No, I’m not really “moving” to Canada, but “Why I’m Going to Canada” doesn’t feel like the right title, and this one surely caught your eye more, right?
For a few years now, I’ve looked at opportunities for slower, extended travel. I tried a sample of a slower style of travel when I spent 3 weeks in Mexico in 2023, but I only spent a couple of weeks stationary in one city there, and even then I was hopping between different accommodations. Slowing down in Merida meant for me trying to cram in every activity possible rather than relax into a regular routine. I determined I might be bad at slow travel and would have to try again.
And then a lot of things fell apart all at once. I lost my relationship, my job, my home, and all sense of stability, and though it would have felt like a great time to escape and travel, I stayed to care for Chewie. I set everything else aside and prioritized her until the end.
In the past year, Chewie and I hopped between a few temporary homes, avoiding signing a year-long lease because I didn’t want to trap myself geographically or financially. It was a hard year. But it gave me a chance to do a few things.
First, it gave me the chance to build my own travel business. Travel advising was mostly a passion project that I thought might be a fun way to earn a few extra dollars if I got lucky. I’d been designing itineraries here and there for people for a few years, but I hadn’t committed to seeing what would happen if I really tried travel advising in a serious way. There were people in my life who thought this was a silly venture. We live in a time of Google and AI, they said. Travel advisors are surely obsolete. I didn’t care. I knew how time-consuming travel planning can be, and I knew that AI and Google couldn’t provide answers to questions people didn’t even know to ask. I knew the downfalls of the internet for planning my own trips, and I knew how to alleviate those stressful parts of planning for others. I believed there was a need for it, and I had nothing else to lose.
I launched this business a year ago, and I had the goal to double my 2024 earnings in 2025. Halfway through the year, I’ve already quadrupled it. It was never about the money though, and trust me when I tell you that I’m not making anywhere near an amount that would enable me to do this full-time. But it was proof that I should believe in myself instead of waiting for other people to validate my dreams. And even though it’s not a lot of money, it was an unexpected bit that made travel feel within reach again. It’s work I can do from anywhere on my own schedule, and it’s work I never get tired of.
Another couple of part-time jobs fell into my lap in ways that felt serendipitous. The jobs I tried to get fell through, and I decided maybe things were supposed to work out this way instead—parttime work that isn’t connected to a contract and that can come with me anywhere.
And then unexpectedly, a room in a co-living space in Montreal opened.
Co-living spaces have existed for years but have really taken off since the pandemic started and more people started having the option to work remotely. They’re sort of like hostels but designed for digital nomads (AKA remote workers with no home base) who want to travel slower and be part of a community. Most co-living spaces have a minimum stay requirement of a month, and they’re much cheaper than Airbnbs or other short-term rentals because they’re shared housing. I have a list of co-living spaces that I check frequently. After Chewie died, I didn’t know if I was ready to start traveling again so quickly, but there was availability (a rarity in summer months) at the space in Montreal that I’ve had my eye on for years. And it was surprisingly affordable. So, I trusted that if it were supposed to work out, it would. And it did.
Why Montreal?
I love Montreal, but I’d typically chose to go somewhere new rather than a place I’ve been multiple times. And while it wasn’t at the top of my list for a place to visit, there were a few logical reasons it felt right for this journey.
First, I’m doing remote work that requires me to be in the same (or close-enough) time zone (I’m an hour ahead) and requires constant phone service. Canada and Mexico made the most sense for time zones and not changing a phone plan, and I wanted to escape the heat rather than travel deeper into it.
Second, my familiarity with Montreal makes it feel like a good place to test co-living. And it might be easier to accomplish the things I’d like in a place where I don’t feel the constant urgency to be running around and experiencing everything for the first time the way I would in a new-to-me city.
Third, I could get here for free. The Amtrak credit card is a wonder I’ll have to tell you all about in a different post, but know that I could travel here and back home like 3.5 times with only the welcome reward points I earned for signing up for the card. Really. This is true. The points stretch WAAAY farther than the equivalent monetary value would.
There’s also the circus festival. I was in Montreal a few years ago during a few days of the annual July circus festival. There are free street performances around town every night, and you can wander from park to park watching worldclass aerialists. Getting to see all of it feels too good to be true, and a chance to take aerial classes in the circus capital of the world feels like too great of an opportunity to pass up.
And so, a week and a half ago, I got on a train heading north. I’ve been traveling around a bit on the East Coast and in Quebec before I’ll settle in Montreal where I’ll stay for all of July with my fellow co-livers—people I haven’t met yet but will become important to me soon.
I have one main goal—to finish my fiction manuscript. I started writing it in Europe and wrote most of it in a frantic burst of inspiration across Romania, Croatia, Slovenia, and Italy. Two and a half years later, it’s still not done. And it feels like I’ve been given this gift of time and a new setting to get back in the mental place I need to be in to finish it. It’s a financially ill-advised writing retreat that feels important. Sometimes we have to invest in ourselves even if the payoff isn’t guaranteed.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been writing about travel while I’m doing it. I’m feeling a bit shellshocked and timid, but I’m glad to be back. I’m glad you’re here.
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