Shall I quit my job and travel the world?
Be honest – how many times have you had that thought? I bet it’s more than you’d care to admit. For me, it’s been countless times. But actually taking the leap into full-time travel? Now that’s terrifying. Or is it?
The spark of wanderlust
I’ve always had an urge to travel. One of my earliest memories is telling my Mum that I was going to Australia (I think my love of Jason Donovan might have influenced that slightly!). That spark never died; I always felt there was more out there waiting to be seen. Fast forward to my 23-year-old self, working in London, earning a decent wage, and enjoying a few holidays a year. Then I stunned my safe little life by deciding I was off on a long-term travel adventure – without really knowing who I was or what this pull to the unknown even meant.
I think many of my family and friends thought that adventure would cure me, that my wanderlust would finally be sated, and I’d return to society renewed. And, for a while, I did. Yet, deep down, I knew I’d be drawn away again. I wasn’t sure when. I wasn’t sure how. But at my core, I knew I’d never feel completely satisfied in a 9-5 existence when my heart craved the freedom of travel.
The turning point: from routine to adventure
Then life happened. As it so often does! And while my dreams were always there, they took a backseat whilst I ‘adulted’ to within an inch of my life. I got a mortgage, climbed the career ladder, found stability in a relationship, and eventually, I fell pregnant. That news was the catalyst and opened my eyes to the fact that time wasn’t standing still. Suddenly, I was in my late thirties, and if I wanted something truly different – if I wanted to maximise my life – it had to happen now. Mr Rick and I had long talked about travelling together, listing all the places we wanted to see. We’d been ‘saving’ for a year out, though it was far too easy to settle into our comfortable, predictable life and not jump blindly into the unknown.
Luckily, just prior to finding out about the imminent arrival of Little Rick, we’d bought a van with plans to convert it into a camper. We had many, many serious discussions about what our new life as a family of three would look like – and neither of us envisioned it in the traditional sense. We knew staying in the usual routine would stifle us. So, we decided to switch things up. We put our home on the market, re-designed the van to accommodate a baby, and set our minds on using maternity leave and the proceeds from our sale to hit the road together.
The ultimate test: swapping the ordinary for the extraordinary
Then came the hard part: telling family and friends about our plan to sell everything and travel in a van with a newborn. Many didn’t understand. Some still don’t. But we made a pact: as long as we were sure, no one else’s views could sway us. We spent countless hours explaining our decision, always with a smile – though that was, without a doubt, the most exhausting part. Some people just won’t get it. And that’s okay. As long as you know it’s right for you, you’re on the right path. To us, van life with a baby was daunting, but staying in the mundane was downright terrifying.
After an incredible maternity leave adventure, making the most fantastic memories together, it was time to head back to the real world. But returning to work only made the wanderlust itch worse. We had experienced our version of the gold standard, and nothing else compared. This period of adjustment was painful – yes, a bit of a first-world problem – but the sense of loss was immense. Leaving your baby to return to work is heart-wrenching. You’ve changed so much since your last day at the office, and your priorities have shifted. I can admit now that I was once a (very unhealthy) workaholic, defined by my job and my colleagues. Then suddenly, it all just wasn’t enough.
Taking the leap: embracing the unknown
Mr Rick and I found ourselves consumed by one goal: to travel full-time as a family. So we made it happen. Once again, we sold everything we owned, tweaked the van to be livable full-time (water heater, shower, diesel heater for cold-weather days), handed in our resignations, and had some tough conversations with family and friends for a second time. There was no safety net this time – just the thrill and terror of making a life-changing leap into long-term travel.
I was nervous. Excited. Worried. Relieved. The emotions were overwhelming. But deep down, I knew this was the right choice for our family. We owed it to ourselves to pursue happiness. After all, as Robin S. Sharma once said, “Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.” That was our moment to leap.
Life on the road: finding freedom
And leap we did. We started exploring England and Wales in our campervan, reconnecting with family and friends in ways we’d never had time for before, and celebrating life at every turn. We journeyed to France and Spain, experiencing the most relaxed autumn and winter we’d ever known. Then, we flew to Saint Lucia, renting an apartment for five weeks to immerse ourselves in local culture. Our plans for the rest of the year are unfolding, with the possibility of even more distant adventures in early 2026 (eek!). The doubts have been shattered. Little Rick is thriving as our travel baby, and Mr Rick and I are happier than ever.
Should you quit your job to travel the world? Only you can decide that. But if the thought sets your soul on fire, trust yourself – take the leap. Life’s too short to wonder ‘what if’.
Have you ever dreamed of leaving it all behind for a life of travel? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!
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