Frequently Asked Questions

New York City is basecamp for me. That’s where I lived before the pandemic, and it’s where I store my few remaining possessions. The fact that there are three international airports makes it a very natural travel hub for me.

It’s rare for me to spend more than two weeks in one place. After 3 years of nomad life, these are the countries in which I’ve spent the most time:

Colombia, 59 days

Costa Rica, 58 days

Switzerland, 55

Dominican Republic, 40

Norway, 38

Vietnam 26

Greece 22

Guatemala 21

India 20

I don't have many things. I sold everything except my camera gear, some sentimental stuff and recreational equipment. The few things I have left all fit inside a small storage unit in Brooklyn. I go there between destinations to pick up and drop off whatever I need. Ironically, every time I’m there I'm struck by the question: why do I still have so much stuff?

Nope. I have no van, no car, nor any consistent means of transportation.

However I can --planes, trains, buses, carpool, tuk-tuks, etc. I travel with only two bags at a time, which is just as freeing as it is limiting.

I’m a freelance travel and event photographer, so a lot of my travels are work-related. I also design photo books, which I can do from anywhere.

Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.

It starts with embracing uncertainty. I trust that everything is going to work out, and I use my wits and resources as best I can. The rest is a mystery, and that’s usually where the adventure is found.

Yes, but I have conditions:

1.) You pay your own way. I’m not rich enough to be anyone’s sugar daddy.

2.) No complaining. I won’t tolerate a lousy attitude.

3.) No panicking. It only makes a tough situation worse.

Absolutely! Work is the number one thing that determines my travels.

You can always find my current location here, but if you want a more interactive Stephen Tracker I’d be happy to share my real-time location with you; just drop me a line. My hope is that this will lead to more opportunities to connect with others nearby, wherever we may be.

The list is always growing, but those details can be found on the Destinations page.

Iceland, but can we please acknowledge how un-original this question is? Instead, try one of the "Questions I wish people would ask" below.

South Dakota. Not only does it have no state income tax, but it’s also very friendly toward full-time travelers. It took some effort to make it my domicile, but it’s worth it in the long run.

I pay for my own health insurance in the U.S. (yay for self-employment). When I’m out of the country I get a World Nomads policy. If I need to see a doctor, I’ll find one.

There are three main factors: Work, Goals, and Invitations. Most of my travel is determined by where I get hired for a shoot. If there's no pressing work then I'll look at my Bucket List and see what I can accomplish. Thirdly, I make a point to visit friends and acquaintances who have invited me to crash at their place or spend time in their city.

I don't always know in advance, but I keep some ideas on my calendar.

Yes, a lot of them actually. You can find them here.

No, I miss my La-Z-boy. I'm legitimately fine sleeping in different places often, but the thing I miss most is my rocking chair. For years, my La-Z-boy was "home," and now I have to find new rhythms that feel comforting to me.

Indefinitely. The idea of paying rent to stay in the same place feels less interesting to me right now than riding the wave of travel. Eventually I’ll probably land back in NYC, but I’m not in a hurry.

I don’t know. I’ve imagined moving back to New York City since I left, but at this point I’m okay not having an answer to this question.

I lost all of my work because of the pandemic, there was virtually nothing to do in New York, and I could no longer afford to live there. The only option that seemed interesting to me was to pursue a nomadic lifestyle, trying to find work and adventure wherever I could.

My family never really visited me during the seven years I lived in NYC. So my being gone all the time is not really a drastic change for them. My dad once asked how he would know if my body were found frozen on the side of a mountain some day. Aside from an "in case of emergency" note in my journal, I don't really have an answer for that.

Fortunately for me, English is the language of tourism. Of course there are times when I encounter people who don’t speak any English, and that’s when a smile, patience, and body language helps a lot! If that doesn’t work, there’s always Google Translate ;)

The most surprising thing for me is how little time I’ve had alone. Working for clients, visiting friends, and staying in hostels are all inherently social. Introvert time is honestly difficult to come by.

Maintaining relationships. Travel romances are amazing, but it’s often hard to navigate the inevitable separation, especially when it felt so meaningful to connect in the first place. Additionally, every one of my friendships became long-distance instantly. As a result, I feel like I have a ton of acquaintances, and two very close people, but no one in between.

Home is a state of mind. For me, there are external parts like a scented candle, a bluetooth speaker, fresh flowers, and my journal; but there are also internal things like presence, gratitude, and reflection. It’s more about feeling settled, regardless of the geographic or domestic circumstances. I’ve felt at home in a hostel, on a bike, in the woods, on a snowboard, under a waterfall, etc…

I miss having meaningful, rich conversations. When I chat with friends now it’s usually filled with catching up, rehashing the same shallow conversation I’ve had over and over. “Where have you been? What’s your favorite place? Where are you going next?…” Meanwhile I’m starved for quality, deep connection.

I guess I miss feeling seen and known.

I also miss hosting gatherings in my home. I miss being part of a community.

I miss having a sock drawer, hangers, a desk, a second monitor.

There are plenty of things:

Resting on the road - Long term travel is a short road to burnout if I don’t take time to rest, recharge, and catch up on life stuff. Unlike a typical trip, there is no end point when I can rest at home, so I have to incorporate these practices while I’m on the road. This often means leaving places un-explored, waves un-surfed, and fresh powder un-shredded; but it’s the only way I’ve learned to sustain travel long-term.

Traveling to be alone - Adventures are more memorable when they’re shared, but time spent alone is vital. Honestly, the way I get time to myself now is to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone.

Asking and speaking directly - Everybody seems to have different ideas of how I spend my days, but this often leads to ambiguity and missed opportunities. Speaking up and asking pointed questions is just as valuable as speaking the local language.

Normal is an illusion - Everyone has different values and ideas of how things should be.

Unprepared is totally okay - Every time I go to the airport I feel like I’m forgetting something. That feeling never goes away. I’ve just learned to live with it.

I value my alone time more.

I don’t read books as much.

I am very comfortable with uncertainty.

I am cutthroat about the things I own/keep.

I don’t have many friends, but a ton of acquaintances all over the world.

I feel forgetful about people, places, and experiences —they blur together now.

It’s easier for me to spend a month in Asia than a weekend in Colorado.

I have a Piper.