About the Author

The author (left) and a grey macaque in Bali, Indonesia

Like all red blooded millennials, I ran straight into an existential crisis in my early 30’s. Everything started out fine: I made pretty reasonable decisions, went to college and got my degree, then worked as a mechanical engineer for about seven years. But at some point in those seven years, I became disillusioned with it. I’m not sure if it was this exact moment, but I do remember a project manager saying “this place isn’t for people that want to make the world a better place, this place is for people who want to work and make a lot of money.” I groaned on the inside, because in all honesty, he was right.  I did want to make the world a better place – at least in some small part – and in my book, making money and working hard are means to an end, not the end itself.  Despite that, I stayed there a couple more years, because, well, the money was good, the people were fun, sometimes we got to drink at work, and I do actually quite like designing things. That meant that it was hard to see what the next step was. Part of the problem was that I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do in the long term and I didn’t – and still don’t – know the answer. Over time, I’ve become more comfortable with that. The next step doesn’t have to define my life for decades to come (though I suppose it might), I just need to give myself a chance to grow, explore and focus on the things I really love in life. I love to travel and kiteboard: A full time job is excellent at getting in the way of both. And I find myself in the very lucky place of having not only a wife who works freelance and can earn money anywhere with an Internet connection, but also enough savings to fall back on if her work runs thin. That means just one thing:  It’s time to pack our bags and embrace the nomad lifestyle.