After 6 years of nomadic living, here's what I know to be true

Plus, an iconic Australian ocean soundscape, with kangaroos!

I’m too stressed to be nervous or question what we’re doing. It’s June 2019 and I’m habitually clutching my belly, as new mums do, winding our oversized vehicle through the overpacked streets of Sydney. I want to cry, but I’m exhausted. I glance behind me to check on my five-month-old, blissfully unaware of the chaos. As we cruise over the city overpass we get a full view of the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge. A wave of possibility washes over me. I taste freedom.

The bus is packed to the brim. We sold most of our belongings, the rest packed into my Dad’s storage unit. In the frenzy of moving out of our Eastern suburbs rental, we didn’t have time to move into our new bus-home. We have no bed inside, just the rooftop tent. The bus wasn’t ready for adventure. But we were, so…

A couple of hours into our maiden voyage—we’re en route to visit my family in Queensland and properly organise ourselves—we take an off-ramp a little too aggressively, and everything that’s loose goes flying. I spin around to see my beloved houseplant slide off the kitchen counter and explode on the floor, damp soil infiltrating our belongings.

We pull over. Baby is sleeping, thank god. I begin sweeping up the mess and finally I cry, as I release weeks of anticipation and stress. We’re doing the dang thing (!) and also what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?¹

Our winter camp set-up in regional New South Wales, June 2025

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Truth #1: Secure your belongings at all times (but don’t be too attached)

Over the past six years of bus and global travel, we have had countless items broken, lost and stolen. In our bus, everything has a home, and in our suitcases and carry-ons, everything has a place. Keeping things minimal and organised unlocks nomadic bliss. We have a mental pre-departure checklist—everything off the benches, latch the cupboards, close the windows and roof hatch…

It’s November 2020 and we have Tasmania relatively to ourselves while its borders are still locked down—our three-month Summer visit to the island-state turned into ten unique (and chilly) months, thanks to the pandemic. Spirits are high as we cruise along a quiet coastal road on the morning of my birthday. An almighty crack and bang break the relaxed silence. What the F was that? I jump up, wind rushing in. “Babe, we forgot to close the roof hatch!” Embarrassed, we turn the bus around to go retrieve our smashed perspex hatch from the side of the road. Oops.

But no matter how organised you are, glass jars rattle on rough roads and eventually give way, headphones get stolen out of backpacks on deserted beaches (that one’s still a mystery), and shoes, bikes and favourite picnic rugs get left behind. Sometimes you back into a concrete block or side-swipe a hut in the French Alps, tearing a hole in your roof. It’s simply best not to get too attached, nor own shiny new things.

Truth #2: Humans are more adaptable than we give ourselves credit for

Did you know that you won’t die if you don’t shower every day? I didn’t.

I love a good hot shower, and when I’m living in a house, I wonder how I will survive without my daily dose of steam. But then we hit the road, so busy exploring and parenting, that it’s often not until day four that I feel a desperate need for a deep clean. (Side note: we’re usually swimming in the ocean or fresh water holes every day, and we do have an outdoor cold shower to rinse off.)

When living a “normal” life, it’s hard to imagine living without creature comforts and luxuries like a flushing toilet, hot water or appliances. “I can’t live without…” is fluid, unique to the individual, and should be reviewed regularly.

It was late 2023 when we returned to our bus after 18 months in Europe. I learned that a low-wattage travel rice cooker existed. After four years of making do, and deep in the throes of toddler parenting, I decided it was time to upgrade my kitchen. It might be the most loved rice cooker on the planet.

In simplifying my life, I’ve found it more productive (and interesting) to first go without, before deciding whether something is a non-negotiable.

Minimising your life isn’t something you just do once. Even now, especially as our family grows, I have to constantly revisit what we do and don’t need. It’s a cyclical practice of self-reflection, culling and pragmatic acquisition of goods.

Truth #3: Have a plan, but be prepared for side-quests

We embarked on a “12-month” lap of Australia. A pandemic, a redundancy, a second child, a European lemon-of-a-motorhome, a year living in Germany, and many unexpected adventures later, here we are. Six years on, we’re finally outgrowing our humble bus-home.

I knew deep in my soul that we wouldn’t return to city life. But I had no idea how weird and wonderful our little family would become, and that nomadic living would unlock something deeply primal in us—allowing us to make big life decisions based on instinct, not societal pressures. And that I would end up living the life I dreamed of while sitting in my fluorescent office wondering if I was allowed to trade my heels for hiking boots.

We can’t plan for everything. We learn to trust ourselves, our guts, our wisdom and experience, and then take a leap of faith, working it out along the way.

Truth #4: You can’t run away from your problems, but…

You can create an environment that’s more conducive to working on your sht.

Travelling in a small space with your significant other and offspring is like living with a permanent mirror held up to your ego. There’s not much space to fester—you must air your grievances.

Despite what it looks like to the untrained eye, travelling isn’t running away from our problems. It helps us meet ourselves over and over again. We view ourselves from different perspectives and peel away the layers that no longer serve us. Each chapter has been a gift, whether I was high on adventure or clawing my way out of the dark.

When we started out, I carried a lot of resistance and fear around things going awry. Now, when we reminisce about the hiccups and hard times, we realise they’re woven into the fabric of our biggest adventures and fondest memories.

I’ll leave you with my latest Nature Immersion - an ocean soundscape filmed at one of my favourite headlands in New South Wales, Emerald Beach. Pop it on for a relaxing 30 minutes of ocean sounds, incredible coastal views, and of course, kangaroos!

Stay curious and kind,
Simone

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In case you missed some of my latest posts:

🌿 A month in the life of a nomad mum

🌿 How does one participate mindfully in society (including a 5-minute guided nature meditation to help you reconnect to Earth and self)

1. Please read this essay within context. My writing comes from the perspective of a privileged white Australian who chooses to live a simple, low-cost, nomadic lifestyle. Many of the unusual challenges we face, are a fact of life for so many humans on this Earth. My intention is neither to romanticise nor dehumanise people who go without, not by choice but by forces outside of their control. I sincerely believe that when we have the opportunity to lower our footprint and simplify, we should make an effort to do so, for the health of our planet and wellbeing.