Slowing Down to Really See
When I first started traveling as a remote worker, my trips were packed. I’d land in a city, hit all the major sights, squeeze in work sessions between activities, and then move on a few days later. It was exciting—but it was also exhausting. After a while, I realized I wasn’t actually experiencing these places. I was skimming the surface, like a tourist with a checklist. That’s when I decided to try something different: stay put.
The first time I stayed in one city for a full month was in Lisbon. I rented a small apartment in a neighborhood that wasn’t particularly famous—just a regular residential area with bakeries, corner cafés, and laundry hanging out on lines. I set up my laptop near the window, got into a rhythm with work, and started living a life that felt surprisingly normal. And that’s when everything changed.
Living, Not Visiting
There’s something radically different about living somewhere—even temporarily—compared to just visiting. You stop rushing. You don’t feel pressure to see everything all at once. Instead, you start noticing things you’d never catch in a few days: how the neighborhood bakery sells out of croissants by 9 a.m., the older man who walks his dog at the same time every morning, the teenager playing the same three guitar chords outside your window every evening.
These aren’t the kinds of things you’ll find in a travel guide, but they stick with you. They’re what make a place feel real. When you stay for a month, your relationship with the city shifts. It stops being just a backdrop for your vacation photos and becomes a place that holds memories, routines, even habits.
Building Local Rhythms
During that month in Lisbon, I developed a rhythm. I’d work in the mornings from a café where the barista started remembering my order. I’d break for lunch at a tiny place down the street where I slowly learned how to order in Portuguese. In the evenings, I’d go for long walks up the winding hills, watching the sunset over the river. Some weekends I took day trips to nearby beaches, but most of the time I stayed close to home.
This rhythm gave me a kind of peace I didn’t know I needed. As someone based in Brooklyn, I’m used to a fast pace—people moving quickly, filling their calendars, chasing the next thing. But traveling slowly helped me appreciate simplicity. I started to realize that part of the joy of travel isn’t in constantly doing something new. Sometimes it’s just about being in a new place while doing the same things you always do.
Finding Your Places
Staying for a month means you get to find “your spots.” In Buenos Aires, I found a coworking space that had the perfect mix of quiet and community. In Budapest, there was a late-night ramen place where I ended up eating once a week, always sitting in the same corner booth. In Mexico City, I found a small bookstore where I’d browse before heading to my favorite coffee shop.
These little anchors make a big difference. They give you stability in a place that’s otherwise unfamiliar. Over time, they help turn a foreign city into something that feels a bit like home.
The Shift in Perspective
One of the most surprising things about staying in one place longer is how it changes your perspective on travel. You start to care less about seeing the “must-see” attractions and more about what it feels like to simply be there. You realize that you don’t have to be constantly entertained or amazed for a trip to be meaningful.
You also notice how your mindset shifts. In shorter trips, you’re often in consumer mode—buying, photographing, scheduling. But when you stay for a while, you become more of an observer. You watch how locals move through their days. You notice how mornings feel different from evenings, how weekdays feel different from weekends.
This slower pace helps you connect more deeply—not just with the place, but with yourself. Without the pressure to always be doing something, you get to ask: what do I actually enjoy? How do I want to spend my time? It’s grounding in a way that fast travel never was.
Returning to Brooklyn With New Eyes
Eventually, I always come back to Brooklyn. It’s where my roots are. But staying longer in other places has changed the way I live here, too. I’ve started walking more slowly. I’ve started going to the same café more regularly. I notice things in my own neighborhood that I used to overlook.
Travel doesn’t have to mean constant motion. Sometimes the biggest shift comes from staying still in a new place and letting it change you quietly, over time. That’s what a month-long stay gives you—space to grow into a new rhythm, one that stays with you long after you’ve gone home.
There’s nothing wrong with short trips, and there’s certainly a time and place for whirlwind adventures. But if you’re in a season of life where you can afford to stay longer—especially if you work remotely—consider slowing down. Pick one city. Stay for a month. Settle in. You’ll see more by doing less, and you’ll carry those quiet moments with you wherever you go.