out of office - thoughts from my first solo trip
would i go again? i wonder.
Over 11 to 24 November, I went to Buenos Aires, Argentina, initially for a conference surrounding insurance cooperatives and mutuals, and then for my first ever international solo trip.
Between the business class flights and absurd amounts of steak, to the international insights and being the boss of my own itinerary, to the criminal awkwardness of attending a tango show by myself and only knowing how to count to six (thanks Dora) - it was by all means, a spectacular trip.
On the flight back, I jotted down a few bullet points to mull in my subconscious as to what I had learnt from the solo trip part of my travels - and here I am, a month after returning and my thoughts, frankly, have remained broadly the same.
Have the audacity to try
A thought that was first planted during the CEO Roundtable Discussion with Jan Kamp Justesen (CEO of LB Forsikring in Denmark) and reinforced throughout the inspiring stories and the myriad interactions I had throughout the conference - my personalised takeaway from the 2024 Biennial ICMIF Conference and contribution to the post-it board is:
“You’ll never know where you’ll end up - have the audacity to TRY.”
It’s the idea that while there are monumental turning points like a post hitting the marks of virality or closing out a 10-million-dollar deal, these moments are culminated through the actions we take every day.
It’s the idea that the figures on the big stage had no idea they would end up there, especially early in their career, and it’s through the choices they’ve made, the good work they’ve done and a sprinkle of fortune that they’re able to walk those steps.
It’s the idea that you’ll never know who or what will influence your next career move, set off a cataclysmic mindset shift or utterly divert the course of your life.
We can manifest, we can strategise, we can chalk it up to coincidence - but we cannot be 100% ready when these opportunities come.
I do think we can be open-minded about them.
That’s what I want for myself.
To have the audacity to try.
You can read more about my interview with Jan here.
Solo trips are nice but I wouldn’t gun for them
At Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay, I had a chat with Lynn, a traveler from the US who had spent the last ten months traveling the world and is currently on her Latin American leg (yesterday, Argentina, the day before, Peru, a little before that, Brazil).
I asked about her travel experiences so naturally, the question came to whether I was a frequent traveler too.
No, I’m not.
Though I suppose as someone who self-proclaimedly “doesn’t do much traveling”, I’ve done a fair amount of it this year (Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Colonia, Perth and a handful of road trips around New South Wales).
For a bit, I was worried about falling into the camp of blokes with a wife, kids and a mortgage — thinking he should have done travel when he had less commitments, was more able-bodied and didn’t have his finances tied down to a property 35 kilometres away from the CBD. It’s an activity that hardly anyone regrets.
I wondered, hoped even, that this Buenos Aires trip would be the one to make me fall in love with traveling; of checked baggage, high speed trains, foods I cannot pronounce and a refrigerator filled with magnets from around the world.
Unfortunately, it hasn’t clicked with me yet.
It’s nice. It’s fun. It’s definitely something I’d irregularly do with the right people.
But as for solo travel? I don’t know.
I don’t think I derived the level of joy and self-discovery that I thought I would, though I suppose I was asking for a lot from a country with 300% inflation that really, isn’t all that different from any other big city.
I wouldn’t mind being an expat/digital nomad
While I don’t think I’d be happy with a perpetual state of holiday, I would be happy to relocate to a different country (temporarily) for work experience.
By this, I broadly mean the following:
Working for an international company in Australia and relocating to a different country for an exchange program of sorts.
Having a remote job, preferably with a strong currency, that does not require me being in that specific country.
Running a business of some kind which does not require me at a certain physical location.
Call me brainwashed but I’ve got a minor infatuation with creating financial independence, such that my limited hours can be spent on things that truly matter in life; health, passions, time with loved ones.
Now that I mention it, I suppose that conflicts with being an expat. Being an expat usually puts a pause on the financial independence pipeline in favour of international experience and personal growth.
The point is, I kinda want both, and acknowledge that this idealised outcome is my third bullet point. High risk, high reward. Extraordinary effort to create an extraordinary life.
Not sure where I’m going with this point. It’s just the fact that I wouldn’t be against leading a not-so-traditional life, just for a bit.
The life I want is already here
At the lobby of Selina Palermo Soho, the backpacker hotel where I stayed at, had the above (and repeated below) sign in vibrant, glimmering LED.
“You are exactly where you need to be.”
Since I didn’t have anyone to speak to, I did a lot of unconscious people watching during my time in Buenos Aires.
In the Selina co-working space, at any time of day, there were people on their laptops doing all kinds of things: typing up a document, researching places to go, upskilling through online courses, literally anything.
And across my coffee shop visits, I saw presumably WFH office staff taking Zoom meetings, running accounting software and writing code; university students cramming/procrastinating for their finals; older folk letting time travel through journaling, sketching and crossword puzzles.
Somehow, I felt home.
Where is weird because I wasn’t home and literally none of these people were too - we were at a coffee shop or backpacker accommodation. We weren’t even doing the same thing and none of us were talking to each other.
For some reason, the image of an orchestra comes to mind. We’re all playing our little experiences, some being the same as others (like violinists or the choir) and some in localised groups (like woodwind players) but altogether, as if led by an invisible conductor, we were playing the same song - the song of being human in a shared space, of being exactly where we’re meant to be.
It felt nice. Very nice, in fact.
But thinking about it again I realise that this feeling of unwritten community is completely unrelated to being in Buenos Aires nor being on vacation - that there is nothing whatsoever stopping me from experiencing that thread of togetherness back home in Australia.
Okay fine, there are a few obstacles to it like my corporate job, the need for sleep and all of life’s administrative responsibilities - but a lot of the daily actions which I associate to a fulfilling life, to a sense of humans doing human things; quality time, scrumptious food, excellent coffee, morning walks with mild and forgiving weather, pockets of time for mindless and meaningful consumption, wells of time to immerse yourself into creative projects… all of that, my guy, is right outside your doorstep.
It’s a privilege like no other.
As a fairly healthy man in his twenties, living in a first world country and having no dependents for the most part, everything I need is a singular action away.
I am exactly where I need to be.
The life I want is already here.
And all I have to do is act upon it.