Seven years ago we bought a one-way ticket to Chiang Mai, packed a single 40-liter bag, and told ourselves we’d sort out the work part when we landed. We did sort it out, eventually, but we burned through two months of savings and three temporary apartments learning things the hard way. Now we move to a new city three or four times a year, and the process is boring in the best possible sense. This is the digital nomad advice we wish someone had handed us on day one.
Settle Before You Sightsee
The first time we moved abroad, we spent our first week sprinting between temples, night markets, and coworking tours. By Thursday we had seen a lot and understood nothing. We didn’t know where to buy groceries, which pharmacy stayed open late, or which street felt safe after dark.
Now we treat the first three days like moving into a real home rather than like a vacation. Day one is a slow walk within a one-kilometer radius of wherever we’re staying. We find a supermarket, a pharmacy, a cafe that opens before eight, and a green space. Day two is for practical errands — a local SIM card, a transit card, figuring out how the laundry works. Day three is when we finally let ourselves be a tourist.
It sounds slow, and it is, but it saves us weeks of low-grade stress later. The honest catch: this only works if you’re staying at least a month. If you’re somewhere for five days, skip all of it and just enjoy the place. Trying to “settle” into a five-day stop is a waste of a short trip.
Find Your Workspace Before Your Apartment
We used to book apartments based on how nice the photos looked, then spend our mornings wandering for a place to actually work. That’s backwards. Your apartment is where you sleep. Your workspace is where you’ll spend eight focused hours a day, five days a week. It deserves to come first.
So we now scout workspaces before we commit to housing. We look for places with stable internet — we test a video call, not just a speed test, because a connection that streams fine can still drop calls. We check that the seating won’t wreck our back, and that the noise level keeps us from feeling isolated without making it impossible to think. Then we book a place within walking distance of whatever we picked.
One concrete number we hold ourselves to: no more than a 15-minute walk to our workspace. Anything longer, and we notice ourselves finding excuses to skip it and work from the couch, which is where our productivity quietly dies. It’s a small rule that pays for itself every single week.
Time Zones Will Win Unless You Set Rules
For three years we worked with a team nine hours ahead of us, and we tried to be available on their schedule. We checked Slack at 11 p.m., answered emails from bed, and told ourselves we were being flexible. We were actually just always half-working and never fully resting.
The fix turned out to be embarrassingly simple. We set two hard blocks: mornings for deep work in our own time zone, and one late-afternoon window for calls and overlap with the team. We told our clients exactly when we’d be online, wrote it in our email signature, and stuck to it. Nobody pushed back. Most people don’t need you at all hours — they just want to know when they can reach you.
Here’s the part nobody warns you about: the danger isn’t the time zone math. It’s the slow drift where “one quick call tonight” quietly becomes every night. Protect your mornings, or you’ll wake up one month in with no mornings left.
The Loneliness Shows Up in Week Two
The first week in a new city runs on adrenaline — everything is new, and your phone is full of messages from people asking how it’s going. Then week two arrives and it’s suddenly quiet, and you realize you haven’t had a real conversation with anyone in days.
This hit us hardest in our second year, in a city where we didn’t speak the language. We’d go entire days where our only spoken words were to a barista.
The things that actually helped: a weekly routine with other people in it, like a language class or a running group that meets on the same night every week. Not networking events — those drain us. Small, repeated gatherings where you see the same faces. It takes about three weeks of showing up before people start to recognize you, and that’s fine.
We’ll be honest here: if you need deep friendships quickly, moving constantly will frustrate you. Slow travel gives you rhythms and acquaintances, not instant best friends. Knowing the difference up front saves a lot of quiet heartache.