
TL;DR
After a year of travelling full-time, I’ve learned that rigid routines can quietly become excuses, flexibility beats optimisation, backup plans are non-negotiable, and writing doesn’t require perfect conditions. Life on the road hasn’t disrupted my work – it’s reshaped how I think about doing it.
This article is based on my direct experience writing while travelling full-time for twelve months.
A Year Without a Fixed Base
Twelve months ago, I stopped living in one place and started moving between many. Since then, my “office” has been whatever space happened to be available – borrowed kitchens, spare rooms, cafés, quiet corners, and occasionally nowhere ideal at all.
Living this way has a habit of stripping things back. You quickly find out which habits matter, which ones were convenient, and which ones were never essential in the first place. As a writer, that process has been both uncomfortable and clarifying.
These are the most useful things I’ve learned so far.
Learning 1: Routines Help – Until They Become an Excuse

I used to believe I needed very specific conditions to write well. Morning hours. A familiar space. A predictable rhythm.
On the road, those conditions rarely line up. If I waited for them, nothing would get done.
Instead, I learned to write whenever time appeared. Sometimes that’s still early in the day.
More often, it’s in short bursts – ten minutes here, half an hour there. During afternoons when places close. Late at night when the day finally goes quiet.
The biggest shift wasn’t logistical. It was mental. I stopped treating routine as a requirement and started treating it as a preference.
Learning 2: Always Assume Something Will Go Wrong
Travel introduces friction into everything. Internet drops. Power cuts happen. Plans change without warning.
The solution isn’t frustration – it’s preparation.
I now assume at least one part of my setup will fail on any given day. That means:
- Offline access to files
- Multiple ways to connect
- A clear list of low-energy tasks for disrupted days
Having a backup plan isn’t about expecting failure. It’s about staying functional when conditions aren’t ideal.
Learning 3: Productivity Isn't Just Output
Some weeks on the road are highly productive. Others aren’t. Travel days, unfamiliar environments, and constant adjustment all take a toll.
What changed for me was how I define productive work.
Thinking time counts. Observing counts. Rest counts. Many ideas surface when I’m not actively trying to produce anything – walking through a new place, sitting somewhere unfamiliar, paying attention.
Not all progress is visible immediately, but it still shapes the work.
Final Thoughts: Writing Without Ideal Conditions
After twelve months on the road, I don’t romanticise this lifestyle. It’s harder than staying put. It’s messier. It’s less predictable.
But it’s also taught me how little I actually need to do meaningful work.
I write now without waiting for permission – from routine, location, or circumstances. And that lesson will stay with me long after the road eventually ends.
