Part 2 | Paradise Found: The Experience of Moving to Argentina

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Chapters in this Story of Experiencing Buenos Aires

• The Mission: Argentina as a New Home
• The Plan: Arrive, apartment, permanent residence, passport
• Why Argentina is Argentina so perfect for nomads and Flexpats?
• Finally arriving in Argentina…14 years later
• The soothing sights and smells of a situation better than expected
• Buenos Aires by foot: The best way to experience her
• The Palermo neighborhoods of Buenos Aires: A prime example of livability
• The Palermo Forests: Tourists, and tapirs, and maras, oh my!
• Embracing the Past as a Pleasant Present: What Buenos Aires does best
• Living in the 90’s…and it’s fantastic!
• My 40^th Birthday: A marathon walked, a glass of wine, and an insight for the decades
• Every paradise has it’s flaws, and Argentina is no exception. Here’s how…
• Poverty: It exists but Argentines don’t let that slow down daily life
• My request of travelers, nomads, and expats aiming for Argentina
• The Elephant in the Room: Political risk and how the future will be shaped by Argentina’s eccentric president and the Argentine economic crisis
• The End Too Soon: Paperwork becomes the death (or delay) of dreams
• The Adventure of “Finding Home” as a Flexpat
• The Next Adventure: Going home…but first wine

3AM. Time to get moving. Buenos Aires, Argentina was on the horizon

As I rolled out of bed in my AirBnB of downtown Dallas, saddled up, and put on my shoes, and grabbed my bags, I broke my #1 travel rule as I made my way downstairs to my Uber.

I had two bags.

I never carry two bags.

My rule is, only one bag, small enough to carry on a plane. Always.

In 2017, I traveled for an entire year with a single carryon sized backpack and never longed for anything…except maybe another year on the road traveling.

However, now was “different.” I was traveling to my dream destination and potential home, Argentina. But, according to the media, the country was in the midst of an economic crisis with a purportedly cavalier new libertarian president and so many tariffs that the social media chatter claimed it would be a royal pain to buy anything we didn’t bring. Whatever I flew with was all we had for the next six months

So, I broke my rule and departed the US carrying an extra duffle bag with “essentials” in addition to a a new laptop and $9,700 in crisp new US $100 bills, with the goal of a new residency leading to a new passport.

But, why? Why of all places was I going to Argentina in the middle of an economic and supposed political crisis?

Two reasons: To continue a dream experience from a decade before, and to make a new home in (for me) a promising, futureproof corner of the world.

As I placed my two overloaded bags in the trunk of the Uber, and closed the door, I relaxed into the darkness of my Uber’s back seat as a wave of relief and feeling of “finally,” came over me as my next “phase” of travel, and life in general, began.

But, let’s rewind back 14 years to feel out how this Argentine adventure started.

Mission: Argentina

Venturing into South America to continue my 2011 adventure, makeup for my canceled plans in 2020, and assess a new home

In 2010, just after a year of emotionally draining and soul cracking stint of contract work for the US Department of Defense in dark spots the Middle East, I was in a very “interesting” place in my life. To be honest, I was burned out in a way I’d never felt before and reached a point where I couldn’t tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys on the battlefield. I deeply just wanted to sit in a quiet space and get my soul back while I figured out how to reconnect with humanity. That precise moment is when the idea of traveling to Argentina was first planted in this little traveler’s brain.

Keep in mind, that at the time the only countries I’d been to outside of the US were Iraq and Mexico. That was it. So, the feeling coming over my ignorant mind was interesting, to say the least.

I confided in a well-traveled friend that I felt, for some weird reason, I wasn’t ready to go back to the US but didn’t know where to go next. Without hesitation he replied, “Argentina. Go to Buenos Aires, and you’ll figure out what’s next from there.”

Confused by his speedy response, I naturally asked, “Why Argentina?” At that point, I knew nothing about Argentina beyond the fact that Madonna starred in a movie about the country. In so many words, he replied that Argentina was a beautiful place (figuratively and literally) that was a mix of many cultures, beautifully stuck in a time warp of days past, was filled with nature beyond belief, and was so close to the edge of civilization that everyone left it alone.

In the cracks of that interesting description, he said the place was filled with great steak and beautiful women.

I was sold.

In the first week in January 2011, just over a week after returning to US soil, I bought a flight to Buenos Aires, and a return ticket from Argentina and back to home in San Diego, California.

This plan gave me three months to explore from the metropolis of Buenos Aires to desolate Ushuaia at the country’s southern tip, close to Antarctica. Just me, my backpack and a paperback Lonely Planet guide.

Fast forward to day one in Buenos Aires and while I was having a slice of Argentina’s notoriously interesting pizza my paperback Lonely Planet travel guide was snagged off my table at a café while I wasn’t looking…but the culprit left my pizza and I was still in Argentina, so I was happy enough.

This little twist is interesting because, as normal in 2011, I was traveling with no cell phone connection, no connected smart phone, no travel blogs, no Instagram reels, and, now, no travel guidebook. My only source of information was showing up to hostels, finding whoever looked like the friendliest person in the room and asked them what they were doing in the city, and where they were going next, then literally stole their itinerary.

Thanks to my mooched travel plans, I wandered by bus from Buenos Aires, to the wine country of Mendoza, to the Swiss Alps styled Lakes District, and impromptu hiking the wilds of Patagonia, before finally laying on the beach with Penguins at the end of the world. I learned Spanish and made friends from around the world. I lived out of a backpack with no expectations. I received more of an education in living than any university offered me.

Three months later I ended my trip in Buenos Aires the most peaceful and content version of myself I’d ever known, unfortunately aware of other ways to live (traveling) and other places to spend precious months and years of my valuable years on this planet (Argentina).

I boarded my final flight back to San Diego, California intent on one day living in that city that had opened my eyes to limitless cultural warmth and the beautiful chaos that is the undercurrent of the Paris of South America.

Ten years later, in 2020, sitting in Bali, Indonesia with tickets to South America booked, I was supposed to fulfill that promise to myself of returning to Argentina, to live for a year. However, a global pandemic had other plans. Instead of sipping wine in Recoleta or overindulging on artisanal chocolate in Bariloche, I was “stuck” on Bali, and forced to make the most of time, living and surfing on Bali, and cultivating “third homes” in Thailand, Malaysia, and Japan. Admittedly, Bali was arguably the best place in the world to be during the pandemic, like living in Peter Pan’s Neverland with the bohemian surf and yoga population running the island as the Lost Boys. However, I never forgot that promise to myself of a full summer in Buenos Aires.

Fast forward four more years and several flights later to January 20224. Now. I was aboard an American Airlines plane on the tarmac at DFW airport in Dallas, Texas, finally seated and hopeful, waiting for that one way flight to Buenos Aires to take off. I was heading to the travel “home” that had opened my eyes to different, better ways to live, and that’d I’d been fighting the currents of life to get back to.

The Plan: Arrive, apartment, permanent residence, passport

Though I was fulfilling a decade old promise to myself to live in Buenos Aires for a summer, there was much more attached to this trip than mere wandering and experience. A life plan built not around the exploring traveler version of Carlos in 2010, but the “nomad” and “flexpat*” I’d become. I was strategically choosing to test Argentina as a potential home based on quality of life, and moving pieces on the chess board for my long term plan. Argentina had become a pivotal element of my end plan as a “lifestyle expat.”

My goal, this trip, was to feel out if Argentina could be the beautiful home I wanted her to be, even amidst her chaos that was filling the headlines internationally:

Economic Crisis. Inflation running at 250%+. Crazy libertarian president Javier Milei shutting down social and cultural programs while he literally ran around with a chainsaw. Violence and unrest in surrounding Latin American countries.

More importantly, I had my eye on a permanent residency, more commonly known as a “Rentista Visa” that would allow me to live in Argentina indefinitely. Additionally, this residency permit could lead to an (additional) Argentine passport in two years, and all of the rights and privileges that come with a citizen of a Mercosur in South America.

But, with a US passport already in my pocket, and such horrible reporting about Argentina in the news, why would I even consider such a purportedly unstable country as a potential new home?

As a nomad I’ve learned, if you want to find beautiful places to live, that suit you, then ignore the news. Trust the words of other nomads and travelers offering recent, firsthand experiences, but ignore the news.

News outlets generally only publish what sells, what goes viral, and what gets clicks. Though the buzzworthy version of the news tends to be exaggerated, sensational, or exciting, in my experience international fear mongering reporting is quite often baseless and usually flat out false. Moreover, “the news” is commonly written by people that haven’t even visited the location they’re writing on (I can see through this in many articles), merely codifying the slanted opinions shouted at them from echo chambers.

Across the spectrum, this assumption that international news can usually be taken with a massive grain of salt has held through in political reporting, reporting on wars, reporting on destinations, and crises. As a kicker, and a general perception guideline, the most loudly reported “crisis” is undeserving of the attention, while the greatest atrocities rarely make your news or social media feed. Like black holes in outer space, the events with the most gravity usually fall under their own weight (and repercussions) and are never noticed by the average person. Keep this in mind the next time you react to something that the “algorithm” delivers you to deter you from an opportunity.

The result of this “style of reporting” is polarized news that, for travelers, retirees, and nomads, says “You must go here to be happy” or “don’t go here or you’ll die” with neither statement being completely true in most cases.

What is generally true is, if a location goes viral on Instagram or is widely reported on in the news, its too late. It is likely over touristed and overpriced by the time it has been pushed on your “travel to do list.”

What is also true, in most cases, is that most places dismissed as dangerous but are not in the midst of a war, or not in the midst of a verifiable crisis, may be the unsung hero among travel destinations. Turkey, Jordan, Laos, and Myanmar were among these handfuls of unsung heroes for me (at the time). However, if another nomad or traveler tells you based on firsthand experience don’t go, it’s best not to go.

The last truth is, the best locations you will find are the ones that don’t make the news positively or negatively. You may hear about them word of mouth, or stumble on them between cities or in a tour flyer, but they’re not sensational or “insta-cred filled” enough to warrant the buzz. These are the gems.

This tendency for the best travel gems to be quietly whispered places you accidentally stumble upon is also one more reason to wander by bus, train, motorbike, or car as often as possibly, skipping the flights for hopes of stumbling on a hidden “travel oasis” that few know about, few see, and few share, but is filled with those little authentic elements that make travel feel real for you.

But, specifically, amidst a few widely reported crises, why was I still so committed to a summer in Argentina?

Why Argentina is Argentina so perfect for nomads and flexpats?

• Cultural melting pot, mixing European culture and Latin American culture in one of the most pleasing ways you’ll ever find
• Healthy living, easily, from lifestyle and activities to food
• A beautifully warm and welcoming people
• Amazingly beautiful nature
• Food and wine culture

Cultural melting pot, mixing European culture and Latin American culture in one of the most pleasing ways you’ll ever find

For centuries, Argentina was a place where European immigrants from Italy, Spain, and Germany, would run to in hopes of a better life, bringing with them their grape vines, pasta recipes, beer affinity, and architecture. Add that to the gaucho cowboy culture that sprouted in South America along with the Afro-Brazilian population and flare that leak over from neighboring Brazil, you have a very interesting melting pot of cultures. This get’s expressed in the food, the architecture, the daily lifestyle, and (my favorite) the warmth between people in Argentina and the entire region.

Healthy living, easily, from lifestyle and activities to food

Though Argentina has a reputation for being a carnivore country, a deserved reputation that you won’t hear much about is actually healthy eating and healthy lifestyle. Whereas in the US, almost one in two people was obese, in Buenos Aires, you’ll have a tough time finding fat people. Why?

The food is actually simple and fresh. Vegetable shops, fresh pasta shops, and meat shops on every block encouraging cooking at home with good, healthy ingredients instead of eating out.

The daily lifestyle, and weekend lifestyle, of Argentines encourages healthy activity. Many people walk to work. On weekends, most stores shutdown and people spend time in the parks walking, running, and playing with family friends.

Though your average Colombian or Brazilian will fault Argentina for its lack of complexity in food (I do love Colombian food), Argentines lean more towards an Italian approach to food which means simple, quality ingredients, prepared well. That in itself is a step towards a healthy diet for almost anyone.

Yes, you will find gyms smattered across Buenos Aires, but more importantly you’ll find people naturally active in daily lives (walking, carrying groceries, walking their dog) and engaging in enjoyable activities outside with loved ones over the weekend. Though this likely sounds normal to Europeans (and should be) this nugget would save many lives and improve the quality of many lives in the US

A beautifully warm and welcoming people

After 7 years bouncing from city to city I’ve learned that living among warm, cordial, engaging people does wonders for quality of life. In Thailand, befriending the aunties and seeing them daily put a smile on my face. In Portugal, connecting with the nonchalant locals and having them invite you to friend and family gatherings feels as good as the wine. In Argentina, having the people in your neighborhood recognize you, greet you, and bring you in feels just as a amazing.

Though learning Spanish is essential to living in Argentina and connecting on a deeper level, it is 100% worth it. Partly because it makes daily life easier, and partly because having conversations with those crazy Argentines makes them more lovable and more likely to pull you in deeper.

Amazingly beautiful nature

Prior to traveling, the highlights of my life revolved around mountains, beaches, and greenspaces. In San Diego I spent much of my time at the beach. On vacations, Yosemite National Park and Rocky Mountain National park were some of my favorites. In Europe, the plazas and groomed parks, especially in Vienna, were some of my favorite places to spend and afternoon, with friends or alone.

Argentina delivers the same in spades. From the 1000’s of acres of parks in Buenos Aires, to the “Swiss Alps” like cities around the lake districts, to the endless trails through towering mountains around El Chalten in Patagonia, nature lovers will easily have their appetites filled in Argentina.

Food and wine culture

Last, food and wine.

With Italian, Spanish, and German culture mixed into a place that is a major beef and agricultural producer, not only is the food simple yet good – especially if you cook at home – but healthy.

As for the wine, dear God. Argentine wine is a pleasantry because it is so cheap, and so good. Though I was on a no drinking stint while in Buenos Aires, that didn’t last long as I was tempted with $5 bottles of oaked Chardonnay while paying $3 for a ribeye and $2 for a block of Parmesan cheese. For carnivores, home chefs, and wine fans, existing in Argentina puts the best of food and wine at your fingertips.

Now, after 14 years I was back, gambling that Argentina was the place to be.

Click here to learn more about the process of moving to Argentina

Finally arriving in Argentina…14 years later

As I rustled awake in my airplane seat after an 11-hour flight, the plane bumped as the wheels bounced along the runway, touching down on Argentine soil. I’d landed. After a four-year flight delay, I’d made it to Buenos Aires.

Mere minutes later I was walking down the jetway and through the EZE airport chuckling but somewhat comforted by how plain and slightly outdated everything looked, as it was a style you’d only see in the southern Americas. In a place I wanted to be.

The immigration officer behind the window took my passport lazily as she chattered a faster than light sentence at me in what sounded like Spanish but felt like Italian, between clearly sassy quips with her colleague one lane over.

“Business or vacation?” She asked with a heavy “Porteno” accent as she chuckled.

“Vacation.” I replied with hesitation as a I realized I was here finally, I could let my guard down, and I was actually on vacation. Few things feel as sweet as that moment of realization did.

With that, she handed back my passport and waved me on. No passport stamp. No intimidating questions or look to keep me in my place as a foreigner. Just “bienvenidos,” a sassy smile, and a welcome into my new country.

This, a welcoming and accepting vibe towards immigrants, is a reason the country is so high on my list for potential homes – as Argentina is a country descended primarily from immigrants. In contrast with Indonesia, that charges roughly $100 for every day that you overstay a visa (even if this happens due to clerical error on the part of your visa agent) and has recently assembled immigration enforcement task forces specifically to hunt down tourists that are supposedly “misbehaving” or working (even remotely) on the wrong visa, Argentina takes a very Laissez Faire approach to visitors and immigrants.

In terms of “anti-foreigner” and cultural preservation practices, the classic Argentine response is to simply dismiss you and keep doing what they’re doing. For instance, speaking Spanish is highly encouraged, as Argentines may rightly refuse to speak English for lazy, disrespectful tourists. Not in the stereotypical Parisian “you’re not good enough for me” way, but more of an, “ain’t nobody got time for that” with that Kimberly “Sweet Brown” Wilkins pizzazz. Nothing malicious and more entertaining than not.

Beyond these common-sense practices, Argentines take a few other natural measures to preserve their culture, customs, and the way of life they enjoy – like closing down most shops on Sunday (even if you did forget to buy toilet paper). But beyond this, very little happens to directly foreigners with an aim to inconvenience them any more than Argentines. Even within immigration policy, Argentine Immigration rarely even penalizes visa overstays, as proven by expats that have stayed for years on the wrong visa with no issues (though I do ask if you go to Argentina, please play by the rules so you don’t spoil things for the rest of us).

What is more appealing to me is the Argentine naturalization policy that after 2 years of legitimate (legal) stay and learning Spanish and proving you’ve paid your taxes, the Argentina Immigration Courts will, at your request, award you full Argentine citizenship. Contrast this with virtually every Asian country with strict visa laws, sometimes harsh enforcement, and a flat-out refusal to award citizenship or even allow dual citizenship and you can see a clear difference in how welcoming Latin America can be versus many xenophobic countries throughout Asia.

It’s worth noting that many of the Latin American countries I recommend to expats, Like Colombia, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, and the like, have immigration policies with a welcome very similar to Argentina: be a good person, do the right thing, respect the culture, and they’re happy to have you as not just a money spending guest, but as a brother/sister within their borders.

Though I absolutely wasn’t feeling that warm a welcome from the immigration officer, I clearly felt that I was back in Argentina, and that I was welcome.

The soothing sights and smells of a situation better than expected: Starbucks, Uber and freeways, Latam style

I picked up my bags quickly, did an initial grab of cash from the ATM at the “official currency exchange rate” instead of the “blue dollar rate” I would find on the streets in “arbolitos” and “little caves” (more on that later) that I had a stack of 97 crisp $100 bills for in my backpack, and headed for the rideshare pickup area.

As I strolled lazily through the airport enjoying my welcome back, I saw families reuniting, friends saying goodbye, and clearly solo travelers with backpacks and smiles on their faces. For this place to be in an “economic crisis,” everyone sure was in a good mood.

Then, I passed one of the last things I’d expect to see in the Buenos Aires airport given the news: Starbucks.

You see, Argentina has been in an economic crisis for 10+ years, in which an artificially held exchange rate (by the government) and price inflation sometimes exceeding 250% have made many international brands inaccessible…supposedly. You see, with the unstable pricing and drastic price increases, the salary of the average Argentine lost so much value each day (relative to other currencies) that international brand name items tended to be out of reach financially and increasingly harder to find as they disappeared from the Argentine marketplace. This, price inflation situation, combined with the typical import tariffs that Argentina charges in line with a very socialist country essentially scared off most international brands…supposedly. Those brands that were left selling their products and services were supposedly doing so at a ridiculous price premium that made it necessary for me to buy that second backpack and bring in all of the brand name items I’d want for 6 months…supposedly.

Yet, here I was, 15 minutes off the plane, standing in front a damn Starbucks.

But, were the prices high?

Latte: $3 (at the unofficial rate).

That Latte, at $3, in a country going through an economic crisis was cheaper than the mud coffee I bought anywhere in Dallas that came with a free side of stale bitterness most of the time.

As this moment indicated, I would find out later that life goes on, and affordably, in Argentina. Every single issue published in the news as something to worry about in Argentina would turn out to be a non-issue (for me as a foreigner that was lucky enough to earn a living in US dollars), and a non-issue for the innovative Argentine solutions.

Life in Argentina was already showing lots of potential, but it was time to get “home.”

I flipped on my Google Fi sim card that connected to the network perfectly, seamlessly ordered a $10 Uber for the 45 minute ride to the AirBnB in my new hood. Within minutes I was on my way to settle into my new home.

Palermo, Buenos Aires.

As I began my ride from the airport, the thing I feared most wasn’t the economic crisis, or an unstable political situation, but instead, my own expectations

In a good story, this would be the point where I share how, during that 45-minute ride from Buenos Aires Airport into the Autonomous City of Buenos Aires (locally known as “CABA”), I struggled with anticipation and worry that the “new Argentina” wouldn’t live up to the expectations and memories I had experiencing her in days past. This would be the part that I second guessed whether leaving a customized paradise in Bali 5 minutes from the ocean, for a place consistently making negative headlines was even a descent idea much less bad.

However, this may not be a good story…but it is a true story.

In truth, as I laid in the back of that old sedan, I leaned my head against the window and relaxed into myself while the Spanish guitar sounds of The Gypsy Kings blared just loudly enough over the radio as the Argentine drive sang along. Cars passed as we sped down an a wide laned freeway, lined with endless green trees and clear blue skies, with a clearly enormous city looming in the distance. Everything about this moment felt right.

“It looks exactly like California,” my brother messaged back on Whatsapp, in response to the pictures I was sending him to keep him up to date.

No congested traffic. No piles of trash. No loud honking or motorbikes whizzing between. Just a short road trip, with a Gypsy Kings soundtrack.

But why did I feel so relaxed, so eager for the moments to come, and so at home?

I can’t fully put why into words. I guess you needed to be there. I hope one day, you are there.

On that peaceful ride from my past into my present, I did think about and plan the adventures I would have in Argentina. Hundreds of miles of trekking between the mountains and lakes of San Carlos de Bariloche. Biking between wineries and Michelin star restaurants on a lazy weekend in Mendoza. Retracing my footsteps and rock climbing through El Chalten and Patagonia. And perhaps crossing paths with a penguin or two again somewhere along the way.

I was excited to re-experience everything that this vast, underrated, and misunderstood place had to offer.

A true Buenos Aires welcome: Architecture past, present…future?

As we crossed into the “Ciudad Autonomous de Buenos Aires,” better known as CABA, I could feel the city.

The tree lined streets and numerous greenspaces passing by. The busy sidewalks, filled with “Portenos” bustling back and forth between street vendors and “kioskos.” But mostly, the architecture, with a clear European influence – French, Italian, Spanish, maybe even German – but oddly, from times past.

I personally believe, one of the most definitive predictors of whether or not you will enjoy your time Buenos Aires, and Argentina as a whole, is your opinion on first sight of the buildings in Buenos Aires. Not just the architecture, the actual buildings themselves.

You see, Buenos Aires is, like Argentina, a land built by immigrants. Because many of those immigrants came from Italy and Spain sometime between the 1850’s and the 1940’s. Along with them, they brought their tastes from that era, including wine, food, and of course, architecture. Because of this, as you look around you on your ride into the city, you’ll notice Spanish, Italian, French, and even German style architecture. However, here’s the catch, the architecture still looks like the classical architecture from that era of Europe. It has seemingly never been updated since.

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In Buenos Aires, as you look at the buildings, it’s almost as if the Argentines built something that satisfied them, that stayed true to their heritage, and simply left it alone. Yes, they’ve maintained the buildings (somewhat) since they were initially built, but for the most part they are still content with living in the remnants of that more classic European era.

Yes, the buildings across Buenos Aires are dilapidated in places, clearly chipped, and could have used a new coat of paint decades ago. However, whether you see beauty and character in this or see disappointment is a personal bent that will trickle through your entire experience in Argentina.

Here’s a little insight from this moment that can you found your own Buenos Aires as a nomad or flexpat:

How we each see something imperfect and character filled speaks just as much about us and our own views on the world as it does about the thing we’re assessing. As a nomad, or lifestyle expat, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this liking or disliking a place for what it is. However, in the process of lifestyle design as a nomad or expat – choosing locations that excel in delivering the things that you want or need in life, pay close attention to these preferences and reactions you have. With enough of that information, about yourself and the world around you, you’ll be able to find and move to a place, or split between places, that perfect for you in all their imperfection.

For me, whenever I see the character filled buildings of Argentina seemingly from Europe hundreds of years ago, with their street corners surrounded classy old men with sport coat and hat in hand, I’m reminded of the timeless bits of character that Argentine’s naturally have held onto, while the rest of the world sprints into the information and experience age chasing consumerism and all things brand new. These little things that Argentine culture clings to are the little things that made me return.

As I hopped out of my Uber at the AirBnB, an apartment on the 3^rd floor of an old Palermo district building, I unloaded my overstuffed bags, immediately regretting my packing as I hauled the bags up three flights of stairs. With that, it was time to explore the city.

Buenos Aires by foot: The best way to experience her

Buenos Aires is an expansive and massive swath of Argentina, being both a province (Argentina Province) and an autonomous city (Ciudad Autonoma de Buenos Aires). You could spend years wandering these streets and barrios and not experience them all. However, “Barrio Norte” has always been my go to, including Recoleta, Retiro, and the expansive Palermo neighborhood.

Specifically, the neighborhood of “Palermo” stuck out as the place I wanted to spend my time.

In 2011, Palermo was where the now extinct population of hipsters setup their bars and experimental restaurants.

In 2014, when I passed through briefly, Palermo was the new home of many young professionals.

Now, in 2024, I could smell that the “digital nomads” that had been adventurous enough to blast through Argentina’s news coverage and still come, would be making Palermo the South American version of Chiang Mai, and (unfortunate) counterpart to Medellin’s El Pobaldo**. However, whether or not Instagram was on path to spoil most prospective new home, I still wanted to experience it. And it was well worth it…

The Palermo neighborhoods of Buenos Aires: A prime example of livability

When I talk about my favorite places in the world for livability and nomading, Chiang Mai, Kuala Lumpur, and Medellin are top of the list, but all of these nomad hubs tie at second place in comparison to Palermo SoHo, Palermo Hollywood, and Palermo Woods. That first walk through my new neighborhood made it very clear that I’d remembered clearly and chosen the right new home.

As I departed my building, passing a barred window of a downstairs apartment, the “guard” came out to greet us. A puffy, floofy white cat with a lovable temperament meowed incessantly as if to say “though shalt not pass unless though pet me.” I wanted to pass, so I did, feeling guilty that I’d just reached through someone’s window to pet their cat. As we walked off, I saw the little cat guard demanding her toll of “pets and scritches” from every person that passed until she was satisfied, and they obliged. Interesting.

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We lived exactly three blocks from our first destination, “Bosques de Palermo,” or “The forests of Palermo.” Roughly 1000 acres of public parks and greenspaces, beautifully manicured to welcome the city’s citizens for a healthy, natural day out. Bosques de Palermo is referred to as the lung of Buenos Aires, and is a protected greenspace that not only cleans the city’s air, but is a shared space for cleansing your mind with a quiet moment or a picnic with a bottle of wine, or cleansing your body with a run in the park.

A scene of the lake between the Buenos Aires Eco Parque and Bosques de Palermo

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This, making a large park the first destination in a new city, may seem odd, but allow me to put this in perspective. First, how far you live from a greenspace has been proven by researchers to correlate with quality of life and heart disease risk. Second, during the last 4 years I’d lived on Bali, I had only seen one, single park, which was actually a restricted use soccer field. I hadn’t realized until living on Bali how important and healthy it is to have well-kept, walkable public spaces in nature where anyone can go, be active, and spend time outside, doing, or not doing, for free.

In Bali, yes, we had countless beaches, but half the year they are covered in plastic during the rainy season, and the other half of the year, they’re covered in vendors that charge to sit on the beach, or refuse to let you sit in peace until you buy something. By contrast, maintaining 1000 acres of prime real estate in the most expensive neighborhood in the country to keep for trees, parks, and botanical garden says a lot about a city, and a people’s priorities. And capibaras. There was literally a capibara.

But we weren’t at the Bosques de Palermo yet. We still had three blocks to walk.

On that short three block walk, I felt no indication of any crisis. If there was an economic crisis, no one had told these Argentines. Or, more likely the case, the Argentines hadn’t let it affect them.

Twenty somethings lovingly walked their dogs. Couples pushed strollers chatting. Normal people were just going about their business.

On the way, we passed three coffee shops, three meat shops hawking great looking and amazingly cheap steaks, three boutique wine shops, two gyms and two freshly made pasta shops. By contrast, in America and in Bali, I would need to drive 20 to 30 minutes to pass what I’d passed in 3 blocks of walking in BsAs, but I promise the quality (in Bali and the US) wouldn’t compare.

Beyond the things I cared about (food and kittens apparently) there were clothing shops, tailors, grocery stores, electronic stores, and more carrying the brands I’d been told would be impossible to find in Buenos Aires. Yes, the Columbia jackets and DJI drones were marked up 20% as expected, likely because of the tariffs. However, the verdict was the 3 block stretch of Palermo SoHo had everything I need in life to live happy and work contently.

My panic purchasing and packing led to nothing, except an impromptu workout climbing the stairs.

From an objective standpoint, Buenos Aires had already proven it had everything I needed to live a happy productive life.

Then, we finally reached the massive greenspace, “Bosques de Palermo.”

The Palermo Forests: Tourists, and tapirs, and maras, oh my!

After years of living life by scooter in Southeast Asia with no mountains to climb, stretching my legs in the city I’d loved from afar felt wonderful. The architecture, the interactions, the sugar laden medialuna pastries nibbled while walking. This little jaunt became even better as we crossed into the Palermo Forests and wandered a bit, partially because I hadn’t looked closely at the map.

I noticed a funny looking large rabbit crossing the path with long legs and the laziest gait I’d ever seen. “Is that a Mara?” I said to myself. Couldn’t be. Maras, these funny looking rabbit-deer only existed in Patagonia. Then it hit me. I’d crossed into the public Buenos Aires eco-park without even realizing it.

Normally, I’m against zoos. Personally, I’d be a little upset if I was trapped in a cage with people staring at me, so I assume most animals feel the same way and I respect that. I have nothing against anyone who goes to the zoo, and actually respect zoos’ roles in educating children and adults on animals, nature and conservation. However, for this reason, I prefer to see my animals in the wild (where they get a fair fight with me if they want it! Not really…) and I never visited the Buenos Aires zoo when I visited Buenos Aires in 2011.

However, apparently, this feeling that the best place for the animals was outside of a zoo was shared by quite a few people – enough to change the minds of the government.

In 2016, the Buenos Aires government closed and nationalized the zoo.

When Mayor Horacio Rodriguez Larreta announced its closure, he stated that the animals were a “treasure” that couldn’t remain in captivity near the noise and pollution and that the city government believed it was no longer acceptable to keep wild animals in captivity. As a result, all of the animals that were healthy enough to be moved safely were relocated to nature preserves across Argentina to live in the wild.

The animals that were either too old or too unhealthy to be moved remained under the care of the city in the newly established, fully open, and free to the public, Buenos Aires Eco Park.

I had accidentally, on my walk, wandered into a mini nature preserve filled with giraffes, mara, peacocks, water buffalo, sea lions, and more. All of whom were clearly treated with the utmost care for the rest of their lives, or until they could be rehomed. Along the same lines, animals were brought in for care and stayed for rehabilitation.

And these mara that could leave but were just lazily standing in my path, I don’t know. They had that look of an animal that got tired of the taking the world’s bullshit, so they just laid down in the grass and never got up. Cute critters though.

During my walk, I saw tour guides (free) speaking to groups of children about the animals on display, making the Saturday experience both fun and educational.

This was awesome.

Just a 10-minute walk away.

Tuckered out from surprise animal overload and 10,000+ steps immediately after an 11-hour flight, it was time to head home.

As we wandered back home a different way, through Palermo Soho and Villa Crespo we were surprised to see a street market in full effect! Though the barrio of Villa Crespo is fairly residential, Palermo Soho has the kind of cobblestone streets, South American hipster charm, and trendy shops that attract plenty of people out for a Saturday walk to an ice cream shop or Shawarma stand. However today, a vibrant and very genuine cultural market was in full swing.

A view of an “average” bookstore and coffee shop in Buenos Aires’ Barrio Norte

**

Vendors chattily sat next to each other under white tents selling artwork, handmade jewelry and dresses, handmade knives, and more along those same cobblestone streets. Just across from them, fun music played as cafes served wine streetside and everyone just enjoyed their Saturday. As tempted as I was to grab a glass of “vino tinto” it was time to head back and unpack, but along the way, we passed three more of these awesome little markets!

Day one in solely the Palermo area of Buenos Aires, and I’d found friendly faces, beautiful greenspaces, every food ingredient I could want for the kitchen, Italian styled enoteca’s with streetside seating for enjoying wine, and a very Italian lifestyle from years past. All in a South American country at the end of the world, “stuck in a crisis.”

Embracing the Past as a Pleasant Present: What Buenos Aires does best

As the days passed during my stay in BsAs, I settled in quickly and naturally. While I’d planned a single month in Buenos Aires assuming the stay would sufficiently satisfy my appetite it became clear I wanted and needed more time before moving on to explore the wine country, the lake districts, and the wilds of Patagonia.

Daily, I woke up, packed my laptop, and simply walked. Each morning, my goal was to find a nice little café to setup and work, but very quickly my purpose tilted towards absorbing the views.

I stopped at a 1920’s New York Style café and smoke room in Recoleta, trimmed with a dark ambiance, light jazz, and a Matre’d.

I stopped in a small corner café which made amazing “Medialuna” pastries, only had 2 seats, and was thoroughly entertaining because the Boomer manager and the Gen Z employee were always arguing about how best to serve Croissants.

I stopped at a café at the corner of two cobblestone streets that were filled by more pedestrians than cars. Hanging green vines covered the three stories of the café whiled the waitress repeatedly asked if I was sure I wanted coffee instead of a glass of wine at 10am on a Monday.

To boot, these were just the cafes that I found so enthralling.

The buildings in the city clearly stretched across eras. Some apartment buildings bearing markings and nameplates from the 1920’s while others were renovated to looked like a modern bar in Milan.

All of this discovery happened between, puppies, tons of puppies, big and small, all well-mannered and matching their owners. It seemed me and Masha were the only people in Buenos Aires that didn’t, each, have a puppy.

Every apartment had a scritch demanding kitty. Every Porteno had a puppy.

Stack this onto the acrobatic street performances, the jazz and live music spilling out from wine bars hidden in alleyways, and the smell of perfectly burned meats pouring out of the many welcoming parrillas fully decorated in old world style, and you have a glimpse of what makes Buenos Aires a pleasure to wander…and live in. Then, imagine all of this happening before 5pm. Once evening hits, and then night hits, you have two completely different worlds.

All accessible by simply walking.

In Bali, life is lived by motorbike, and walking between places often gets funny looks and worried questions. Arguably, even the sidewalks in major parts of the island are ridden on more by mototaxis than walked on by tourists. But after four years of inhaling motorcycle exhaust and almost being run over, or simply never using my feet as a mode of transport, the simple act of spending my mornings wandering in search of a croissant on my own two legs felt natural, and liberating. And a great weigh to counter my new pastry addiction.

If you, like me, come from a car culture like the US, or a “motorbike everywhere” culture like in Bali, I highly recommend intentionally choosing the next place you live in a way that allows you to live by foot or by bicycle. Gym culture and fitness classes as the only possibility to get in shape, and the unhappiness that comes with body that isn’t used naturally all but disappear when you live naturally by using the body you were given, walking or otherwise. This is especially true when everything you need, and want, is an enjoyable walk away.

Argentina is living in the 90’s…and it’s fantastic!

On one of the many wonderful days out walking with Masha, my tiny Russian, she noticed something that triggered a massive insight into why, now particularly, I was loving the Argentine way of life.

No one had their cell phones out.

People clearly owned smart phones, as they used them for rideshare, ordering food, and mapping around town. However, no one had their phones out.

At cafes, people sat and talked with each other, or read an actual book made of real papers, phone in pocket.

In Bosques de Palermo, couples laid on blankets with a picnic in full mellow swing, chatting, and staring at the sky…with no phones out.

Teens sat on park benches chatting, skateboarding, and teasing each other…with no smartphones in sight. Simply engaging with each other in a way that I hadn’t seen in public since before the first iPhone.

Then, I realized it. Argentina was quite literally living in the 90s.

Plus, it was doing so in the best ways possible.

Average Argentines took ample time to be disconnected from the internet, disconnected from their phones, and disconnected from the world, fully disconnected from the world’s opinions of Argentina, what it should be, and what it shouldn’t be.

Turn on the radio, and classic rock, rap, and Argentina hits played, from last century.

Everywhere throughout the city, the pace was leisurely and comfortable on nights and weekends, just as it was before people were expected to take their work home and stay constantly connected to email, working through the night.

Last, the courtesy and manners were old school. Even if “portenos,” the notoriously pretentious locals of the port city of Buenos Aires, have a different pace of life (and level of patience) they still charmingly managed to connect with courtesy, warmth, and genuineness even in the most agitated of interactions.

They still had basic human respect in a way that rarely comes anywhere in the world, at a time when people are comfortable disrespecting each other in the “comments section” of social media, in a way that spills over into the real world.

In a world of faster, quicker, more packaged junk food, swiping relationships, longer work hours, more digital time, and less face time, Argentina was somehow bucking the trend.

Even outside of work and social life, Argentineans were keeping life normal, in a refreshing way.

In the hot summer months, Buenos Aires turns into a ghost town as Argentines disappear to the south aiming to hike in Patagonia and live outside.

Inspect the grocery store and you’ll find simpler foods, tastier, more nutritious than the junk food driving the obesity crisis starting on American grocery store shelves.

Even, peruse social media in Spanish and you’ll find Argentines generally not taking themselves or lives too seriously, more often than not civil and helpful, and laughingly commiserating at the stupid disfunctions (Milei, dilapidated transport) that they hate but don’t let sour them. A comedic resilience with an undercurrent of the charm of a chatty old Italian man or nonna.

While in America I noticed life was simultaneously advancing and becoming more sterile, with more conveniences online and more faces glued to phones as the cost of living skyrocketed, Argentines seemed to (intentionally or not) exist now, in the moment, in the world around them, in way that Americans let through their fingers 20 years ago.

Amidst several declared crises, Argentines in Buenos Aires managed to stay behind the times in technology and productivity and ahead of most Americans on the happiness curve.

My 40^th Birthday: A marathon walked, a glass of wine, and an insight for the decades

As enjoyable as these peaceful activities were, exploring Buenos Aires’ barrios by foot, I couldn’t spend the next 5 months just walking between cafes, wine shops, and parrillas. Well, I could, but I would never make it to Patagonia as planned. So, I had to speed up the process.

My 40^th birthday was coming up. On my 30^th birthday, I decided to run the Austin marathon the night before the race. While I didn’t terribly well, I did finish, and the time trotting gave me time to think about what a horrible decision I’d made on a whim, and the better decisions I could make with the next decade of life. More importantly, after completing the marathon, there was a calming peace that I went into my birthday with. So, to speed up this process of exploring the city by foot, I decided to walk a marathon around Buenos Aires. I was too lazy to run but, hey, at least I was doing something!

On walk day, I laced up my shoes, packed a backpack with a wad of cash, water, and extra socks, and took off. Over the next 7 hours I walked 28 miles from Palermo and Villa Crespo, to Recoleta, to Retiro, to Colegiales, to Belgrano, plus Caballito, Flores, and beyond. Despite pounding the pavement for miles of urban sightseeing, my feet didn’t hurt at all, as I genuinely enjoyed every step of the way and every sight that I saw.

The towering white Obolisco that adorns post cards. The Recoleta Cemetery. The Ateneo Grand Splendid, a theater turned bookstore. I walked the entire “green lung of Buenos Aires” through Bosques de Palermo again. I ended by stopping in a wonderful parrilla (Argentine BBQ restaurant) for what I call a “dinosaur steak” of cross cut short ribs. Then, I walked home. Satisfyingly calling it a pleasant pre birthday.

The 40^th birthday is, seemingly, a big one. Four decades on the planet. Forty years of exploration. Halfway through life. I expected to feel an urge to party, an urge for live music, and an urge to be surrounded by the noise of celebration.

In actuality I woke up, and just wanted a quiet glass of wine, and to collect my thoughts.

I spent a few hours journaling, collecting my thoughts, and brainstorming insights from the last 40 years. Then at 11am, I put on my shoes and walked to the café across from Plaza Armenia, and had a simple glass of red wine. That simple glass of red wine, and the feeling of being in the moment, happy, grateful, and with nothing more I could want were amazing. So amazing that I had another. Then I had one more glass. Then, I had a realization.

I wasn’t leaving Buenos Aires this trip. Buenos Aires, and the experience of living there was the adventure I’d been chasing. Moreso, the experience I’d been wanting was right in front of me – finally living in the first place I’d traveled abroad – and it was living up to my expectations more than anything in recent memory.

Lastly, I had a life changing realization. I was no longer a backpacker, a mere wanderer, or something that could easily be labeled a “digital nomad.” Somewhere along the way, I’d become an expat that lived in multiple homes. A flexible expat, or “flexpat” if you will.

My Realization: I was no longer a backpacker, and no longer a digital nomad

After 60 countries and 1000s of cities traveled, the highest travel pleasure I was now getting from life wasn’t from bouncing quickly from place to place with my life in a backpack, or rooting my existence online while I attempted to exist in a place month to month. Instead, all of that wandering was a series of amazing experiences that I wouldn’t trade for anything and that, most importantly, informed me of the life and lifestyle I wanted to design, by intentionally choosing where I lived.

I knew, for a fact, that I didn’t want to root in a place by working for some large multinational corporation, as most expats do. But I didn’t want half my life to revolve around planning constantly planning the next destination, as I did as a nomad.

I legitimately wanted to make this place, Buenos Aires, home, and be here in now. I legitimately wanted to be able to return to my concrete surf shack in Bali, and charge the waves, then return to my vegetable garden and passionfruit vines. I wanted to spend two weeks at a time recharging in Japan and Thailand and Kuala Lumpur, returning to the same restaurants and views briefly, for an old memory and a new memory. And then, I wanted to repeat it all again.

I was in love with the life, the lifestyle, and the little adventures, that came with making that place temporary home, and I wanted to make that permanent. I wanted to repeat that process around the world. With many homes.

Some people are lucky enough to follow the normal path. Go to university. Get a job. Buy a house near the town they grew up. Have kids. Work. Maybe vacation a couple weeks. Retire. And die.

I’m jealous of those who can live that life and feel fulfilled. I really am.

Unfortunately for me, I realized, something broke along the way.

No sake in the world will match the one that one in Beppu in southern Japan, that is only on the menu because its made “up the road” and they never make enough to export to any other city.

No wave is going to be as good as that massive dry season surf session, that happens because of a storm near the Antarctic sending a massive wall of water toward Bali with nothing to slow it down, and that waves shows up 5 minutes away, scary as shit, challenging you for a ride…you just have to show up.

No steak is going to taste as good as the one that old man at the Parrilla makes, chatting your ear off and pouring wine for you because you’re the only one there before the evening rush.

No social warmth matches being connected with clusters of nomadic friends spread across the world, constantly passing through a handful of “home” cities.

That was the realization.

There were too many great things in life. I wanted them all. I could have them all. It was time to slow down and do less, but do it better. To build stable foundations in the places that had clutched my heart, impassioned with the experiences and tastes that made me feel alive. It was all possible, but with a new more deliberate approach to living abroad.

I no longer had a desire to be a backpacker, bouncing quickly, aimlessly, and endlessly.

I no longer desired to be a “digital nomad,” living life one month and one city at a time, half of which was online.

I was an expat, not for the work, but for the lifestyle. Flexibly dancing between multiple homes. A “Flexpat.”

In Bali, I rarely traveled anymore in Bali. I surfed in the water that was warmer and more welcoming than in my “old home” of San Diego. In between, I ran on the beach, I read, and I wrote.

In Chiang Mai, Thailand, I’d returned to the same neighborhood 10 different times over the years, greeted by the same aunties selling mangos, and the same couple selling Khao Pad Kai with a little extra egg.

I’d returned to the same corner in Kyoto more than once, three blocks up from the tiny one-man restaurant that was the passion project of a genius sommelier that bucked the trend to start cooking on his own.

And I knew I would never be able to live in the US again because this, these elements that I return to as staples in my life, would never be possible in the US.

I was an flexpat, returning to a few small corners of the world because of the life and lifestyle it adds up to.

Yes, I still need to visit Sarawak, and Pokhara, and Siargao, and Hong Kong, and China, and Mongolia, and every other place on my list. I am still a traveler and I will travel, but in between, I’m an immigrant that lives between a small handful of countries that add up to my perfect life.

So, on my 40^th birthday I grew out of being a backpacker and digital nomad, and became a “Flexpat.”

I would not force myself to leave Buenos Aires, which I’d fallen in love with. I would make Argentina one of my three homes. And the next stage of planning would be to discover my homes, or the countries I would build homes in as a flexpat, staying abroad purely for the lifestyle.**

My 40^th birthday was an amazing birthday, as Buenos Aires gave me the gift (insight) I’d been searching 40 years for: The insight into how I can piece together the knowledge from my adventures to craft the perfect life for the next decade.

Interested in what a “Flexpat” is? Click here to read **

Every paradise has its flaws, and Argentina is no exception. Here’s how…

For all of Buenos Aires allure and pleasantries, even the most beautiful of destinations are imperfect.

With all of this optimism, it has to be impossible that any destination is all roses and candy, right? If you believe this, then you are, right.

As a 7-year nomad, and a forever expat I’ve learned that it will be impossible to truly make a place your home, fully embracing the culture and embracing the new home as content through sweet and sour, unless you become intentionally aware of its imperfections. Moreso, for the sake of your long-term plan, you need to get honest with yourself about whether you can, on average, happily live with these imperfections.

Life in Argentina did absolutely have interesting hurdles. Oddly, do you remember that second duffle bag of brand name goods I brought from the US? I didn’t use a single item from that bag.

However, that stack of over $9k in cash? I absolutely used that! Well, part of it anyways

You see, with Argentina’s insane inflation rates at ~700 Argentine Pesos per dollar and the blue market rate at ~1500 Argentine Pesos per US dollar, holding cash in ARS was a horrible idea. The currency moved so much between days, you could lose 25% buying power in a single week if you were holding Argentine Pesos at the wrong time.

What did make sense was holding cash in USD, or crypto, which was a great idea! What many of the news outlets failed to report is that most Argentines were taking their salary, as soon as they received it, and converting it into Bitcoin to “lock in” value. When they needed the money, they would contact “arbolitos” (little trees, also called little caves) which were black market currency exchange locations that traded pesos for dollar or crypto at a fair rate according to the international market.

Don’t get me wrong, many Argentines were suffering due to the economic chaos and instability. But many were also thinking innovatively to work around the government that wasn’t serving their interests the way they needed.

Just like the Argentines, every few days I brought a few crisp $100 bills to exchange for a stack of Argentine Pesos, and I was allowed to live as if the inflation and economic crisis didn’t exist.

In exchange for this forethought and planning, and willingness to adapt to the financial situation, our cost of living for 3 months in Argentina was ~$2,500 cash, and ~$2000 for overpriced AirBnBs.

Life in Argentina, for those pleasant 3 months broke down to ~$1500 per month for living expenses for 1 person and accommodation for 2 people.

The lesson from this is, when the news is over reporting a crisis in a place that could be a potential home for you, ditch the tourist mindset and figure out how the locals make things happen. You might find a diamond buried in that lump of coal.

Mosquitoes and Flooding try to dampen our spirits

Beyond this crazy financial crisis there were plenty of wild occurrences.

For roughly two weeks, a swarm of mosquitoes overtook the city! It was insane! As I walked through the park one Friday, shopping for eggs at a market, I noticed a little white dog with muddy spots. But then, I realized the muddy spots were actually massive clusters of mosquitoes stuck to the dog. As I sat there feeling sorry for the pup, Masha pointed out, those same mosquitoes were covering my pant legs!

From then on, for the next two weeks, we limited being outside. We only went to restaurants and grocery stores nearby, and sprayed the inside of our house with mosquito spray. Luckily, the city of Buenos Aires immediately started an information campaign to warn against dengue while spraying the entire town for mosquitoes. As well, restaurants and cafes took measures that ensured the problem of mosquitoes didn’t ruing the dining experience.

At the end I was shocked to hear that this actually happens once every two to three years! I hate mosquitoes!

Shortly after the plague of mosquitoes, a heavy rainy season started, so bad that it overloaded Buenos Aires’ dilapidated drainage system. As a result, parts of the town flooded, similar to what I saw around Chiang Mai, Thailand in the rainy season.

In each case, Masha and I did our research to figure out how out of the ordinary this inconvenience was, see what actions we could take to still live our happy lives (stock up on food and wine while we prep the Netflix watch list), and ultimately decide if these crazy experiences were something we’d be willing to tolerate without complaint in order to experience the rest of what the city had to offer.

Our verdict: Buenos Aires and Argentina in all their beauty were allowed to have a few imperfections to keep some of the tourists away.

Lesson: There will be no perfect destinations, but there will be perfect destinations for you if you approach with the mind state

Poverty absolutely exists but Argentines don’t let that slow down daily life, or the enjoyment of it

Despite the overall tone of my story, that Argentina is a wonderful place that is being misreported on, there is still absolutely poverty, just like any other country, except it is happening at a higher rate than normal. Sit at a café, in Palermo, Villa Crespo, or Belgrano long enough and you will see impromptu street vendors coming by and offering socks for sale or hats for sale, and ending with the extremely polite request to take food from your plate that you won’t eat.

In this, if you are ever there, I’d like you to appreciate two things, and take on a third task.

My request of travelers, nomads, and expats aiming for Argentina

First, notice how the Argentines of means treat those that in these rough times are clearly lacking.

Look closely enough and you will see that no one in need is every dismissed rudely. Often, you will see things purchased, that aren’t necessarily needed, to help those in need gain a few pesos, feel like a human that is still part of society, and allow them to maintain self-respect.

You will also notice that in the places where Argentines actually live, you rarely if ever see beggars, just these street salesmen. So, to help the situation, be generous in supporting those that are trying to find a way, and don’t be scared to buy an extra meal in a takeout box to share with someone in need. The amount that these actions will cost you versus the good it will propagate make the generosity a fantastic risk to take in a place that will award you with an irreplaceable experience, if you let it and if you embrace it.

Second, venture outside of the “Barrio Norte” bubble. Go into the north an hours’ train ride away, or even into working class cities like Rosario or the outskirts of Cordoba. There you will undoubtedly see that though the wealth isn’t deep, the culture that makes Argentina a wonderful place is. Listen to the music. Watch them dance. Drink the wine. Hear their stories. Soak that up as an equal Argentina, in the poorer parts. Then, return back to whatever home you choose with the intention not to gentrify this and turn it into something else. In that you’ll realize what Argentina really is, and in that, an appreciation for it without hacking it or exploiting it.

Last, give.

I saw a wonderful practice in Buenos Aires that took me two months to understand, with the help of the tiny Russian. As most apartment buildings in the city are locked with call boxes to apartments to keep them secure, sometimes people in need will ring apartments asking if there is anything “extra” or “leftover” that they would like to donate. Not necessarily cash or food, but think, unused clothes, unused appliances, even books that can, instead of being thrown away, be repurposed. If you have food to offer, that’s fantastic, but I never saw these people turn away anything given. I always saw their manner as gracious, polite, and thankful. And, once I understood it, I loved that practice.

At the end of the third month in Buenos Aires, before we unfortunately had to leave, I realized that giving was the solution for the second duffle bag. I’d wasted the opportunity of giving to someone going door to door, so I setup a blanket in front of my AirBnB apartment building and spread everything across it with a sign saying, “Gratis!!” (free). After a few skeptical looks followed by a look of approval and confirmation from me, passersby took the shirts, pants, socks, electronics, and fitness equipment strewn out. A clearly homeless, but jovial, fella took my beanie, put it on, and delivered a thumbs up and a smile as he walked off.

A teenage boy passed the blanket staring at some “over the ears” blue tooth headphones I’d laid out. “Hey amigo, quieres esto?” (Hey buddy, do you want this?) I said in broken Spanish. “No tengo plata,” (I don’t have any money) he replied. So, I tossed him the headphones, then the charging wires, and watched confusion dissolve into an ear to ear grin followed by “thank you’s”.

I was happier with a lighter bag. I assume most of the people that passed weren’t on hard times, but if they were, maybe they got what they needed to stay warm or work online a little easier.

So, point three is, be aware of the poverty and the opportunity to give (like I unfortunately wasn’t) and give where you have the honest opportunity. Live down there in Argentina long enough and you’ll see they’ve survived decades of economic crisis by embracing their humanity and, with zero flashiness, being responsible human beings. Follow their lead and you’ll help the situation and leave better from the experience. This opportunity applies wherever you are in the world.

Be aware of your privilege and the risks of gentrification in the process, and be conscious of appreciating a place for what it is instead of what you want to turn it into.

Roughly half of the “nomad hubs” I’ve visited started as such due to a low cost of living within an underrated place with an amazing quality of life. Chiang Mai, Hanoi, Kuala Lumpur, and Siargao come to mind. However, some of those beautiful places were undercut by human greed, and the cultural laziness that accompanies wanting to change the very nature of the destination to fit your Instagram fantasies – Bali, Tulum, and Costa Rica come to mind immediately as spoiled destinations, where the tide of fame washed out the culture and authenticity that originally made the places beautiful.

Though Argentina’s remoteness is a saving grace preventing the tourist overrun that Lisbon and Barcelona have experienced, and the strong opinions and cultural values of Argentines will quickly defend against “cultural whitewashing,” I still ask that if this story inspires you to visit, be a responsible nomad or aspiring expat.

Learn to love Buenos Aires and Argentina, or any destination you visit, for what they are, embracing their flaws to an extent, with no intention to “hack” the next great destination or use it as a scummy path to wealth.

Perhaps, move into that building with classical architecture and the veggie shop downstairs, and renovate in modern taste, but do so for yourself as a second home as you dive into the Porteno lifestyle.

Don’t bring the faux Mediterranean style cafes of Canggu or the piled-on spiritualism from Tulum, blazing a path that will be followed by commercial gentrification. Instead, just come with your bag and your curiosity, and embrace the adventure Argentina hands you. True to the wanderer’s path.

The Elephant in the Room: Political risk and how the future will be shaped by Argentina’s eccentric president

I’d be remised if I didn’t talk about the current political situation with the now renowned Javier Milei, president of Argentina.

Yes, you are right, this man is an eccentric, with his chainsaw and cloned dogs and attempted punk rock star persona.

Yes, Milei has libertarian policies he’s attempting to enact that destroy some of the institutions (education, arts, and culture) that have made Argentina such a culturally rich place.

Lastly, yes, he is a risk.

But I’ll follow this up with a simple fact that, no one (no sane person) is happy with their national leadership, or what is happening on the world stage right now.

My own country, the US, was battling between presidential candidates wherein our top picks were a convicted felon and a man with seemingly onsetting Alzheimer who could barely talk his way out of paper bag. This is happening while a war continues in Ukraine, and a war is expanding in Israel, Palestine, Lebanon, and threatening to include Iran. In the US, a housing cost of living crisis put the cost of my mediocre AirBnB rental in Dallas, Texas at $3,000 per month, and school shootings have most families on edge. The US recently withdrew from Afghanistan and declared the end to the Iraq war, while US troops still remain in Iraq and Syria. All while Europe is experiencing an ultra conservative tide shift that is leaning Nazi and making Libertarian budget cuts seem like a much smaller threat to humanity.

Suffice it to say that though Milei is a wildcard, who has actually reduced Argentina’s inflation drastically for the first time in decades and is threatening to shut down some of Argentina’s valuable cultural and educational institutions, many of the world powers are, in my opinion, leaning far worse right now with more horrible potential outcomes.

The difference I see is that, as a result of living through decades of economic crisis, Argentines have learned how to and are managing to live healthy, “normal” lives through the crisis with a resilience I have yet to see in North America and Europe. Plus, the risks and potential outcomes in Argentina, due to Milei, are far less violent and life threatening than what is on the US’s agenda and Europe’s doorstep.

The Realization: Whoever is in charge always sucks, and the people will find a way around it. As a nomad, choose a place wherein you are truly aware of the downsides, and can find a livable, long-term solution to living with them.

Second Realization: The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. Be conscious of the risks that come with the potential home you choose, and then choose wisely.

The End Too Soon: Paperwork becomes the death (or delay) of dreams

“You don’t have the right paperwork, and it will need to be translated from Indonesian to Spanish. We don’t have Indonesian translators here in Buenos Aires,” our immigration lawyer said.

I wish I could say I was shocked as I heard the definitive reason why we wouldn’t be able to apply for Argentine Permanent Residency this trip, but I somewhat expected this.

Argentina is a place with heavy European influence, in the architecture, the food, and, unfortunately, the legal processes. In this case, that Italian style bureaucracy smacked us with a long list of paperwork requirements for us to apply for the “Argentine Rentista Visa.”

The Argentine Rentista visa is a welcoming and valuable residency in Argentina, easier and more accessible than any other permanent residency on the planet, and was the primary goal of this trip. As long as you could, at the time, demonstrate $1500 per month of verifiable, legally acquired passive income in an asset that you can prove you own, Argentina will grant you a 2-year temporary residency, renewable as long as you can continue to verify the income.

Even better, after that initial 2 years, you have the option, as long as you’ve paid your taxes and learned Spanish, to apply for Argentine citizenship and an Argentine Passport. No other country on the planet has such a welcoming immigration process, and it just so happens to be in the country of my dreams.

Unfortunately, the documents proving our rental income from the house in Bali (~$3,000 per month) were all in Indonesian. There were no official translators of Indonesian to Spanish in all of Buenos Aires. The only solution was to return to Indonesia, have the original documents in my hand officially translated from Indonesian to English, then apostilled, then transported to Argentina and translated from English to Spanish.

At the same time, the rental situation for our villa in Bali started to slip. Little things were breaking on the house that were clearly driving the villa manager crazy, while the villa marketing team seemed to be less and less effective with a month long vacancy. Though all of these problems were solvable, and I truly wanted to spend 6 months in Argentina, the path of least resistance pointed to returning to Bali to patch up the house, assess the real estate market, and look into options for renting out more efficiently or selling.

Additionally, our 3-month tourist visa in Argentina was coming to a close, and our hopes for a long-term visa this trip just got much more complicated.

All signs were pointing to a path I didn’t want.

Abandoning the plan to visit Patagonia and explore surf spots in Chile and Argentina.

Leaving Buenos Aires early.

Returning to Bali.

Shit.

But…not quite shit.

I was content. I felt at peace with the new plan that had just condensed before me. Something changed.

I came to South America to search for adventure and return to travel in Argentina. Instead, I just lived in Buenos Aires for three months, wandering through daily life, and I was perfectly satisfied with the experience.

Weird.

Something changed, in me. As a traveler

The Adventure of “Finding Home” as a Flexpat

I realized that, for this trip in Buenos Aires, the adventure wasn’t running around Argentina, or climbing through Patagonia, or trekking in San Carlos de Bariloche. I’d already done that. I’d already hiked in the Himalayas, and shook hands with wild elephants, and surfed enormous swells in Indonesia. I’d motorbiked the Ho Chi Minh trail, and walked from the Pyramids of Giza to Cairo. For the last 7 years, my life had been solely these kinds of adventures.

However, this adventure, the adventure I just realized I’d been on for the last few months, was different.

The adventure was living in a new home. Transitioning from backpacker and digital nomad, to lifestyle expat. The adventure was realizing that I was scarred as a permanent traveler, I’d never be able to happily go back “home” to the US, but I direly needed to find (and make) a home where my heart felt content and settled. Or a few. I still needed to walk marathons through new places, and find new mountains to climb, and seek out new cultures, but I needed to do that in between living a balanced life in a few “homes” around the world.

The scary thing is, even though I realized that, I had no idea what it meant or how I did it.

I just knew that this adventure, that I just realized I was reaching the end of, was the experience of finding my home in Argentina, and learning I’d grown through to a new stage of life as a global citizen. A slowmad, lifestyle expat, a flexpat. Now, on to figure out what that all means.

My Realization of the Flexpat Lifestyle

Most people are lucky enough to experience a vacation abroad, spending two glossy and perfect weeks in paradise, before returning home to the grind as they wait 50 weeks for their next chance to escape.

A handful of people give in to a deeper wanderlust, packing a backpack and quitting everything to wander the world for a few months to a year, tasting the experiences, cultures, and foods the world has to offer.

An even smaller few, as a result of the information age, the internet, and post pandemic acceptance of remote working, gig work, and outsourcing, have hacked life to become “digital nomads” deriving income from online work that allows them to live around the world bouncing from city to city.

But evolution never stops, even within these anthropological groups.

I noticed that in recent years, many of those fast moving, globetrotting digital nomads had slowed down, often settling in a place that they uniquely connected with. Yes, they would travel and explore as wanderlust drives us to do, but they returned back to their own emerging “home.”

Canggu and Uluwatu, Bali. Chiang Mai. Hanoi. Hua Hin. Tulum. Puerto Escondido. Medellin. Santa Marta. Da Nang. These places were transitioning from nomad hubs where nomads frequently passed through to being nomad homebases where nomads were increasingly setting up roots.

Within my group of digital nomad friends, the gig workers were burning out and either returning to their home country, or finding asynchronous and offline work. They were growing tired of being alone, and were now actively cultivating communities they would return to for happy hours, board game nights, and emotional support. They were renting homes long term, or buying homes, in emerging destinations that they knew they would come back to. Most notably, they were slowing down.

They were digital nomads that were increasingly taking their lives offline and connecting with the place they lived, but weren’t working with multi-national companies or employed by local businesses. They were getting long term visas, residencies, and new passports, and using this to live in the place that suited their preferences in life and still allowed the travel that originally lured them abroad.

These former backpackers and fast-moving digital nomads were becoming settled expats for the lifestyle, not the work.

That’s what they’d become. That’s what I’d become.

In the past 5 years, a perfect storm of wanderlust and the opportunity to earn while traveling and eventually finding paradise somewhere, countered by housing, cost of living, and political crises in nomads’ homes around the world gave rise to a whole new type of wanderer, sloe traveler, and global citizen.

Want to learn more about this new trend?

Read more: What is a “Flexpat?”**

The Next Adventure: Going home…but first wine

As we both left the immigration lawyer’s office, plans dashed, it was time to piece together a new approach to our time in South America.

“What next?” She asked.

“Hmmm…how about wine?” I replied.

And with a few quick sentences, life changed direction.

We would pack our bags and end our stay in Argentina, making our way to check out Mendoza, an underrated land of wine dotted with Michelin star restaurants. A hidden gem that few norteamericanos will ever experience, unfortunately, but I love deeply.

I had a business proposal tucked in my emails sent from a friend years prior that pitched an agrotourismo, nomad village, and “time capsule” tucked between grape vines at the base of the Andes. This village was envisioned as a place you could disappear to in order to spend a month getting back in touch with your senses (thanks to world class food and wine), getting back in touch with your strength, and making forward progress in a place that allowed you to truly live.

All in Mendoza, Argentina.

Amidst the wine experience, feeling out the possibility of this other dream of mine was on our path forward.

Maybe all things do happen for a reason.

We would see.

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