Gilda girl tea: a fun-filled guide to Madrid

Why the Spanish capital is perfect for a spring time soiree.

This will sound conceited, but as a child, I found myself slightly bored by Spain.

I was born in the 90s, which means I’m very much a product of parents seduced by programmes like A Place in the Sun. TV at the time was obsessed with our hot neighbour, and – like a lot of people – Mum and Dad bought into the dream of becoming expats by investing in a small villa on the Costa Brava.

In reality, this meant we spent a few weeks a year visiting what was essentially a building site near Alicante. And while it was obviously a huge privilege – and I do have really fond memories of those times with my family – the trips were hardly cultural experiences. You’re not exactly getting under the skin of Spain in those expat villages, especially as every second person is English.

Fast forward a few years and I chose to study Spanish at A-level. Since then I’ve travelled a little more widely across the country and it turns out there’s a lot to love. Whilst Seville and Barcelona rank highly in my list of Spanish city breaks, in this guide, I’m making the case for its often-overlooked rival: Madrid.

My memories of Madrid as a child mostly involve avoiding the excruciating mid-summer heat. But revisiting in September last year for my friend’s hen do made realise just how great a spot it is for a shoulder-month visit.

So as April approaches, here’s my guide on how to spend the perfect short spring break in the Spanish capital.

Day 1: Tapas and tortillas with a hint of history

First of all, where should you stay? Well, consider that Madrid is Spain’s biggest city, and comes in at double the size of Barcelona. It’s a busy, urban spot, but if you want a neighbourhood feel, I can advocate for an area called Lavapiés.

This is one of the city’s most characterful neighbourhoods; full of street art, independent cafés and, importantly, pockets of shade. I felt relatively safe there, although I would advise being vigilant at night (I usually check reddit for information about local safety!).

Start your trip early by grabbing coffee and pastries from one of the local favourites such as Nomade Café or Hola Coffee, and enjoy the gorgeous murals.

Then, from Lavapiés, take a 20–25 minute walk (or a short bus ride) into the historic centre.

Head towards the Royal Palace of Madrid, passing through Plaza de Oriente on the way. This area feels like the “classic” Madrid you see in photos, and is nice for a little walk and photo snapping before the heat of the day sets in; I didn’t go inside the museum, but you can do so if you want (if you later join a walking tour, they’ll likely cover the history).

For lunch, escape the heat and go in search of tortillas. Not the Mexican flatbread version, but the Spanish kind: thick, eggy, and often slightly gooey in the middle. I liked La Martinuca for its different variations (best enjoyed sitting inside), or Pez Tortilla on Calle de Espoz y Mina for somewhere more chaotic and buzzy; lots of locals crowded around standing tables.

In the afternoon, ease into some culture at Museo Reina Sofía. If you time it right (after 4pm), entry is free, so head over at 3 to join the queue (perhaps with a beer in hand); this is an easy way to add something “cultural” without overcommitting your day.

As evening sets in, lean into Madrid’s slightly chaotic energy by stopping for sangria and tapas at El Tigre or La Torre del Oro. These are traditional pubs known for generous – and borderline excessive – free food with drinks. You’ll be able to stuff your face and get a bit drunk as the heat cools.

Teeter back towards Lavapiés, and reload on those calories with some more local snacks. If you’re alone or in a couple, grab a table at Bar Melos and try the croquetas.

Day 2: All the art & a gilda girl tea

Start your second day in the heart of historic Madrid. Book yourself a walking tour from Plaza Mayor, and build in thirty minutes to enjoy the traditional square earlier in the day before it gets too crowded.

From here, take a 5-minute walk to the covered food market, Mercado de San Miguel. While this is not the cheapest spot in the city, it’s perfect for a grazing-style lunch; think gildas, croquetas, mini burgers, and a glass of something cold. My friend and I had great fun perusing the different stalls and oggling the giant fish.

Then, stop at Chocolatería San Ginés just outside for churros and thick hot chocolate.

In the afternoon, head to either Museo del Prado or Reina Sofía, whichever you missed yesterday. They’re about a 20-minute walk from Plaza Mayor, or a quick metro ride if it’s hot.

Trying to do both in one day is ambitious and, honestly, unnecessary. I personally loved the Museo del Prado for its classical and religious works, from Velázquez to Goya; they really give you a sense of Spain’s artistic heritage. Reina Sofía, on the other hand, was a joy because of its surrealist highlights; Dali, Miró, and Picasso really get the mind going!

Afterwards, what else – but more booze and food! Near the museum, there’s a cute side street with food stalls, including a place called La Consentida, where I enjoyed a happy hour washing an eclectic mix of gildas down with some rosé. This is a wonderful classic tapa, composed of a pickled Guindilla pepper, a salty anchovy fillet, and a green Manzanilla olive on a stick.

On the way back, detour to La Pizzateca for a pizza slice; once in Lavapiés, finish with ice cream from Gelato Artesanal.

Practical tips: Museums are free after 4pm (Reina Sofía) and 6pm (Prado Wed-Sat), so plan accordingly; weekdays are less crowded than weekends.

Day 3: Pastries and park walks

By day three, you might feel a little full and want to slow down, especially if you have a flight to catch.

Begin, again, with coffee in Lavapiés. I advocate for pastries from Acid Café, but there’s a lot of cute places to sit down, too. If you want to stay in the area, I’d recommend reading this article for a full list of things to do.

Eventually, make your way towards El Retiro Park near the Ibiza neighbourhood. Depending on where you’re starting, it’s roughly a 20–30 minute walk from the centre and worth doing on foot if you can.

Ibiza is a busy spot, but good for more local eateries. I stumbled upon Parador del Jamón, known for traditional sandwiches (less useful if you’re vegetarian, but very “Madrid”), and there are plenty of other casual spots around.

Retiro is where Madrid softens; tree-lined paths, rowboats, people reading in the shade – it’s less about sightseeing and more about just being there. Bring snacks, something to drink, and take your time. I was alone for this part of my trip, so put a podcast in, but it’s also lovely for a read in the sunshine. It’s a nice place to visit at golden hour.

Following your park walk, settle down somewhere nearby for more tapas and Sangria. If you’re back in Lavapies, grab a table outside La Inquilina for wine and some delicious gildas.

If you’re working remotely…

If you’re mixing travel with work (like I am), Madrid makes it easy. I liked La Bicicleta Café and Federal Café as relaxed spots to spend a few hours; good coffee, good atmosphere, and no pressure to rush. Be aware though, that lots of cafes in Lavapiés do not allow laptops.

Overall – Madrid is a feast for the mind and stomach

Madrid can even feel a little overwhelming due to its pace and scale, especially compared to smaller Spanish cities. But don’t write it off for a mini break. Give it a couple of days – wander a bit, eat well, sit in the sun – and it starts to click. And once it does, it’s very easy to see why people keep coming back.

If you’re looking for more Spring time city break ideas, why not read my piece about Copenhagen.

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

    As a headache took hold at the Grand Palace, I wondered if I’d made a mistake moving abroad.

    On the third day of my first-ever trip to Asia – having started a new chapter as a “digital nomad” at 32 – I awoke full of adrenalin and ready to see some other ‘must sees’ on my list.

    Equipped with snacks from the 7/11 – a backpackers’ sanctuary – I headed out toward a local market, dodging traffic at every turn.

    Suddenly, whilst approaching a railway track, I noticed a curious sight. Tucked along either side were small houses beneath the Expressway, and people were crossing the tracks and disappearing from view. Where are they going? I wondered.

    As I ventured further, it became clear that the place was quietly teeming with life. To my left, a family was sitting down for a meal; to my right, a man was gutting fish. It was a tiny community, living in a traffic sandwich.

    Life must be loud for this community under the expressway

    A fish restaurant alongside the railway track

    Bangkok – home to 11.4m people – is not a place where wealth is equally distributed. To think they were wedged beneath the underpass like this, with cars and mopeds on all sides and trains cutting through (I presume), demonstrates how crammed with people it is.

    Visiting the flower market

    Eventually, I found myself at Pak Khlong Talat, the city’s primary flower market, tucked into the Wang Burapha Phirom subdistrict. Unlike the railway community, this one I found in Condé Nast. Because sometimes you need a little guidance!

    I went in the late afternoon and watched the vendors setting up while people drifted through. Spotting yellow flowers (marigolds) everywhere, a quick Google revealed that they’re closely associated with Buddhism and the late King.

    You’ll find references to the monarchy all over Bangkok, and it appears central to Thai life.

    I learned how to say good morning (“sawatdee kha”) and we had a little tête-à-tête in broken English, between lots of smiling and cooing at the dogs and cats – luckily there’s only one language for cute!

    Insiders say to visit the flower market at 3am

    Word has it, the best time to come here is in the middle of the night, when the freshest blooms arrive. But it’s a great place to cool off during the day.

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    China Town and Khao San Road

    Toward nightfall, I headed to Chinatown for some chow. What did I fancy? I asked myself manoeuvring down the stalls. Scorpions? Crickets? I was (sort of) tempted to try the edible insects but didn’t want to get sick straight away.

    Scorpions, anyone?

    I eventually settled on some Chinese chive cakes followed by some “kanom krok” – little coconut pancakes.

    Locusts aside, if you’re vegetarian, you’ll find some decent options here, even though Asia is generally a pretty meat-heavy place.

    Delicious veggie dumplings in China Town

    By this point, it was getting a little late. But Bangkok buzzes at all times. Do I want to go to Khao San Road? I pondered, between mouthfalls. For the uninitiated, this is a famous street in Bangkok, known for its thriving nightlife.

    I truly did not, but knew I’d regret not seeing it. It wasn’t far away, so I hopped into my first colourful – and probably overpriced – TukTuk by the market, for around £7.

    The ride itself was great fun. But the strip at Khao San – not for me. I’ve always preferred to watch the Inbetweeners from behind a screen, not as a lived experience, so this was a good early lesson in trusting my instincts.

    The throng of drunk bodies in the heat was overwhelming, and I took nothing from it, save cooling down in the breeze from the TukTuk.

    Ever impressed by the public transport in Bangkok, I spared my lungs the Grab bike this time (although I was getting hooked on them!), and caught a bus all the way home.

    Visiting the Grand Palace

    By the next day, I needed some greenery.

    Bangkok might look and seem like a concrete jungle, but a third of the city is parkland, and I’d vowed to visit Lumpini Park and Bang Kachao, the so-called ‘Green Lung’ of Bangkok, for a bike ride.

    Unable to postpone my ‘flexible’ flight ticket to Chiang Mai, however, I panicked and decided to visit Bangkok’s famous temples instead: Grand Palace, Wat Pho and / or Wat Arun.

    I really hate when tourist attractions are rammed down my throat, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Grand Palace was a bit over-hyped. But I was in South East Asia, so it felt like an attraction I couldn’t miss.

    Wat did I think of them? It’s tricky. Religious Studies was my favourite subject at school, and I resonated strongly with the story and teachings of Buddhism. As a 15 year old, it was the first religion I’d encountered that didn’t seem to be predicated on power.

    I respect that they are culturally important and tried my best, in the heat, to take in the majesty of it all. But after a two hours, I was a little bored.

    Not just that, but – quite unsurprisingly – the place is hugely overcrowded. They don’t show you that on TikTok or Pinterest do they!

    Wat Pho is famous for the immense Reclining Buddha

    Reality check at the temples – they’re crowded!

    I wish I’d followed through with my first plan. Does this mean I lack depth? I thought with panic. Maybe. But who cares. Life’s short. There’s nothing wrong with chasing lizards in the park. They’re cool as hell!

    Monitor lizards roam the park and canal freely

    As a headache took hold, I learned my first lesson as a digital nomad: if I wanted to work and travel, I’d have to manage both my time and my energy levels properly. I was alone, in a foreign place, in a much hotter climate – that’s a lot to navigate on top of a job, and I hadn’t even got started yet.

    Sitting on the flight to Chiang Mai, clutching my carry on, I wondered – had I bitten off more than I could chew?

  • Dodging lizards in Bangkok – My first 24 hours as a nomad in Asia

    Having swapped life in London to work remotely abroad, what did the Thai capital have in store for me?

    At the end of 2024, I quit my corporate job in London after eight years in the capital, and started life as a digital nomad in Asia.

    It was thus that I found myself, two flights and 15 hours later, at Suvarnabhumi airport, Bangkok – freshly spray tanned, and braced for change.

    After having successfully withdrawn baht, updated my family, filled my water bottle and downloaded my e-sim, I had a full two to three days to explore the city before moving North to the town Chiang Mai, a well known nomad hot spot.

    I was staying in Asoke, right in the centre of the bustling mecca of Bangkok. It’s seriously busy – think wide streets laden with traffic – but a good location from which to see the main sights.

    I got lost a few times, but for once there was no tube to catch, no meeting or engagement to get to. Nor was I a backpacker on a shoestring budget or timeline. Why am I rushing to my hotel? I thought with a thrill. I have time to figure it out.

    As I traipsed through the streets with my rucsack, the heat started to wear a little, however. I was grateful that I’d limited myself to hand luggage only, packing just a few clothes and my refurbished MacBook Air – about the tiniest laptop ever made.

    When I arrived at the lovely Samala hotel – which was later damaged in an earthquake – I cooled off with a little visit to the pool, a Singha (Thai Beer), and after a short nap, contemplated what to do next.

    Snacks at Ruam Sab market

    First up, food of course. The benefit of being in the business district of Bangkok is that you’re never far from a decent market.

    I’d spotted Ruam Sab market on my way to the hotel, so journeyed back with my pockets jangling.

    Having done a bit of prep for my time abroad (thank you RetiredWorking4U), I knew this food court was where the local office workers came for lunch. As such, it was best to arrive early – especially as I wanted to look about and soak it all in.

    Vegetarians – look out for the yellow Je flag!

    Whilst I was seriously tempted by the deep fried bananas, I eventually settled for some Morning Glory (water spinach) with rice, and some kind of broth, lathered with a mix of chillies, soy and fish sauce, which is typical all over Thailand.

    Meat is eaten in the country, but veggie stalls sometimes have a yellow Je flag, which was a big help, as I don’t eat meat that often.

    Stomach full, I was ready to get out and explore.

    Touring Thonburi

    Nothing beats a tour for getting your bearings, and I’d already found a business online called Hidden Bangkok Tours led by a local chap born in the area.

    He runs boat trips in Thonburi, the quieter, more traditional part of Bangkok on the western side of the Chao Phraya River – the “city behind the Pagoda”, he said in one YouTube video.

    There’s no doubt social media can kill your brain, but one of the lovely takeaways is finding unusual activities you might not typically consider, like this one.

    Desperate to see some lizards, off I popped to Thonburi. As we journeyed through the khlong (canal) in our brightly coloured tail boat – right in the shadow of the giant golden Buddha, in fact – we had what I felt to me like a more authentic insight into the city.

    Before I arrived in Bangkok, all I could picture in my head was roads, wires, and hotels – which is accurate – but I was surprised to learn that it’s also lined with waterways. In fact, it’s at huge risk of climate change due to rising sea levels from the low-lying Chao Phraya delta.

    Until the late 19th century, the rivers served as the primary means of transportation for people and goods, earning it the nickname of “the Venice of the East”. Venice – in Thailand! Every day’s a school day.

    Our guide explained how the old wooden houses lining the canal were what most local Thais lived in, with many families still working directly on the river (although some were now Airbnbs).

    We met a couple of them, including a lady who’d sold fish on the river her whole life and, if I remember correctly, had funded her children’s university education with her earnings. I’m not sure how true this is, but either way, it’s a cool story.

    Shots from Thonburi, a riverside community located on the western banks of the Chao Phraya River

    Being over a century old, many of the properties – which were built on stilts – were beginning to fall into the river. Rebuilding requires official permission, which makes it difficult for residents to maintain them, although I didn’t get to the bottom of why such permission was difficult to secure, sadly.

    We then stopped for coffee at an adorable, centuries old wooden house called Baan Silapin, the “Artists’ Village”. It appeared that this was where the young Thai’s hung out, and I spotted a couple on a date feeding catfish by the water – as you do.

    All the colours at Baan Silapin “Artists’ Village”

    Others – a mix of locals and tourists – were painting in the cafes, observing the local art, picking up trinkets, and generally slowing down. It wasn’t overcrowded, and felt a bit hipster – like a slower, hotter, Hackney Wick. Without the beanies (thankfully).

    After the intensity of Asoke, this was a refreshing change of pace – a chance to see a side of Bangkok that I suspect often gets missed.

    Do make time for a visit here if you need to unwind from the city.

    There’s no need to get a tour, but it certainly adds context and colour. Importantly, I learned how to say Bangkok in Thai – possibly the longest word ever said – check it out:

    Trying my first Khao Soi

    After my cultural baptism, what else, but more food? Bloggers advised I try Pad Krapao or Khao Soi, a noodle soup in a curry broth, topped with crispy fried noodles. I was keen to work out if I could find vegetarian versions, so later caught the bus down to the thriving Vadhana District in central Bangkok.

    Having been kindly directed to the right stop by a group of local ladies who’d teamed up to ensure I didn’t get lost, I found – by chance – a little place called Zong Peep, serving tofu Khao Soi. I promptly tucked into a huge bowl and a coke for the price of about £3. It was a delicious mix of salt and spice.

    Khao Soi is one of the best loved dishes in Thailand

    Belly full once again, I was pretty shattered and ready to hit the sheets. Do you know the way to Samala? I asked a security guard at a nearby hotel. My mate will take you, he said, shouting over to a guy on a moped.

    Better not add this to my stories, I thought, knowing my Mum was watching. But no time to dwell. I pulled the helmet on and off we went, slithering down Sukhumvit in a game of real-life Mario Kart.

    Back at the hotel I dived under the covers and set my alarm for an early start. Contrary to my parents’ expectations, I hadn’t been killed, kidnapped or poisoned – so all in all, a great first day.

    My first moped ride of the trip

  • What Australia’s tiny penguins taught me about home

    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.*

  • Why nomads shouldn’t sleep on Siem Reap

    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!

  • Is Luang Prabang better than Chiang Mai for digital nomads?

    Why this Laotian town is an unexpected delight.

    After giving up full-time work in the UK in early 2025, I travelled around South East Asia for two and a half months as a freelancer, spending time in a number of well-known digital nomad hubs across Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam.

    Because of its long-established digital nomad scene, Chiang Mai in northern Thailand was a place I was particularly interested in visiting. It’s often held up as one of the best cities in the region for remote work, so I arrived with fairly high expectations.

    But despite spending a week there, I didn’t find myself overly impressed with it (read this blog to find out why).

    From Chiang Mai, I crossed the Thai–Laos Friendship Bridge into Laos and spent three days doing the Gibbon Experience in Nam Kan national park. After an intense and memorable few days in the jungle, I needed to knuckle down again and get some work done, so I took a slow boat down the Mekong River towards the town of Luang Prabang.

    Having not really planned this leg of the trip, I arrived with zero expectations, but was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed Luang Prabang – and would even argue that it’s more desirable for digital nomads than Chiang Mai.

    Firstwhere is Laos and what’s Luang Prabang like?

    Laos is the long thin country between Thailand and Vietnam. It was part of French Indochina from the late 1800s to the 1950s, and very heavily bombed in the 60s by the US. As a result, the country is pretty poor, and still deeply affected by unexploded ordnance.

    You won’t see that in Luang Prabang, however. Here, the mix of French and local influence gives the town a very distinct feel. It’s very pretty with its leafy avenues, low-rise temples, and colourful wooden houses, in a way that I really didn’t expect after a 48 hour ride down the Mekong.

    The town has a quiet, leisurely vibe (typical of Laos), with lots of cute french-style bakeries and Laotian markets and eateries. I spent five days or so working from the cafes, having massages, and doing yoga. On the additional days, I visited Kuang Si Waterfall, and took a two day excursion to the towns of Nong Khiaw and Muang Ngoi (details on all that, to come).

    Comparison to Chiang Mai?

    One of the reasons Chiang Mai is consistently ranked as one of Southeast Asia’s top digital nomad hubs, is due to its fast and reliable internet (often cited at 100–300 Mbps), large established nomad community, and abundance of coworking spaces and long-stay accommodation.

    In Luang Prabang, average internet speeds are significantly slower (often cited at under 10 Mbps), and the remote-worker community is small and informal (i.e. not organised around coworking hubs).

    But if you prioritise calm, beauty and balance over infrastructure and networking, Luang Prabang might appeal to you more. Having spent a week in both places, Luang Prabang felt far less busy, and like it hadn’t been manufactured for tourists. I had an easy time taking video calls, sending emails and uploading and downloading word documents.

    I didn’t make an effort to investigate the long-term situation (e.g. Facebook groups etc), but did see and overhear a lot of people speaking English on calls and using their laptops. Overall, my Reddit research suggests Luang Prabang is becoming more popular with digital nomads, but it does not appear to be swamped by them.

    My recommendations

    Luang Prabang is the kind of place where you’ll leave feeling you left no stone unturned, which I personally enjoy. Here’s what I tried and loved there:

    Excursions

    Nong Khiaw and Pha Daeng Peak – this was one of my absolute highlights in Laos, second to the Gibbon Experience. The village is based a few hours north from Luang Prabang, on the Nam Ou river, and is famous for its Jurassic Park worthy karst mountains. You can climb the Pha Daeng Peak viewpoint relatively quickly (although it is very tiring!) and – if on a tour – sleep at the top to catch the sunset and sunrise. If you’re lucky, you’ll wake up at 6am to see a magnificent cloud inversion hugging the cliff top. Word of warning though, I nearly froze to death at the top (in March) – so bring layers clothes for night time.

    Muang Ngoi – this is another, smaller village just down the river from Nong Khiaw. Whilst tourists can and do go there, it’s very traditional. You can only get there by boat which controls tourist traffic. That’s why it’s so charming. I went as part of a group trip that included an overnight stay in a home stay. We ended up having *quite a few* beers and playing petanque with the residents, and it became one of my more memorable nights out, that’s for sure! The beer could really be felt the next day, as our guide took us for another hike up the cliff (in his flip flops) and we almost passed away at the top.

    Kuang Si Waterfall – this is an incredible multi-tiered waterfall about 29km south of Luang Prabang. You can share a tuktuk to the waterfront pretty easily. It’s one of those Instagram spots that attracts a lot of tourists and posers, sadly. But if you arrive at around 4pm, just before closing, most people will have gone and you can use the hour to swim and take photos. As far as natural waterfalls go, this is one you won’t want to miss.

    Cafés and restaurants

    Essential experiences for every tourist or nomad, and Luang Prabang really delivered on this front. Some of my favourites from the week included:

    • Saffron Coffee – right on the Mekong, great for a slow morning, and laptop friendly
    • Two Little Birds – a delicious vegan spot
    • Atsalin Restaurant – excellent mix of local food. Laos is so cheap, just order it all (I ended up sharing it with a girl next to me and we had a nice chinwag)

    Spas

    To get a facial for under £40 is impossible in the UK, so I treated myself every week pretty much, whilst in Asia! Highlights from Luang Prabang include:

    • MK Spa – This was a great little spa. I had a massage and body scrub. It was very affordable and really well done
    • KHMU Spa – More central. I had a decent massage here, and there’s a little heritage house next door worth popping into

    Prices range from £8-15.

    Yoga

    I tried two studios:

    • Yoga Grasshopper Yoga
    • Luang Prabang Yoga

    Both felt modern, and were run by Europeans. They had full schedules, with cafés attached and regular events so I imagine it would be a nice place to make friends.

    Nightlife

    There’s not much of a clubbing vibe in Luang Prabang, but the cocktail bars are genuinely lovely. I went for drinks with a friend at Sisavangvong Road, which is perfect for a chilled evening and felt like a classy ‘strip’.

    If you’re backpacking, there’s also a weirdly famous bowling alley that everyone goes to at night. It sounds odd, but it was actually pretty fun and a nice change from the basic backpacker bars.

    Final Thoughts

    I wouldn’t say Luang Prabang is unmissable; but if you have the time and leisure, you won’t regret adding it to your itinerary – especially if you’re travelling from North to South Laos (or vice versa).

    Prepare for a few days of good coffee, pampering, peaceful (and modest) temples, and easy trips into some of the most beautiful scenery in Southeast Asia.

    It’s calm, welcoming, and – for me – was the perfect place to catch up on work and recover following the Gibbon Experience in Huay Xai. And did I mention the pastries?

  • I swapped London for nomad life in Asia. Was it worth it?

    In early 2025, I left London and headed to Southeast Asia to see what life was really like as a digital nomad. One year on, was it worth it?

    FEBRUARY 24, 2026 WOMEN MEETS WORLD

    I recently read a BBC interview with Julie Williams, an IT consultant from Birkdale on Merseyside. She had decided to make a ball pit in her spare room, rather than rent it. Why? For fun. ‘You can never be sad in a ball pit.’

    Stories like this are important because they remind you of your free will. Julie’s is especially unique because the ball pit came at the expense of financial gain.

    For most people, that’s just not the default position – whether they need the cash or not.

    I found myself thinking a lot about free will when I turned 30. I’ve never really clung to traditional milestones (house, baby, marriage, divorce), and count climbing out of credit card debt as the maturest moment in my adult life to date.

    But the flood of birthday invites from friends – right before the hen dos – gave me pause to reflect. Was I happy? Had I challenged myself enough? Was I excited about the next decade?

    Who am I?

    Not to get too Lewis Carroll about it, but this last question was the catalyst for me in late 2024. In a way, I felt that I didn’t know myself anymore, or at least not all the versions of myself – just the city-shaped, university-fied version. And she was restless.

    Meanwhile, semi-remote work in London had become my new normal. The days of spilling out to the pub every week with colleagues had gone. I had a lovely team in my PR job, but rotating schedules meant it took too long to get past the pleasantries.

    People generally – and I include myself in this – seem to have become more protective of their time since I moved to London in 2017 (and perhaps all over the country).

    I don’t think this is a bad thing. Hell, if you’re going to replace me with AI, at least give me another 30 minutes in bed / to read to my kids / paint / write / support a charity / or stare into the abyss.

    Having one foot in, one foot out, however, began to wear on me amidst the rising cost of living in the capital. I still considered myself a creative and curious person, but did I really want my days to be defined by the price of flat whites and whether a Soho House membership was cost effective?

    I take comfort from water cooler culture as much as everyone else, so I’m not bashing these things – they’re part of the fun.

    But when I found myself googling ‘Martin Lewis wife’, something had to give.

    Was it burnout? I’m not sure. But in need of a change of scene and some inspiration, I decided to give this digital nomad lark a go, beginning with three months in South East Asia in early 2025.

    Who knew what would happen after that. But I’d work less, and live more, often with strangers – which would at least break me out of my comfort zone.

    I’m not alone in seeing the attraction of nomadism, especially if your job allows it. According to a report by CV builder website LiveCareer UK, an estimated 165,000 UK professionals have relocated abroad to work remotely in recent years, seduced by better weather and (they hope) greater work-life balance.

    Some roam around, as I did, making the most of the opportunity to see the world. Others seek stability in well-established hotspots that offer structured visa policies, tax incentives and ready-made communities.

    To cut a long story short, I didn’t end up moving permanently abroad. But I did see a lot of cool things, regain a sense of direction, and create a stable freelance set up that now allows me to travel whenever and wherever I want, whilst keeping roots in the UK (which is how I like it).

    Giving up a normal routine has not been without its challenges – anyone that’s become a nomad, travelled alone, or even that’s relocated will agree with that, I’m sure. But between the relentlessly positive portrayals of nomadism on social media and the often sceptical narratives found in the UK press, there is a lot of middle ground.

    As a thirty-something experiencing this lifestyle for the first time, I hope this blog provides a balanced account of what it’s really like as work and life become increasingly flexible and multihyphenated.

    Happy reading.

    Chiang Mai, Thailand (February 2025)

    Blue Mountains, Sydney, Australia (April 2025)

    Porto, Portugal (September 2025)

    Moffat, Scotland (December 2025)

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