Walk a Mile in My Shoes
"Oh, that is my dream! It must be nice to have all that free time and money and no responsibilities — just riding around a bit on a Vespa taking a few pictures. He probably has good sponsors. If you are famous it is easy."
I get this comment regularly. In various forms, with varying levels of passive aggression, sometimes with a smiley face that does not quite reach the eyes. Let's have a look at it, shall we?
The Time Problem
I have 24 hours a day. 365 days a year. Approximately 4,000 weeks to live.
Exactly like you.
I do not have more time than anyone else. I have different priorities. That is not the same thing, and confusing the two is the source of a lot of unnecessary resentment.
The Money Problem
I am not rich. I have no house. No fancy clothes. No investment portfolio sitting quietly in the background making me comfortable. I own a few Vespas — which, let's be honest, is both my greatest asset and my most questionable financial decision.
What I do not have: a mortgage, a new car, a garden that needs maintaining, memberships in three clubs, a dog that needs walking at 7am in the rain, or any of the other perfectly reasonable things that cost both money and time in ways that accumulate quietly until one day you look up and wonder where the decade went.
The comment about free time and money often comes from people who have a nice home, a big car, two children, a dog, a cat, and three club memberships — and they want my life and freedom on top of all of that, like the cream on the pie. That is not how it works. It was never going to be how it works.
The Responsibility Problem
Responsibilities are, more often than not, chosen.
Yes — some people have sick parents they did not choose. Some had children they did not plan. Life is messy and complicated and I am not dismissing any of that. But the majority of the responsibilities that make people feel stuck? Decisions. Made at some point, by them, for reasons that made sense at the time.
I decided not to have children. I decided not to buy a house. I decided to quit jobs, give up apartments, ride into the unknown on machines that had no business being there. Those were my decisions. The consequences — good and uncomfortable — are mine too.
The Sponsors Problem
"He probably has good sponsors."
I have reached over 2.1 million people on my Facebook pages in the last 90 days alone.
I do not have sponsors.
Finding sponsors when you are an independent creator with no PR agency, no management, and no famous face from television is — and I say this with the calm of someone who has tried — basically impossible. The brands that should be knocking on my door are busy paying influencers with ring lights and rented Lamborghinis to look adventurous in a car park somewhere.
The Fame Problem
I do not feel famous. I created a name for myself over thirteen years, several hundred thousand kilometres, and more nights sleeping in genuinely horrible places than I care to count. Rats. Wet tents. Truck stop parking lots next to bins that smelled of things I would rather not describe. Repaired engines on the side of roads in the dark. Pushed through heat and snow and the specific misery of a headwind on a 50cc scooter with no windscreen.
That is the dream. Right there. Arrive at it the same way and we can talk about how easy it is.
The Invitation
If you think riding around and taking a few pictures is easy — I genuinely, sincerely invite you to try.
Not sarcastically. I love watching other people do things and succeed. The world needs more of it and less of the commenting-from-the-sofa variety of living.
I love what I do on most days. Not all days. Some days the rain is sideways and the engine is making a sound I do not recognise and the next town is 80 kilometres away and my phone has 4% battery. Those days exist too. They just do not photograph as well.
Less talking. Less jealousy. More riding and doing.
Ride. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
Frequently Asked Questions
How do you finance your travels? Carefully, creatively, and with significantly lower living costs than most people assume are the minimum. No house, no car, no pet, minimal stuff. The money that goes elsewhere for most people goes towards fuel, repairs and the occasional mechanic who speaks no language I speak but understands the problem immediately.
Don't you get lonely? Occasionally. Then someone invites me for coffee in Kansas or puts me up on a yacht in Copenhagen and I remember why I do this.
What would you say to someone who wants to travel but feels stuck? Figure out what you are actually stuck behind. Some of it will be genuine. A lot of it will be decisions dressed up as circumstances. Be honest with yourself about which is which. Then start small and start now.
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