We Sold Everything To Travel Around The World And Have Visited 63 Countries So Far, Here Are Our Best Moments

We did it. We traded our couch for a carry-on, our dining table for plastic forks on night trains, and our storage unit for a tiny digital folder called “Important Docs.” After yard sales, teary goodbyes, and a gleeful airport sprint that could qualify as light cardio, we’ve now wandered through 63 countries. What follows are the best snapshots, lessons, and laugh-out-loud travel misadventures from a life spent chasing sunsets and street foodplus a practical guide to help you do it, too.

How We Actually Sold It All (and Why We’d Do It Again)

We didn’t wake up one day and casually toss our belongings to the wind like confetti. We made a spreadsheet: what to sell, what to donate, what to keep. The “keep” list fit in two backpacks, a hard drive, and a folder of documents. Ditching the clutter did more than fund our ticketsit decluttered the mental shelf space we now fill with language slip-ups, sunrise alarms, and conversations with taxi drivers who end up becoming our best tour guides.

The Packing Philosophy That Saved Our Backs

We pack light enough to jog up hostel stairs, but not so light that our selfies look like we’ve been wearing the same shirt since the Bronze Age. Our baseline: a small wardrobe that can be hand-washed in a sink, shoes that can conquer cobblestones and airport sprints, and a tech pouch that keeps adapters, cables, and power banks from staging an uprising. An easy rule of thumb: build a repeatable “travel uniform” that layers, launders, and looks decent in photos.

Best Moments From 63 Countries (In No Particular Order Because Joy Doesn’t Rank)

1) Hot Air Balloons at Dawn

There’s a hush right before sunrise when the world seems to hold its breath. We watched dozens of balloons drift over honey-colored valleys while a sleepy dog decided our blanket was community property. Coffee cooled, hearts warmed.

2) Night Market Science

We performed extensive peer-reviewed research on skewers, noodles, and mysterious neon desserts that may or may not have contained jelly, coconut, and bliss. Verdict: Nobel Prize, please.

3) Glacier Silence

When you’re standing near ancient ice, even your thoughts whisper. We learned humility therethe kind you can’t buy, only borrow for a day.

4) Sleeper Trains and Soft-Boiled Eggs

A conductor punched our tickets with the gravity of a surgeon. We fell asleep to rail-song and woke to tea, triumphantly alive and only mildly crumpled.

5) Rooftop Rain in a Megacity

We danced on a rooftop during a sudden downpour while a skyline blinked in approval. Somewhere, a noodle shop stayed open late for us. Bless them.

6) Tiny Museums, Giant Stories

The best museum we ever visited was smaller than our old garage. It held hand-written labels, a volunteer guide with hidden-gem energy, and a story about a city that kept rebuilding.

7) Wrong Bus, Right Village

We got lost, obviously. A grandmother shoved fruit into our hands and sent us off with a scolding that translated to, “Eat more. Also, map next time.”

8) A Market Where Cats Were Security Staff

Stall cats inspected our purchases with grave professionalism. We passed.

9) A Beach With More Stars Than Sand

Bioluminescence lapped at our ankles. The universe winked; we winked back.

10) The Day We Ate Like Locals

No menus, just a chef who pointed at ingredients and told jokes with a ladle. We left full of soup and new vocabulary.

11) Mountains That Redefined “Up”

We hiked above the cloud line and discovered our lungs speak fluent complaint. The view bribed them into silence.

12) An Old Library That Smelled Like Thunderstorms

We turned pages that had outlived empires. Time travel, no DeLorean required.

13) A Spice Lesson From a Stranger

We learned the difference between heat and flavor from a cook who wielded cumin like poetry.

14) Cold Plunge, Warm Bread

After a glacial lake dip (why?), we were handed bread, cheese, and laughter by people who understood that hospitality is the world’s common language.

15) Northern Lights on a Tuesday

The sky put on a private concert. We forgot every password we’ve ever used and remembered every person we love.

How We Travel Smart (So We Can Keep Going)

Health First, Bragging Rights Second

Before big trips, we talk to a travel-savvy clinician, check our routine vaccinations, and plan any destination-specific shots well in advance. We also carry a simple wellness kit and follow common-sense food and water habits. Jet lag? We hydrate, tweak our schedule a bit before flying east or west, and sync to local time as soon as we land.

Airport Security Without Tears

Our carry-on liquids live in one quart-size bag, travel-size containers at the ready. Snacks are solid (sorry, soup). Laptops and e-readers accessible. Shoes that slip off without an interpretive dance. We treat security like choreographypractice makes painless.

Driving Overseas: Know Before You Go

Some countries ask for an international driving permit. We sort that paperwork at home, double-check license validity dates, and keep digital and paper copies of everything (including a spare set of passport photos) in a secure folder. Bonus: a tiny translation booklet has rescued many a car-rental counter conversation.

Pack Like a Pro (Without Looking Like a Backpack)

• Create a modular wardrobe: neutral base, a pop of color, layers for cold planes and surprise mountaintops.
• Commit to a “tech drawer” pouch: adapters, power banks, cables, SIM tool, and a spare USB stick.
• Adopt a laundry rhythm: quick-dry fabrics, a sink-wash kit, and a celebratory espresso while your clothes drip-dry.

Points, Miles, and Free Croissants

We learned the language of loyalty programsearning on groceries and bills, redeeming for long-haul flights, and pooling points for off-season stays. Award searches can be a puzzle, but when a business-class seat costs fewer points than a fancy blender, you cackle like a cartoon villain all the way to boarding.

Travel Insurance: The Most Boring Thing We’re Grateful For

We treat insurance like a helmet for our itinerary. We review medical and evacuation coverage limits, glance at pre-existing condition clauses, and confirm what’s covered (and what’s not). It’s the thing we hope to never use and the thing that lets us relax enough to enjoy a cliffside sunset.

Travel Kindly (Sustainability You Can Feel)

• Go slower: fewer flights, longer stays, deeper connections.
• Respect places: follow local rules, stay on durable surfaces outdoors, pack out what you bring in.
• Spend locally: choose family-run stays, markets, and guides.

The Hard Days (And How We Handle Them)

Jet lag & burnout: Hydrate; sunlight in the morning; naps that don’t become comas. Stomach woes: Hand-wash early and often; stick to bottled/sealed drinks when required; carry oral rehydration salts. Paperwork panics: We scan passports, visas, and prescriptions into a secure cloud folder, and share emergency contacts with family. Loneliness: We schedule “friend calls” like flights and say yes to hostel dinners and free walking tours. Connection is fuel.

Our Favorite “Micro-Wins” That Keep Long-Term Travel Magical

• A tiny fold-flat tote bag saves you from plastic mountain and carries snacks with dignity.
• Photograph the bus timetable; it vanishes when you need it most.
• Learn “please,” “thank you,” and “this is delicious” in every language; doors swing open.
• Sunrise beats sunset nine times out of ten. Fewer people. Same glow.
• Always ask the hotel for a business cardhandy for taxi drivers and your future self.

What 63 Countries Taught Us About “Home”

Home is a backpack hook, a favorite coffee mug in a rented kitchen, a street where the fruit seller knows your name after three mornings. Home is your partner’s shoulder on a bus with no suspension. Home is a recipe you trade for a story you’ll retell for years. We sold everything, and somehow ended up with more.

Conclusion

If you’re hovering over the “book” button with equal parts terror and thrill, take our very biased advice: make a plan, do your homework, pack lighter than you think, and go. The world is bigger, kinder, tastier, and weirder than any screen can show you. You don’t have to see 63 countries to prove anything. Start with one. Start with the nearest train. Start with sunrise tomorrow.

sapo: Two backpacks. Sixty-three countries. Hundreds of small miracles. In this long-form guide, we share our funniest misadventures and most moving memoriesballoons at dawn, village feasts, trains that singplus practical, no-fluff advice on health prep, packing light, airport security, points and miles, travel insurance, and sustainable choices. If you’re tempted to sell your stuff and roam (or just want a smarter two-week itinerary), this is your friendly, experience-tested roadmap to traveling farther, lighter, and kinder.

Bonus: of Extra Experience (What We’d Tell You Over Coffee)

People ask what we’d do differently. Truthfully? We’d start slower. Our first six months looked like a montagenew city every three days, high-fiving our past selves for efficiency while our future selves quietly Googled “burnout symptoms.” When we finally tried slow travel, everything changed. We spent two weeks in a small coastal town where the baker knew our order by day three, and the lady at the corner market checked our pronunciation the way a patient aunt would. We cooked, we worked, we watched the tide keep time better than our calendars ever did. That’s when travel stopped being an event and started being a life.

We also learned to build “micro-rituals.” Every arrival includes a neighborhood walk, a map pin for the nearest green space, and a grocery run for eggs, tomatoes, local bread, and something impulsive. Every departure means a thank-you note (even if it’s just a doodle in the guestbook) and a donation to a local cause we discovered while staying there. Small acts keep you grounded. They also turn you from a tourist into a temporary neighbor.

Another lesson: carry generosity like currency. Pay for the coffee of the person behind you. Share your umbrella in a squall. Learn the bus rules before assuming there aren’t any. And on tough daysbecause they happentreat travel like a team sport. The person who’s least stressed gets to lead. The person who’s most stressed gets snacks. Ten minutes of silence is a valid strategy.

Logistics will only get you so far without curiosity. Ask your cab driver about the music on the radio. Tell the market vendor you’re trying to cook like a local and watch how quickly strangers become teachers. When you do splurge, make it an experience you’ll retell with sparkly eyes: a dawn kayak in still water, a train compartment with a window that actually opens, a cooking class taught by someone’s grandmother who measures in stories rather than cups.

If you’re planning to work while traveling, invest in good sound and light: noise-canceling headphones that double as sanity, and a small, warm light that makes any rental feel like a reading nook. Vet the Wi-Fi, sure, but also vet the chairs (your spine sends its regards). And give yourself a weekly “admin day” to file receipts, sort photos, and back up everything. The only thing worse than losing a passport is losing a hard drive of your memories.

Finally, give the journey room to surprise you. Some of our best days came from an unexpected festival, a wrong turn into a courtyard full of music, or the kind of thunderstorm that clears the streets and hands the city back to you. We sold everything and went looking for the world. We found it, yesbut we also found ourselves in the spaces between destinations: the quiet corners, the shared tables, the long conversations with people who started as strangers and ended as friends. If you’re on the fence, consider this your nudge. Pack light. Be kind. Go.