Had I bitten off more than I could chew? My third day as a nomad in Asia

When being an Oink works in your favour

Feb 2025

Now that I’m not chained to city living or an office, I’ve been booking more pet sits in the countryside and taking nice long walks. My most recent booking took me to Oxford, to care for a lovely dog called Murphy, and had me reflecting on the romanticism of university life.

I had been rejected from Oxford and UCL at 18 to study English Literature – the year student loans rose from £3k to £9k per year. I didn’t have a clue about the working world, the cost of living, or wages at this point.

I don’t even remember thinking about university in much detail, and actually wanted to go to drama school. No one in my family went to uni. But the influence of parents, teachers, Jack Wills and Evelyn Waugh, soon had me applying, even with the massive hike in tuition fees.

Champagne was swapped for Bucky after I accepted a place at the University of Glasgow, which offered me a four-year degree at £27K, as opposed to the £36K I’d have paid at Edinburgh. Bargain!

10 years later, I still owe Student Finance England £60K and live out of a suitcase.

In the context of rising youth unemployment, potential student loan increases, and the growing use of AI in entry-level roles, this had me thinking – would I go to university now?

I could definitely write press releases at 18, but I didn’t start earning a pay cheque until I was 23 (before that, I worked for three months for free as an “intern”).

If the opportunity had been presented, I could have joined a PR agency after school, learned the ropes, and generated a lot of earning power in that five-year gap. I can’t think of one agency that offers this option, but I’m happy to be contradicted on this.

Maybe I’d have done a part-time degree later. Maybe I’d have changed career paths. Who knows. But I might have built financial stability earlier – whether that meant savings, a deposit, or simply more flexibility. Not that life is just about those markers, but they do shape your options.

Instead, at 32, I’m roaming from house to house as a full time pet sitter. Not because I have to, but because I made a choice to redesign my overheads. “Best to do it whilst I’m an OINK, Dad!”, I remember saying (one income, no kids). Hey, I may as well turn single life into an earner.

Pet sitting saves me around £1,000 per month. That dramatically lowers my fixed costs, which means I can freelance fewer days, build other skillsets, and reduce the repayments that rise and fall with my income.

As a result, my repayments reduce by around £3K per year, too.

According to a report from the Education reporter Hazel Shearing on the BBC today, I’m not the only millennial thinking like this.

One person featured in the report today (24th Feb) cut his working week to four days so that he could spend more time doing up his house. The extra day cost him around £80 per week due to the smaller repayment, but he also saved money by not commuting to work – and gained time.

Obviously I recognise that in order to gain that privilege, you need a job first. But university isn’t the only path to competence or stability anymore. There are many ways to earn and live these days that don’t require you to spend £50k before you’ve entered the payroll – paths that have always been there, but maybe didn’t seem as “glamorous” at 18.

I feel a lot of compassion for recent graduates struggling to get jobs and it’ll be interesting to see what the knock-on effect of their experience will be for lifestyles, workplaces and cities.

But I’m hopeful. Necessity is the mother of invention, after all, and if any generation has proven the power of the phrase “work smarter, not harder”, it’s them.

Three months into life on the road, a day spent with koalas, penguins and an old friend made me reflect on home, belonging and the life waiting for me back in the UK.

“Oh my God. I want one!”

I was in Australia, arm in arm with my friend (and now expat) Becca.

Becca, like a lot of Londoners, committed the ultimate friend betrayal by moving to Australia in 2023. 

Having finally forgiven her, we now found ourselves cooing over koalas at Moonlit Sanctuary, an award-winning wildlife park located 50 minutes southeast of Melbourne’s CB, following a fun filled weekend in Sydney’s Blue Mountains.

A long awaited trip

I’d always wanted to visit Australia. Every single member of my family had either lived or travelled here, and as an 18-year-old I’d mentally planned an entire gap year on the other side of the world, that I was too scared and too broke to execute it.

Just as the desperate migrants romanticised California in The Grapes of Wrath, Australia seems to have a kind of “heaven on earth” appeal for us intrepid Europeans. And more than a decade later, it felt thrilling to be standing on Ozzy soil, ready to wrap up a three-month stint as a digital nomad in Asia.

But where were the crocs?

Perhaps I’d gone a bit feral from all those weird nights in hostels, but Sydney itself hadn’t thrilled me – and when we reunited in Melbourne after a short hiatus, I was itching to get back into nature.

Half expecting to see crocs, snakes and spiders the minute I stepped off the plane, it was a little disenchanting to be surrounded by buses and McDonald’s; so, we decided to book a day trip South to see some of the country’s most dangerous animals – koala bears, wallabies and penguins.

Moonlit Sanctuary is an award-winning wildlife park in Melbourne

After several fun, but somewhat exhausting, months on the road as a digital nomad, I was ready for a cuddle; and luckily our first stop was Moonlit Sanctuary, a wildlife conservation park in Victoria focused on endangered native species breeding, education, and immersive visitor experiences.

Sadly, these adorable teddy-like creatures are not for handling, but looking up at the canopies of the sanctuary, it felt incredibly special to see koala bears in the flesh, even if they were simply napping.

After much pst psttting, and a short interaction with a wallaby (sort of like a tiny kangaroo), we then drove further South toward “The Nobbies”.

I wasn’t sure what to expect at the other end, and was surprised to learn that this is in fact a dramatic, and very beautiful clifftop area on Phillip Island – not dissimilar to Cornwall, I might add.

Leave it to the Aussies to call an area of outstanding natural beauty “the Nobbies”

It’s a great place to catch sea life apparently, and whilst we didn’t spoke any whales or seals, we had something special waiting for us down at the beach at dusk – the Penguin Parade.

Settling down for the Penguin Parade

This is a precious natural phenomenon where hundreds of tiny little penguins spend the day feeding at sea before returning to shore at sunset – all at the same time.

We passed an hour or two on the beach with our hot chocolates, watching the waves and wondering when the first penguins would appear.

It was a bitter evening, and as our steaming drinks began to cool, I wondered if the penguins had lost their way back.

But lo! Just as the light faded – a couple of tiny heads popped up over the water. Then a dozen, then a hundred. The birds, it turned out, were more organised than Becca and I had ever been in our lives. They had been waiting for darkness so that they could travel in safety.

Once on shore, the tiny creatures waited for their friends to arrive – preferring to travel in big groups – before panic-waddling up the beach to their burrows. Above their head, birds of prey circulated, observing the scene and braced to pounce on stragglers.

Luckily for us, there were no fatalities and all the penguins successfully scurried over the sand, before disappearing into the dunes, safe at home for another night.

Wherever you go, there you are

It was an adorable scene – somewhat similar to seeing the lollipop lady gather the children before crossing the road. And after three months of travel, watching the little birds shuffle back to a place of safety and familiarity felt particularly moving.

I didn’t know how this nomad experiment would go, or for how long I’d be able to sustain life on the road, having never backpacked this long alone before. But I had noticed by this point that I was struggling to stay present, due to anxieties about the future.

I knew by now that I wanted to remain “nomadic” – but what that looked like in practice, I wasn’t sure. Thoughts were turning toward commitments at home; decisions about where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do could no longer be put off; and after weeks of hostels, airports and constantly being on the move, even daily decision making was difficult.

I believe this is a scenario that many people on the road find themselves in. On my route, I met lots of people who seemed to be avoiding problems they were having at home, processing something, or just generally lost and dissatisfied with life.

I don’t know if travelling is the right way to deal with those things or not. But as they say “wherever you go, there you are”. At some point you’ll have to confront internal or external challenges, or at least seek support from someone you know – whether that’s a local support network, or someone from home.

Having Becca there to take some of the weight off my shoulders reminded me that even the most independent travellers need help sometimes.

And, like the penguins making their way back to shore at dusk, I felt ready to call time on my adventure and head home too – but not before seeing Singapore.

*If you want to visit Philip Island, can either drive over yourself or take a full-day trip, which cost us around £70 including return travel from Melbourne. We also had a lovely guide who was funny, knowledgeable and genuinely passionate about the animals, which made the experience even better.*

History meets modernity in this vibrant Cambodian city.

I didn’t really know what to expect from Siem Reap when I booked a flight there in early March. Obviously I’d heard of Angkor Wat, but the city itself didn’t seem to be talked about much in digital nomad circles online.

At this point, I had been travelling around Southeast Asia as a freelance remote worker for four weeks. Having just wasted five days throwing up in Vang Vieng in Laos (don’t go there), I was keen to find somewhere I could properly base myself for a bit, get some work done, and have at least one significant cultural experience.

I ended up spending a week in Siem Reap, working lightly from abroad, pampering myself, sampling the nightlife and visiting the historic sites. I have to say I was really pleasantly surprised by it and could have stayed longer – here’s why.

A vibrant urban jungle

First of all, it feels nothing like Bangkok or Hanoi, both of which I found a little overstimulating.

Unlike Bangkok (where I started), the city is not full of high-rise buildings, and there seems to be a lot more space to roam around than there is in Hanoi – at least in the old French Quarter (in the centre). That’s partly due to a heritage rule that limits building heights, giving the city a less imposing, more town-like feel. In fact, it reminded me of a larger Luang Prabang (Laos).

It’s also incredibly colourful. The first thing I did after leaving the airport was take an electric tuk-tuk into the city centre, about half an hour away. As we got closer, it seemed I was shaded by trees much of the time.

The buildings are a mix of colonial-era French and traditional Khmer styles, as opposed to the more brutalist vibe of Phnom Penh, which is a constant reminder of Cambodia’s dark past. Many exteriors are covered in plants and foliage, giving the city a calm, verdant feel – something like an urban jungle, which I found quite soothing.

Is there a nomad “scene”?

There is definitely a remote-working community here, but it’s not massive. I overheard young English and European speakers chatting about their lives in cafes, and know people who are based there permanently as teachers.

As a communications consultant, my work mostly consists of sending emails, writing articles, and taking video calls, so I cannot speak to wifi speeds in much depth – I defer to reddit forums for that kind of information.

But a lot of the cafes were well set up for laptops, with decent WiFi, air conditioning, and private rooms to take calls, which is another giveaway.

Some of my favourite spots to “plug in” in Siem Reap included:

Footprint Cafe – feels like sitting in a small library. It has links to the University of Cambridge in the UK, and seemed like a good place to meet people.

New Leaf Eatery – excellent vegan food, with noticeboards full of flyers for local events and clubs. The restaurant supports youth development in Siem Reap.

Common Grounds – situated on one of the prettiest streets in the city, I came here twice for breakfast and the air conditioning. All profits support humanitarian and development work in Cambodia.

Biolab Coffee – designed with nomads in mind, it also functions as a coworking space and is well set up for meetings.

A conscious community

Cambodia has a very painful recent past, which was one of the reasons I was keen to visit. During the late 20th century, the country suffered years of civil war, partly shaped by the wider conflict in neighbouring Vietnam.

This was followed by the tyranny of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, a brutally cruel regime that resulted in the deaths of around a third of Cambodia’s population. Because Pot targeted people he considered to be “intellectual”, after its collapse in 1979, the country faced a massive shortage of teachers and professionals. Illiteracy rates climbed to nearly 40%, and the education system had to be rebuilt from scratch.

That history still feels present, and one noticeable outcome is how many businesses focus on reinvesting money and support back into the local community, as you’ll see from my descriptions about the cafes above.

I talked a little in my Chiang Mai blog about the ethics of being a nomad, and the experience of being somewhere, whilst not totally immersed. The people of Siem Reap call you to do the opposite, and I really liked that about it.

Which Wat is Wat?

Another point of appeal for Siem Reap is that is is soaked in modern and ancient history – being home to the city of Angkor – so there’s quite a bit to get your teeth into on your days off.

Built in the twelfth century, Angkor was the centre of the Khmer Empire, a powerful kingdom that once dominated much of Southeast Asia. At its peak, it was home to around a million people, making it the largest pre-industrial city known to exist.

As the Khmer empire dissolved, Angkor became a ruin. Whilst it was known to the local community, it wasn’t until around 200 years ago that archeologists got their hands on it, and made it a major tourist attraction. It remains the largest religious (Hindu/Buddhist) monument in the world, at three times the size of the Vatican City, and a lot of it is still in tact.

One or two days in Angkor?

Because there’s so much to see, visitors can buy either a one-day ticket ($37), a three-day ticket ($62) or a seven-day ticket ($72).

I’d heard sunrise or sunset were the best times to go, so on my first day, I set an alarm for 3am and joined a Get Your Guide tour. The tour cost around £10, including transport – which felt like a bargain.

By 5am, I was standing in front of the iconic towers of Angkor Wat with about 20 thousand other tourists trying to get a photo of the sun rising over the “pine cones”. As it turns out, these are actually lotus buds, and represent purity, divinity, and fertility. Lovely!

As someone with no background on the place, I was really amazed by the scale of Ankor, and the level of preservation, which is why so many people advise getting the three day pass (which I opted for). But I will go out on a limb and say that one day was enough for me.

This is the very ancient past we’re talking about, and there’s only so much your brain can take in when you’re tired and hot. Our guide wasn’t brilliant at bringing it to life either – much unlike our guide in Phom Pehn (which I visited after Siem Reap), who did an incredible job at illustrating the horror of the killing fields and S21.

I had learned by this point in my trip to just take in what I could manage, and then read or listen to something later in order to get the full picture. When I went back at sunset a couple of days later, I booked a tuk-tuk to take me around the key buildings I hadn’t yet seen (costing around £15 for the day) and it was far less busy. more relaxing and I was able to google things on the way.

If you’re taking a tour, bring plenty of water. It gets hot very quickly!

Visiting Kampong Phluk village on Tonlé Sap lake

Another cool thing to do is go to Tonlé Sap lake, just outside of Siem Reap, to see a “floating” villages.

What’s fascinating about Tonlé Sap is that its river system reverses twice a year. In the dry season it drains into the Mekong, but during the wet season, silt from the Mekong Delta causes the river to back up, flooding much of the country and expanding the lake. So a lot of the villages here are built on tall stilts to avoid the rising water.

We visited one called Kampong Phluk. It was dry when we arrived, so we could walk about the village easily enough. It was very lively, with a wedding underway, a school in full swing, and music blaring. The houses are beautifully colourful, which apparently helps keep flies and mosquitoes away at night.

The highlight was when we were taken by boat to a “floating restaurant” on the lake, where we spent a few hours chatting over beers and watching the sunset. You cannot see land for miles, so it’s quite surreal to be sitting on a raft in the middle of the water drinking beers. I believe there are crocodiles in the water though, so do not advise swimming in it!

A day tour felt like plenty, but I know someone who stayed there for a month, so there’s clearly more to it for those who want to dig deeper.

Lots to offer and well connected

It might not be a headline digital nomad hub, but if you’re a remote worker looking for somewhere cheap, lively, and historically intriguing to linger, Siem Reap has a lot to offer.

Not only is it a great mix of culture, calm, and coffee, Koh Rong, Koh Rong Sanloem and Phnom Penh are all reachable within the day, and it has its own airport in case you needed to hop out of the country quickly.

Yes, price are a little higher than Thailand and Laos – roughly £3 to £5 for a meal, for instance – but still very affordable. I could have certainly stayed longer, but the islands were calling me, so I spent the following week decompressing on the beach. It’s a hard life being a nomad!

I cross from Thailand to Laos, for a proper weekend off.

I wasn’t even planning to visit Laos during my South East Asia trip last year. Then one day in November, whilst hunched over my desk planning my route, I saw a deeply enticing picture – a wooden treehouse, surrounded by leaves, and doused in sunshine.

It was a snap from The Gibbon Experience – a tourism-based conservation programme that allows people to stay in tree houses and zip wire across Nam Kan national park in Northern Laos.

The organisation protects the area from logging by creating an alternative income, and gives the locals here a way of life. Guests that come here have a small chance of spotting endangered black-crested Gibbons (did we see them? Read on to find out).

After a quick scan of reddit and TripAdvisor – my go-to for travel advice – it seemed legit. And as luck would have it, there was availability during the weekend I had planned to leave Chiang Mai (but not before – so book at least three months ahead!).

Without much further thought, I booked a two night stay (the “Classic” tour) for around £300. This was the most expensive thing I bought during my time in South East Asia, where I worked for three months as a digital nomad – so I didn’t hold back. How else does one spend their weekends off in Asia?

Entering Laos via the Thai Laos Friendship Bridge

First of all, I had to get from Chiang Mai in Thailand – where I’d been working for the week – to Laos. That meant crossing the Thai Laos Friendship Bridge.

This was my first land border crossing of the trip, so I was a little nervous, especially as I’ve mostly travelled in Europe which is pretty straightforward as a Brit.

But having my passport photos and PRINTED e-visa in hand, made the process pretty simple. If you don’t bring this with you, ensure you have $50 crisp dollar notes so that you can pay for your visa.

Laos is a developing nation, so a little preparation goes far.

Most people heading into Laos this way will stop first at the nearest small town, Huay Xai (pronounced “Hox Aye”). Once I had crossed the border, a couple of buses took us into the town, making the process fairly straightforward and easy to navigate as a solo traveller.

Luckily, you don’t need to get Lao kip (LAK) before entering the country – they accept Thai baht, and sometimes even US dollars. So do NOT use up all your Baht when leaving Thailand. You’ll need some to pay for the bus over the Friendship Bridge, and the driver in Laos (it cost us around 200 baht each).

Once your baht is gone though, you’ll need cash. The kip isn’t a strong currency, and the country is cheap as chips – a clean dorm bed will set you back around £6–8, and meals are £1–3. The max you can get out of the ATM is 2M kip (around £70), so just grab the lot, and use it up – don’t get little amounts.

Another big tip – the ATMs in Laos can’t be trusted. Take your money from the machine as soon as it comes out. I was with a girl whose cash got swallowed back in and one took my bank card later in Vang Vieng (a story for another time).

Laos feels much smaller and rural after Thailand, because it is. Memories of the first five minutes include being overtaken by children on motorbikes, and wall to wall adverts for Beerlao.

With this in mind, I had pre-booked a dorm room at “Little Hostel”. I needed a good night’s sleep, and wanted somewhere clean and comfortable.

It really delivered, and the girl running it (who spoke excellent English) even made us a wonderful porridge breakfast. There’s a number of nice options for dinner too, but bear in mind, service will be VERY slow. That’s just what it’s like in Laos!

Heading to the park, and facing my fear of heights

The Gibbon Experience office is easy to find, and we headed there at around 8am to swap our bigger bags for overnight packs. After a rather glitchy safety video, we put our lives in the hands of the staff and started the two hour drive up the mountains.

The next four hours was a blur that consisted of weeing in holes in the ground (common all over Laos), swapping extremely rudimentary small talk with our guides (mostly just smiling and nodding) and not looking each other in the eye until we stopped at the Gibbon Exp. Headquarters for lunch.

There were eight people in my group (just three couples, and two solo travellers, including me), and after a filling lunch of glass noodles, we started to wake up, and managed to exchange names and back stories (long story short, we had a wonderful time together).

Stopping for lunch at the headquarters

The trip requires a fair bit of hiking, so be prepared

We then took a shortish trek into the forest, where we were taught how to use the zip lines.

It was a little nerve wracking to begin with, because – if you’ve seen the footage from my instagram – you’re extremely high up. In the tree tops, no less! In addition, neither of our guides spoke good English. For full transparency, there was a death in 2017, but since then, the organisation has tightened it’s health and safety (and critically, weight limit). I knew this ahead of time and felt comfortable, but do your research and consider what feels right to you.

I’m actually slightly afraid of heights, but the minute I jumped off the ledge, I was just buzzing. Nothing can prepare you for the incredible views of the canopies, and the quiet sound of the forest around you as you’re speeding along the wire – that’s for sure.

After a couple of hours, we zip wired towards our treehouse and retired for the evening (at around 4pm).

Dinner at our treehouse

As the sun started setting, it was time to explore our home for the weekend.

The treehouses, raised over 40 metres off the ground, are wonderful. It was just like being in Swallows and Amazons, but with modern accompaniments. I’m talking a flushing toilet, electric lights, and a waterfall shower. Yes it’s cold – but it comes with a view of the jungle, so compromises must be made!

Dinner consisted of spring rolls, eggs, rice, noodles and coffee, and was wired in by the guides, who also joined us for traditional shots of rice wine.

Zip wiring for days on end is tiring, so when the guides left, after helping us with our beds, we deftly located the biscuit box and guzzled them down whilst playing card games.

When darkness truly fell, the six of us turned off the lights and listened to the sounds of the dense wildlife, before getting into our enclosed ‘bed tents’ and settling into a deeply comfortable sleep.

The forest is noisy at night, so bring ear plugs if that bothers you (I quite enjoyed it).

Bonding with the wildlife

Up at 7am for brekky, which – given it was a repeat of the last evening – was a bit of a shock to the European tummy. The food remained the same for the next 3 days, with slight variations each time, and allowances for the vegans in the group.

After coffee, we were back out on the zip lines until 11.30, with a fair bit of hiking in between. Not unmanageable, but something to keep in mind – you don’t slow down much, and even our group (20s–30s) was getting tired. Luckily we had a solid three-hour break back at treehouse five for lunch and a nap.

In the afternoon we explored the other treehouses – the 50m-high one, the big 11-person one, and the honeymoon suite where we met a lovely retired couple that had met in Cambodia. All were wonderful, but we still felt that ours had the best view.

We spent the evening looking at the giant spiders in the rafters and trying to catch a rat we saw deep-throating our ketchup bottle. There were also some bats flying through – they didn’t bother us, but definitely get your rabies jabs before coming. I will stress that the sleeping situation unnerved me before I left, but the mosquito nets around our tents were solid, and nothing was getting in. It was plenty warm, and pretty cosy!

After another brilliant sunset, we were up at 5.30 the next morning for a final hike to the viewpoint. This time we headed toward a special viewpoint where the gibbons tend to feed. Unfortunately, despite lingering for some time, we did not see any – but we did hear them singing in the distance, which was a highlight.

We packed in a little more ziplining that day, and by midday, we were back at the village for lunch, photo swapping, and the journey home. We were absolutely shattered by this point, but having bonded on the trip, much laughter was had on the way home – a sea change from the way there!

It really was a wonderful and unique experience, for not that much money by UK standards. You can take a one night trip, but the “Classic” two night tour is less popular, more intimate, and only slightly more expensive, so I would suggest doing this. Just ensure that you book well ahead (at least three months in advance).

My top tips:

• Bed sharing – As a solo traveller, I did have to share a bed with a guy my age. I was comfortable with this because we got on very well, but some people might not be
• Wildlife – Whilst I was anxious about spiders and rats, they didn’t prove to be a problem. The beds are really secure, and as long as you put your net right around it (which we did), you’ll be fine. For the spiders, my advice is to simply not look at the rafters. We did see a rat but the experience turned out to be more amusing than scary. Don’t bring snacks though, as they will eat through your bag. There are bats flying around, so get your rabies jab!
• Games – Bring card games for evening time. I advocate for Monopoly deal
• Timing – I’d opt for dry season, but the trips do run in the rainy season too
• Clothes – Pack as little as you can manage, but long sleeves for the evening (I went in dry season / February). Bikini for the shower (although there is a curtain)
• Gibbons – Accept that you probably won’t see them, but you’ll still have fun
• Length – Do the Classic / longer tour (not the Giant Loop)! It’s a more intimate group and you see a lot more