What Makes a Place Feel Like Home?
As someone who lives a digital nomad lifestyle, one of the questions I get asked a lot is, “Don’t you get tired of moving around all the time?” And to be fair, it’s a good question. Living out of a suitcase and hopping between countries can sound more exhausting than freeing. But what most people don’t realize is that I try to build a version of “home” everywhere I go. It’s not about finding comfort in permanence—it’s about building a rhythm and space that feels familiar, even in a completely new place.
Coming from Brooklyn, I’m used to the buzz of a busy city. I have my favorite bodega, my usual walking route, and the park bench I sit on when I need a break. So when I land somewhere new, I try to recreate that kind of comfort. It’s not about copying Brooklyn, but about making wherever I am feel livable, not just visitable.
The First Few Days Matter Most
When I arrive in a new city, I usually take the first few days to settle in. That doesn’t mean racing out to see the tourist attractions—it means finding a neighborhood café with decent Wi-Fi, walking the nearby streets until I’ve got my bearings, and figuring out where the grocery store is. It’s surprising how quickly things start to feel familiar once you take care of the basics.
I always try to stay in the same place for at least a few weeks. A hotel might work for a short trip, but I usually opt for a small apartment or Airbnb where I can unpack, stock the fridge, and feel like I live there. It’s amazing how much of a difference it makes to not live out of a backpack—even just putting my socks in a drawer helps shift my mindset from “traveler” to “resident.”
Finding My “Local” Spots
After I’m settled, I start to look for my spots. I find a café to work from, a market to shop at, and a quiet corner to relax in. These places become my anchors in the city. They may not be special to anyone else, but to me, they’re a big part of what makes the city feel like home.
In Split, Croatia, it was a small bakery down the street with the best olive rolls I’ve ever had. In Kyoto, Japan, it was a tiny neighborhood park where elderly folks did morning stretches and toddlers chased pigeons. In Oaxaca, Mexico, it was a late-night taco stand that quickly came to recognize me. These little connections make the city feel personal.
Routines Are Everything
Even though I’m in a new place, I try to stick to my daily routines. I wake up around the same time, get a coffee, work a few hours, go for a walk, maybe journal in the evening. There’s something powerful about having a consistent structure, especially when everything around you is unfamiliar.
Routines help ground me. They make the transition into a new culture less overwhelming. And they remind me that no matter where I am, I can still be me—still get work done, still rest, still create a life that feels balanced.
Learning the Neighborhood, Not Just the Landmarks
Tourist guides are great for weekend trips, but when I stay somewhere for a while, I want to know what it’s actually like to live there. That means walking instead of taking taxis, going to the same grocery store more than once, and learning a few basic words in the local language.
In Istanbul, I started to recognize the rhythm of the call to prayer throughout the day. In Budapest, I noticed how people took their time over coffee and didn’t rush off. In Santiago, Chile, I figured out which parks filled up in the evenings and which stayed quiet. These are the details you don’t pick up when you’re just passing through.
It’s About Feeling Like You Belong—Even Briefly
I don’t pretend I’m a local. I know that no matter how long I stay, I’ll always be a visitor in some way. But that doesn’t mean I can’t belong, even briefly. Belonging doesn’t require years—it requires intention. When I slow down, connect with people, learn about the culture, and contribute to the community in small ways, I feel like I’m a part of something. And that, to me, is the essence of home.
I’ve been lucky to live this lifestyle for a while now, and each city leaves its mark. But what stays constant is how I approach new places—with curiosity, care, and the desire to build something that feels solid, even if it’s temporary.
Bringing It All Back to Brooklyn
And when I return to Brooklyn, I carry pieces of each of these places with me. I might bring back a new recipe I learned, a story I heard in passing, or even just a habit I picked up. Travel changes you—but when you make each stop feel like home, you don’t just collect experiences. You build a deeper understanding of what “home” really means.
It’s not about geography. It’s about routine, connection, comfort, and presence. That’s what I try to build everywhere I go. That’s how I make the world feel a little more like home.