Not Here for the Weekend: Why Digital Nomads Deserve Better than the Blame
They’re not tourists, they’re not colonisers. They’re just looking for a place to stay, work, and maybe belong. Europe’s small towns might be the answer—if they’re ready.
There’s a strange paradox in how digital nomads are perceived today. On the one hand, they're celebrated in airport ads, targeted by government incentives, and welcomed in online forums by mayors looking for a PR boost. On the other, they’re increasingly accused of ruining the places they visit—driving up rents, gentrifying neighbourhoods, and threatening local culture.
The truth, as usual, sits in between. But let’s start with something simple.
Most digital nomads are not here to party. They’re not “doing Europe” on a 10-day interrail ticket or snapping selfies in front of Neuschwanstein. They’re working—often 40 to 60 hours a week, from a laptop, with decent WiFi and a quiet place to focus. That’s it. And yet, they’re often treated as a problem. Why?
Because we still confuse them with tourists.
A shift in movement, not motivation
Remote work didn’t invent the urge to move—it simply made it viable. The pandemic proved that offices were optional. A laptop and a Zoom link were enough for millions to realise that they didn’t need to be stuck in commuter hell, paying €1,800 a month for a studio flat in a city that barely knew they existed.
And so, they moved.
At first, it was short stays. Lisbon, Barcelona, Split, Berlin—cities that felt cool, connected, and safe. But over time, something changed. Nomads began to stay longer. According to 2024 data from NomadList, while 46% of digital nomads still stay less than 7 days in a city, a growing 20% are staying more than a month. The average stay in a country is now over 5 months. Airbnb’s internal data confirms it: long stays (28+ nights) are now one of the platform’s fastest-growing segments.
What does that mean? That many of these so-called nomads are not passing through. They’re settling in—at least temporarily.
But where do they go?
Europe’s big cities have started pushing back. Amsterdam capped short-term rentals. Lisbon ended its golden visa and cracked down on local Airbnb operators. Barcelona banned all short-term rentals by 2028.
But that doesn’t mean the phenomenon stops. It moves.
And here comes the opportunity—and the tension.
Smaller towns, inland regions, forgotten villages—these are the places that could actually benefit from an influx of long-staying, off-season professionals. But they’re often the least prepared to host them. Many don’t have coworking spaces, or reliable transport, or housing formats suitable for medium- or long-term stays. A converted tourist flat with no desk and a microwave doesn’t cut it when you’re working from Monday to Friday.
Still, it’s happening. From Calabria to Transylvania, from rural France to interior Portugal, more and more nomads are discovering a new way of living—not in the anonymity of megacities, but in places where life is slower, rent is lower, and your presence makes a difference.
Misconceptions and mismanagement
The backlash often comes from a legitimate place. Locals see prices rise and blame outsiders. They see English signs where their dialect used to be. But the real issue is rarely the people arriving. It’s how they’re invited.
Too many destinations launch nomad programs without thinking long-term. They promote “Come work here!” campaigns, attract hundreds of digital workers, and forget to plan for housing, integration, or local benefit. Then, when tensions arise, they blame the very people they marketed to.
The truth is, digital nomads don’t create bubbles—bad planning does.
The small town advantage
Here’s the part no one talks about enough: digital nomads are anti-seasonal.
They don’t arrive in August and disappear in September. They book off-season. They stay through the shoulder months—October, November, March, April—when most tourism dries up. This alone makes them ideal allies for small communities dependent on fragile seasonal income.
They also spend differently. They don’t rush through museums or eat in chains. They shop at local markets. They go to the same café every morning. They build routines. And when the place feels right, many of them return. Some stay.
Data from the MBO Partners 2024 State of Independence study confirms this: nearly 20% of digital nomads say they’ve returned to a destination to live longer-term, and 8% report settling down permanently. That’s thousands of new citizens—not just visitors—who contribute to local economies, schools, and communities.
And they do so by choice.
What’s missing?
Despite the benefits, many towns are simply not ready. Here’s what they often lack:
Mid- to long-term housing: not hotels, not B&Bs—actual apartments with kitchens, desks, and fair leases.
Coworking or coliving spaces: or at least a library or room with good WiFi and natural light.
Local networks: people to connect with. Language exchanges, meetups, volunteering. Belonging starts with contact.
Municipal strategy: understanding who’s coming, what they need, and how they can be an asset—not a threat.
Ideas for a new approach
If small towns want to attract digital nomads in a meaningful way, they must stop copying tourist marketing and start building infrastructure. Here are five proposals:
Create nomad-friendly housing formats
Incentivise landlords to convert unused spaces into medium-term rentals. No luxury needed—just quality and function.Establish seasonal coworking vouchers
Offer free or discounted access to coworking spaces in low season. It keeps spaces open and towns active.Nomad-local integration programs
Language tandems, shared skill exchanges, mentorship programs for young locals in digital jobs.Data collection and impact monitoring
Know who’s coming, how long they stay, what they spend, and what they need. Don’t fly blind.Rural Visa acceleration
Advocate for easier long-stay permits specifically for non-EU remote workers who want to live in low-density areas.
Not a threat, a choice
The digital nomad is not a new tourist. They are something different—and potentially more valuable.
They are individuals choosing to live elsewhere, often off-season, with a willingness to integrate and contribute. They don’t want to displace anyone. They want to live well, work calmly, and give back—especially if the place lets them.
So instead of asking how to protect towns from digital nomads, maybe we should ask: how can these new residents help us protect our towns from disappearing?
That’s the conversation worth having.
Unlike in 2021-2022, where the Covid-driven boom of remote work resulted in many newcomers "dipping their toe in the water" of digital nomadism, 2025 nomads are more discerning. They benchmark places against the top nomads destinations in the world, those who have really understood and embraced the opportunity. As you say, a solid municipal strategy is a must.