

Interestingly, the travels to come would take me through my old home (Texas) my first true travel experience and 2^nd home in my heart (Argentina) and the place that recalibrated my expectations of what the world could be (Japan). In essence, a highlight tour of the destinations that shaped the nomad soul scribbling these thoughts now. However, I was visiting a decade after my first experiences in each, with a changed outlook on the world, matured desires in life, and a feeling of yearning for something I couldn’t define – as well as anxiety about whether these places I’d been keeping close to heart would still fit after years away.

“We will see,” was the only comforting thought I could muster. At least I was back on the path of adventure, searching for my new self in the new normal of this “new world.”

Over the following months, I was able to truly experience the world beyond Southeast Asia for the first time since the pandemic. From Japan to visiting the US for the first time in 5 years, to finally soaking up my dream home (Buenos Aires) in a way I’d craved for so long, to exploring the rest of South America in the wake of economic crises, political unrest, and misrepresentation in the news, I soaked in a whole new perspective on the world, travel, and living abroad.

Now, as I sit happily and contently back in my home in Bali, still looking forward to visiting my new home in Buenos Aires, this new perspective and the places I’ve enjoyed over the past six months has made me realize a few things in the post pandemic world…

Travel has changed drastically.

The destinations we love(d) as backpackers, wanderers, and nomads, have changed drastically.

We, as travelers and nomads have grown and changed in a way to suit the world, increased globalization, and the information age. At the same time, many nomads and “lifestyle expats” are aiming to build a healthier life grounded in the places we are accepted and love while still living out their traveler dreams.

Lastly, “lifestyle expats” are a growing group of people that you may be a welcomed member of.

The following article series will be a smattering of sharing stories, experiences, and insights from six months of wandering (and creating new homes) in the new normal. Along the way, I’ll share what these insights mean for you as a person who aspires to live abroad or live abroad better.

You are very likely one of the “new nomads”, an aspiring lifestyle expat like me. And the choice, once you realize being a lifestyle expat is what you desire, will make this increasingly crazy world we live in a much more satisfying place to wander and live.

Bali in January 2024: Paradise lost…to over publicity, over development, and overshooting the tropical dream

For some, Bali is understandably a paradise, filled with surfing, kitschy beach bars, all night parties, and exotically beautiful Balinese Hindu culture. When I first arrived to Bali in December 2018, I loved her for all of the same reasons, mixed with a subtle, understated class that is difficult to find on the island these days

However, in January 2024, Bali had gone from being my personal paradise to becoming a combination of purgatory and a neverending tunnel of issues with a tiny light at the end, but I wasn’t sure if that promising light was daylight or the shine of an oncoming bullet train. Personally, in Bali, in my attempt at building a “simple surf shack” I fell prey to a predatory contractor that decided not to build as requested and threatened to take me to court in Indonesia, followed by corruption, and more foreigner hate than I expected considering my intentions. The icing on the cake was a wave of overdevelopment taking over the beautiful rice fields and the island’s tiny streets, quickly turning the once tropical paradise into a poorly planned urban ghetto cashing in on the “quiet, beautiful nomad hub” reputation that had been overly shared on Instagram.

For me, the final four months in Bali culminated with $25,000 in fees more than expected paying people off, and finishing my home myself by working on plumbing, electrical, finish, and plenty of other unexpected problems, during a time when I expected to be sitting in my hammock sipping San Miguel Light, overlooking the rice fields that had since been destroyed for new villas. But, my house in Bali was done…even if it felt like an echo chamber of all things sour in Bali at the moment.

Beyond my little concrete castle, Bali was suffering from a range of issues preventing it from being a comfortable, welcoming home. A bubble of overdevelopment wherein the vast green rice fields that make Bali beautiful were being sold off to scummy, scammy developers to create low quality villas for 3x profit. The Indonesian government established an immigration task force to hunt down and deport “misbehaving foreigners,” (none of which were the scummy real estate developers). Lastly, an influx of hundreds of thousands of tourists overloaded the infrastructure of the once-small surf villages of Canggu and Uluwatu. A testament to paradise overrun, the fecal matter count in the water of my once favorite beach got so high I refuse to surf there anymore, due to the overloaded infrastructure problems.

Worst of all, my Balinese friends were increasingly being displaced by new bohemian cafes and “migrant workers” coming from different Indonesian islands. While some of the newcomers brought wonderful opportunities to experience Indonesian culture from outside of Bali, many of these “new locals” brought with them a very different vibe filled with passive aggression (towards Balinese, other Indonesians, and foreigners).

It felt like Bali was slowly selling off and displacing all that made Bali unique and beautiful.

I should have realized what was happening in November 2022 when the Indonesian government forbade Balinese Hindu ceremonies in the vicinity of the G20 summit. Not allowing the local people to practice their own culture for fear of inconveniencing economic power wielding world leaders can rarely be a good sign.

A combination of gentrification, overdevelopment, and watching Bali’s nature and culture being rinsed from the island by a river of cash, along with new firsthand insights into the Indonesian legal system was enough to make me decide to sell my new Bali home, and depart for places I trusted to maintain their soul.

However, I did not have enough time to sell my home before I needed to leave Bali, for the sake of my sanity. I would have to rent out my new home while we tested out the new South America and Argentina – with the new Argentine president Javier Milei and an ongoing financial crisis.

Insights for nomads:

• Before you decide to buy a home anywhere in the world, live there (in the exact neighborhood you are targeting) for one year, and deeply assess development patterns and social trends before committing
• Don’t be afraid to leave a place if it feels like its time. The “sunk cost theory”** extends beyond business.
• Every destination goes through “social seasons” and growth phases. Some destinations proceed more quickly through the seasons, while other destinations proceed more slowly. Understand that for your potential home before committing, understand what season you are moving into, and understand whether the next season suits the design you have for your life.

With bags packed, flights booked, home rented out, and initial itinerary decided, we hopped on a plane heading for Dallas, Texas to handle business for a week before our final destination of Buenos Aires, Argentina. But, not before a lucky layover in Tokyo, Japan.

One night in Japan: The spark that rekindled my traveler soul

Everyone should experience Japan at least once before they die.

Nowhere else on the planet feels as otherworldly and simultaneously perfect and perfectly imperfect as Japan. Experiencing The architecture, the tastes, the conveniences, the shrines, the streets, the manners, the smells, the combined expressiveness and reservedness, and the fact that all of this can exist so exquisitely in one place is like a mind-altering drug in real life. This wasn’t my first visit to Japan, but it was likely the most needed. After departing the traffic, smog, honking, and plastic-ridden streets of Bali, landing in Japan and walking to the bullet train felt like a combination of time traveling to the future and being in a pleasant sensory deprivation tank with perfect lighting, soft music, and a heavy hit of serotonin.

We had a (potentially) wonderful window of 14 hours in Japan, in which we flew into Haneda airport (in west Tokyo) and out of Narita airport (in east Tokyo), 1.5 hours away by train. It was a perfect opportunity.

That 14-hour layover window allowed us to book a cheap little Japanese style business hotel and enjoy the night on one side of Tokyo. The following day, we would travel across Tokyo using the amazingly easy public transport and grabbing epic quality sushi along the way. Finally, we could enjoy delicious Tonkotsu Ramen on the way to the airport before departing. A wonderful breath of fresh air and a mini vacation in the only big city in the world where a 1.5 hour commute is a pleasure.

Also, luckily for me, I have a good partner. Good enough that I didn’t have to plan any of this leg of our journey. To be honest, traveler Carlos was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. In my post-Bali state, I couldn’t think or fight my way out of a paper bag. Fortunately, the Tiny Russian realized that and sorted out our itinerary, where we’d sleep, conveniently located near “Izakaya” Japanese restaurants, and highlighting food spots on our micro adventure in Japan. To be honest though – at the time I was skeptical of moving at all and, would have preferred trusty 7-Eleven.

However, the little business hotel we were in was cozy and smaller than expected but had far more niceties than expected, with nighttime kimonos and little slippers.

One block away, the smell of teriyaki drenched skewers of chicken burning over coals filled the air and lured us into a pleasant little izakaya.

The fruity and floral sake sipped in a bar with nothing written in English and chefs yelling like culinary soldiers hit that soft spot in my traveler’s gut cultivated by Mr. Anthony Bourdain.

The train ride by sky rail across the city was filled with all of the sights of towering Tokyo architecture I remembered and loved, past Shibuya and Shinjuku.

And that bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen. Dear God that Ramen. It tasted like the experience of all of Japan in a single bowl.

Along the way during that little “comfy adventure” the courtesy, the care, the cleanliness, the respect, and the attention to the small details of beauty that (I think) are the foundation of Japan were vivid and enlivening.

After months, even years on Bali getting beat down and surrounded by what seemed like a string of bad luck and submersion in the worst possible outcome, to the point that it would make you never want to adventure again – 14 hours in Japan was like a defibrillator shocking my “traveler heart” back to life. And it did.

As we arrived at Narita airport, I guiltily grabbed one more of those amazing vanilla ice cream cones from the Narita airport 7 Eleven. As I nibbled with childish pleasure I realized three things:

1. I would absolutely need to come back to Japan and wander through the country during my next time in Asia

2. With what Bali had become and was becoming, relative to what I’d just experienced in the land of the rising sun, we left Bali at the right time, and there was no reason (for us) to stay.

3. I was looking forward to my new life in Argentina more than I ever had before.

However, I had to survive a week in the reality show gone amuck that is the United States before getting to my final goal of Buenos Aires.

Insights from 24 Hours in Tokyo:

• Take full advantage of layovers in Japan, Bangkok, New York, Rome, Kuala Lumpur, and Cairo**, making them overnight if possible, prioritizing food, wandering, and whatever quirky pleasures you prefer.
• Travel with your partner to see if they really are a good partner. A good partner will, help with travel plans, be empathetic to your needs, and add enjoyment to the journey, even in the midst of chaotic travel and the unknown, instead of adding weight, disruption, and cost.
• If you fly into big cities like Tokyo, Paris, Rome, or New York, take a very good look at the map and where the airports are before making plans, because the airport may not be as close to the city as you think. Planned well, this could make for an additional adventure. If planned poorly, it can lead to a hectic 24 hours. Also, if you connect between different airports in a single city, DEFINITELY look at the map before buying the ticket.
• Travel. Just travel. For those with wanderlust, travel is an empowering lightning strike to the heart that should never be underestimated.

Experiencing America after 5 years abroad: Expensive, tasteless (aside from BBQ), and a place where you’ll pay for any happiness you get

July 2019. That was the last time I had visited the United States of America.

Since then, I’d started an adventure to explore all of my Asia bucket list and simply never had a reason to go back. However, when I left the US in 2019, I still had fond memories of the US, specifically in the national parks, in my home of California, and in the outdoors in general. But, as we were landing at Dallas Fort Worth airport after 36 hours of transit and the flight attendant’s voice boomed over the intercom with a Texas twang I realized, those things were the only things I missed experiencing in America – and I would get none of those during this trip.

Fast forward to 2024 and, thanks to the news cycle and social media, my perception of the US is colored by a cost of living crisis, a homelessness crisis, a health epidemic, and a chaotic political landscape filled with division. Compared to what I’d been living with in Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia, it felt like I was walking into a Netflix apocalypse setup from a Black Mirror episode.

The one week I would spend in Dallas would be purely for handling business, setting up a new LLC, getting documents together for my Argentine residency, and assessing how the US had changed. In the back of my mind, I was also wondering if I could ever possibly move back. A close second was getting the Tiny Russian a taste of life in the US.

Over that week, the two most pleasant experiences were 1) reconnecting with my siblings who I love more than life itself and 2) eating Texas BBQ brisket. Honestly, those were the only pleasant experiences during the entire 10 day trip in the US.

I quickly realized that in contrast to the lives of most that live outside of the US, life in the US today revolves around the earning and spending of money, as well as car culture. However, staying healthy and finding positive mental stimulation takes massive amounts of unnatural intention and cost.

The glaring problems that it feels like Americans don’t see or care about – homelessness, obesity, and poor quality food – are rife. Ultimately in the US right now, you only get what you pay for. No more. Possibly less.

Wealth and money everywhere…but not necessarily for you.

Our stay in Dallas was in my old neighborhood, near the once hipster area of “Deep Ellum” and the AirBnB alone cost $3,000 per month. That is about 4x what I pay for comparable rentals anywhere in the world. For comparison, throughout Japan, my monthly accommodation cost ranged from $750 to $1500 per month, with $1500 only being in Tokyo and the expensive part of Kyoto – more comparable to New York or San Francisco than Dallas. This cost of accommodation is a clear sign that something is wrong if we’re not getting a Geneva, Switzerland level quality of life in return

Outside of my apartment building after 7pm, the homeless people rolled in to sleep outside, and this is while the temperatures dropped to below freezing. All of the homeless people I met were very kind when I chatted with them but still avoided eye contact in a heartbreaking way. My heart split in two on my last night when I had a box of food that I wasn’t able to that I didn’t want to go to waste. I walked for 15 minutes for a good spot to leave the food and make it accessible to anyone who needed it. While I was walking, a clearly homeless man walked across the street to avoid me but went back to the box as a I left it. I walked up to him with the intention of asking if he needed anything, however, he broke the silence first.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” I replied, confused.

“For taking this. Is it ok?” he said?

“Absolutely. I wish you’d asked me for it while I was walking so I could see if you needed anything.”

“Most people don’t want to talk to us, and I’m scared of getting in trouble again,” he replied.

That split my heart in two, to the point that I felt tears starting.

“Do you need anything? Something warm? A hot coffee?” I asked. Mind you, the temperature was still below freezing.

“No, no, thank you. We’ll get by. We always get by. Thank you for this,” he said genuinely, politely, as he motioned to walk off.

I sat there somewhat shocked that someone could not only be allowed to live like this, but was clearly pushed socially to the fringes of “society.” As I remained there stunned and pondering, he took the box and nudged a pile of blankets in the parking lot across the street, from which a man and woman emerged. He offered them whatever they wanted from the box. He then walked to another pile, and another pile, offering until the box was almost empty, then disappeared in the dark.

This interaction happened my last night in Dallas, and this homeless man’s actions made that the most socially responsible, heart filling moment of that trip, and it was by a man that clearly had nothing, but was still making an effort to take care of the other people seemingly dismissed by society. To add insult to injury, this all happened 10 minutes walking distance from the financial center of Dallas, one of the wealthiest clusters in the nation.

For all of America’s greatness, and all of the heart-breaking things I’ve seen, I’ve never seen a people abandon their own so deeply while building and maintaining a tower of wealth on their backs.

In America, you get what you pay for. And what you don’t pay for, you don’t get. Healthy food. Clean air. Clean water. A greenspace to walk in, feel alive, and play with your children. Even the right (privilege?) of feeling like a human that is part of society. If you think deeply, in America, if you don’t pay for it, you don’t get it. And no one will do a thing about it.

Yes, the BBQ brisket was delicious. Yes, the Chick-fil-a was delicious. Yes, the apartment I stayed in was pretty, with its modern décor and view of downtown. But that only does so much for your soul, when someone dies next to your building because they are sleeping outside in freezing temperatures, and no one can give a good reason why.

By comparison, in Bali, in “my village” when the school needed a new roof for the local kids’ safety, someone mentioned it and the expats pooled together and purchased a new roof, for the public good. There are no homeless adults in my village. Several of my friends donate privately, and quietly, to local orphanages, visiting to connect with the kids over the years. Food is shared. Not everyone has full bellies, but no one goes hungry. That scenario isn’t perfect, but there is beauty to it.

And there is more beauty there, than being in a place where people die in the cold, more scared of what will happen if they speak up in their time of need.

Beyond the wallet breaking situation of cost of living, and the heart-breaking situation of homelessness, life in the US, at least in Dallas, Texas, felt “anemic” at best.

In the city, you are welcome to walk on sidewalks along shop filled streets, bombarding you with marketing and advertisements of things you “need” (to feel better) and urgency to buy now because that thing is cheaper now than it will be in two weeks. But, finding a park with toddlers running around with their moms not worried about their safety, a couple on a blanket having picnic, a group of teens just sitting there chatting and enjoying the sun, or some 20 somethings playing a game of football just for “fun” were scarce sights. If you want to enjoy yourself, the choice is paying $100 for a very unhealthy meal out, or going to drink alcohol at a bar. Art, music, craft markets, and public spaces to be outside were few and far between, unless manufactured by some business to look “home townish” but still sell you an overpriced experience.

Welcoming parks were only in the wealthy areas, and to get there you needed a car, as public transportation takes hours to travel even the shortest of distances in transport that is satisfactory at best and “a lil’ nasty” at worst.

Obesity and Food Crises: Poor quality of life at the most basic levels sabotages far more

Lastly, obesity is rampant in the US, a bigger problem than most realize, and its factors are alarming.

In the US, 46% of the population is obese. I only know this because the number of obese people I observed shocked me so much that I asked the question along with asking why there is so much obesity in the US.

But it makes sense.

If you’re locked inside at a job sitting down for at least 10 hours a day, and your only joy in life is food or alcohol, what’s to be expected? Add that to the fact that you only escape this job for 2 weeks a year, which you’re obligated to allocate to the consumption holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas. What else is to be expected?

Last, if every single healthy, natural, enjoyable activity – like walking, or playing with your children in the park, or enjoying a sport for fun – isn’t designed into that cityscape or (worse) overpriced to experience, how will there be any room for healthy activity in your lifestyle?

Yes, you can go to the gym. But humans lived mildly healthy lives for thousands of years before gyms. And, for most people, gyms are one of the least enjoyable activities possible in daily life. Just as well, the gyms that almost make the experience enjoyable are the ones that charge exorbitant costs at a time when people are already struggling to pay for (healthy) food and (comfortable) housing.

Add this to the food situation in the US, and the odds are against you of not becoming obese and not dying of heart disease.

For comparison, here in Bali I’m lucky enough to drive 20 minutes once a week and pay $5 for an “artisanal” loaf of sea salt sourdough bread. The ingredients are simple enough that I actually make it at home too. Foremost, this sourdough bread is so delicious and so enjoyable and flavorful to eat that I rarely eat more than one slice at a time. Second, sourdough bread is ridiculously healthy due to a bacteria in the bread that takes the place of yeast and blunts blood sugar levels while improving gut health. Pound for pound, when it comes to eating tasty bread that’s also healthy, you can’t go wrong with sourdough. And I have three places I can go to and buy this healthy and tasty bread, in a developing country in Asia where most people don’t even eat bread.

By contrast, in the US, I went to 10 different grocery stores over a week to find a loaf of bread that tastes good and had a reasonable ingredients list, from a health standpoint. I couldn’t find one.

Here in Bali, I grow hundreds of tasty tomatoes in my garden, and the whole process costs less than $5. If I am not growing tomatoes, I drive to a vegetable market 5 minutes away to get fresh, tasty vegetable ingredients for a simple meal.

By contrast, the shelves of grocery stores in the US were filled completely with packaged food, ready made frozen meals, candies, and the like which, as expected, filled the grocery carts I walked past. Every vegetable I purchased tasted like water and cooked so oddly most of my meals cooked at home turned out like garbage.

So, what could you expect to happen to a population wherein food is the primary joy, but that food is objectively worse tasting and unhealthier than what is I can easily find in all of the third world countries I travel?

You get the obesity crisis stacked with a quality of life crisis that most Americans are living through right now, without even realizing it.

What’s the Point: If you are an American, especially if you’re considering moving abroad, be aware, and be intentional

I could spend tens of thousands of words critiquing the situation and quality of life in America, but what is the point? My point, of sharing these observations with you, is, if you are currently in the US right now, to be aware of the situation you are living in, understand how it compares to a potential life abroad, assess what is best for you, and intentionally choose your path forward.

Relative to Thailand, Bali, Colombia, and Argentina, I feel like I didn’t observe many happy Americans in Dallas. I observed busy Americans, productive Americans, eating Americans, drunk Americans, and overcaffeinated Americans aplenty. I also observed many obese Americans, and Americans that were clearly spending precious resources consuming more than they needed in the moment.

Judgment aside, I don’t think any of them planned a life path to whatever state I observed them in. Also, given a choice twenty years ago to decide where they would be in this moment compared to the alternatives (spending that beer money on a hut on the beach in Thailand) I’m not sure they would choose “fat in Dallas” or “overworked in New York” as their target end state.

Now, I’m sharing these observations to tell you that the matrix exists (the American rat race, or varying rat races in other countries), so that later when you can choose between the red pill and blue pill you can choose which is best for you

To save breath for now, if you are an American now assessing your life, assess the following in the context of you and what you want from life:

1. Car culture: How much time do you spend in a car and how much of your resources (time and money) have to go into that car

2. Arts and Culture: How often do you get to enjoy the live music, art exhibits, shows, and arts/culture entertainment you would love in life, without a price tag?

3. Earning, consumption, and happiness: How much of your life, time, and energy do you spend earning, what do you spend those hard earned funds on, and how much happiness and satisfaction does that consumption give back compared to what it takes away?

What’s great about America: Making money and national parks

For all of my criticism after a single week in the US, why don’t I just give up my US passport?

Well, while I will be getting a second passport in the future, there are still some amazing reasons to maintain a connection to the US.

First, the US is unparalleled in making money. Building a business to serve US markets, online or brick and mortar, is far more lucrative than anywhere else in the world. While I will personally continue investing in real estate abroad, I will continue writing, publishing, and selling products in the US. If you are lucky enough to build a business in the US that supports a life abroad and working remotely (comfortably), you have hit a unicorn space that you should keep and defend. If you have not, then as of today, you should start looking into building a business that serves the US markets but allows you to exist elsewhere.

Secondly, if you can build a situation in the US wherein your costs are fixed (like owning a home) and in a neighborhood or home situation that naturally cultivates healthy balance (i.e., homesteading or a hipster neighborhood and planned community that offers everything within blocks), you are not as vulnerable to the cost of living crisis and common culture/social factors in US life that add up to an unhealthy or unsatisfying life.

Third, the US national parks system is arguably the best in the world, as well as the US’ expansive network of open roads. If you are forced to participate in the rat race and live in a concrete jungle in the US, and escaping abroad is not an option for you, look into buying a tent and camp stove and exploring the US National Park systems. Simply taking a vacation for two weeks in a couple of national parks for two weeks will improve your quality of life drastically, and open your world to an easy, healthy way of improving your life. If you don’t know where to start, go to REI and tell them you need basic kit for car camping, then plan a trip to Yellowstone National Park, Yosemite National Park, Rock Mountain National Park Park, or Big Bend National Park.

The amenities, convenience, accessibility, and beauty of the US National Parks system is rivaled only by the national park, nature, and outdoor tourism infrastructure in Japan and Chile.

The US: A great place to make money, but unforgiving in its poor quality of life, in a way most Americans will never realize

At the end of a week in the United States, I felt I’d returned to America in far worse shape than I left her. Though I still urge every American to maintain their bank accounts and businesses in the US**, I firmly believe that most Americans can find a more fulfilling, satisfying, healthy life elsewhere.

(In the articles and books to come, I will share the destinations I know will lead to a better quality of life, and how to make them happen, so please stay tuned and subscribe to my newsletter**.)

However, I was on my way to Argentina – a country that was simultaneously the home of my dreams yet in a deep economic crisis and had just elected an “insane” president, Javier Miliei.

Bali had soured for me. The US seemed to be approaching its “season finale” Game of Thrones style. What would the odds be that my potentially pessimistic mindset would find a reason to fault Argentina as a potential place to live?

The answer is…zero possibility.

In Argentina, I found everything that the US had lost, as well as my new home.

Next in this series: Part 2 | Argentina and the End of the World: Paradise Found

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