Why I'm Going Nomad - Scuba Scribbles

Last Updated on August 30, 2024 by Candice Landau

Writing this post feels a bit daunting because I’m about to embark on a journey that could either be life-changing or a huge drain on time and money. Either way, it’s happening. By sharing my experience openly, I hope you’ll gain something from it—whether it’s advice, inspiration, or just the chance to live vicariously through what might seem like a stressful lifestyle! To round out the journey, I’ll be taking along a boyfriend, a cat, a car, and a lot of dive gear.

Zola scrambles from her carrier to the top of a pile of blankets. Don’t worry she got put back in before the drive began.

Searching for more

I gave Orlando two years to win me over. In the end I still wanted more. Stephen agreed, even pushing the plan forward when I had my doubts.

For those of you who like or live in Orlando, don’t get me wrong, it has its charms: proximity to crystal clear springs, a variety of plant-based food options, and a few good breweries.

The best froses can be found in Winter Park at the Wine Room.

For me, however, the drawbacks were greater. I wasn’t near the ocean or diving—essential for someone working in the dive industry. The flat landscape lacked the mountains and forests I love. The heat and humidity made it impossible to exercise, leading to weight gain and a loss of fitness.

Instead of growing on me, Orlando started to wear me down. The live oaks and Spanish moss were lovely, but I’m not a theme park person (excluding the Wizarding World of Harry Potter), I don’t enjoy long drives to dive or teach diving, and there were no vineyards or good hilly hikes. I hadn’t wanted to leave Washington State in the first place—my boss at the time asked me to—and Florida’s future looked increasingly bleak: Tropical storms were intensifying, insurance companies (including mine) were leaving, and the politics were not my speed.

Stephen didn’t love it either. Though he grew up in Texas and was used to staying indoors during the summer, he had since lived in places like Oregon and Washington State, where outdoor activities were still enjoyable, even in August. Suburban living didn’t suit him. While there were some nice areas to visit (downtown Winter Park, Lake Eola, and Baldwin Park), Orlando lacked a cohesive vibe. Getting anywhere took time, and the few areas with character were small and spread out. The busy airport, filled with families and screaming kids, made traveling stressful. It wasn’t what we’d hoped for.

The only one who seemed to prefer Orlando over the Pacific Northwest was our cat Zola. She basked in the sunroom for hours, lazily watching birds and squirrels. She played with lizards, ate moths, and watched in horrified fascination as we chased down cockroaches in our 1950s rental.

When it came time to renew the lease, we both knew we wanted more. Out of where we lived, and out of how we experienced the world.

But why nomad?

A meeting-free day might include working out of a cafe and enjoying the sun.

Well, why not? When you don’t have kids, when you have remote jobs, when you aren’t tied down by friends and family, or a community, why the heck not? Why wait until retirement or an annual vacation? Furthermore, there are so many states and countries we’ve yet to see. Why settle until you’ve found the one you love?

I suspect someone like me never truly settles, but what better way to make an informed decision about a great place to live, at least stateside, than to check it out first without a house-load of junk?

For now, nomading abroad isn’t feasible—not if I want to keep Zola healthy. At 15, she’s already skinnier than I’d like, despite being fed a dozen times a day. She’s dealing with the typical issues of an aging cat: teeth problems, thyroid issues, and kidney concerns. A move abroad would terrify her and likely be too much for her to handle, especially if the stress caused her to stop eating. Thankfully, she travels well in a car. Even then we’ll try to make the moves manageable, breaking up longer drives with nights in Airbnbs.

So, where to first?

We chose Asheville as our starting point because so many people have recommended it. While it’s not the dive mecca I’ll be seeking in future stays, it should help with my fitness slump. There will be a lot of walking and hiking! Plus, it’s supposed to have an amazing food scene with plenty of plant-based options and dozens of microbreweries to explore.

Although it took a long time to get everything packed and into storage, the relief of having less is already palpable. I’ll miss my physical books (insert a hundred crying emojis here) but I’m sure I’ll figure out how to adapt to Kindle.

Next time, I’ll share more about how the packing process went, our storage solutions, and how we set up a legitimate Florida-based mailbox. I’ll also let you know which dive gear I brought with me—trust me, it’s a lot. I’m not limiting myself to warm water sites either. After all, I’m a cold water diver at heart. Bring on Michigan. Bring on Maine. Bring on the glorious cold that only a real sub-60-degree Fahrenheit diver would understand.