Remote work - The strange feeling of not doing anything 100%: not quite working, not quite traveling, living in the in-between

The Nomag Pulse #42

With this issue of The Nomag Pulse, we’re pleased to welcome our new contributor: Marion PECOU

“Where is she now? Is she traveling? Is she working?”

You’re confused, my family is confused, I’m confused.

Let’s be honest: working while traveling in a campervan (or traveling while working in a campervan) is a freaking confusing lifestyle.

It seems so strangely impossible to most people that they immediately jump to the most practical questions: “How do you get power?” “Do you have internet access?” “Are your clients okay with this?”

And as annoying as it is to constantly make sure my practical issues don’t become issues, the most interesting part of this lifestyle isn’t practical at all.

Most days, my routine looks surprisingly similar to that of anyone with a 9-to-5 job. I wake up, make a cup of tea, open my laptop, and work until lunch. And then... then comes the confusion.

Because I look out the window of my campervan and see a stunning beach calling me for a walk in the water, or a majestic mountain challenging my legs to an epic hike, or a tiny historic village inviting me to sit down and try every local dish on the menu until I collapse.

Well, that part is for Instagram.

Half of the time, yes, I’m surrounded by beautiful travel scenery. But the other half looks like this: working while waiting at the laundromat, emptying the toilet at a dump station, finding a place to refill the water tank, buying groceries, driving for an hour, stopping for a video call, driving another thirty minutes, searching for a place to park for the night (and working again).

When I finally lift my head from my computer around 6 p.m., the sun is already setting, and I rush out for a five-minute walk in nature. As deeply restorative as it is, on those days, I feel like I’m missing the trip.

But if I don’t work, I won’t be able to offer myself those amazing views from my desk/living room/house window.

On less busy days, though, I can bend this routine a little, and that’s where the magic happens: a yoga class on an empty beach in the morning, a two-hour hike after lunch, a thirty-minute sunset walk through a beautiful city. And just like that, we’re back to the Instagram version of this life.

This constant in-between comes with constraints, but it also offers the freedom and calm that travel usually brings: the stimulation of discovering new places, the quiet awe of a landscape, birdwatching from a tiny house on wheels. These are things we normally allow ourselves to do only when we’re traveling.

And I get to do this during half of my “normal” time? I guess I love that confusion.

Because when those moments become part of everyday life, a deep sense of inner peace settles in. One that, paradoxically, helps me perform better at work. Even if it’s frustrating not to step into that cute local art shop because of a meeting, or not to climb that mountain with my partner because a new client just came in.

Not working 100% and not traveling 100% has been the most satisfying of all the frustrating feelings I’ve ever experienced.

Maybe this permanent grey zone is what freedom looks like after all? So I’ll probably continue being happily confused for a little while longer.

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This article was written as part of an editorial collaboration with the travel app Polarsteps.

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