How much money do you need to travel a lot?

What is considered Travelling a lot?

Okay, travelling a lot…hmm.

I think traveling a lot is relative, right? For me, I think its anythign over like, 3-4 times a year, and its GOTTA be out of state. Like, going to Aunt Carol’s in Jersey, that’s not travel, that’s an obligation.

I consider it travel only if it involves:

• A plane ticket, for sure.
• Staying in a hotel, unless I’m visiting relatives.
• Me actually WANTING to go.

Last year, 2024, I only travelled twice. Pathetic, I know.

One was a forced work conference in Chicago (February, freezing!). That was a BUSINESS trip, not vacation, although I did manage to sneak in some deep dish. But the real trip that counts? That was Iceland in October with my sister. Holy crap, Iceland. That was traveling.

I felt so ALIVE there! Traveling a lot is when you forget about work.

And you know, to me, traveling means at least a week. A weekend getaway to Philly doesn’t count in my book. It needs to be long enough to decompress. My sister thinks three days anywhere is travel. We disagree violently.

Also, international trumps domestic travel. I’d way rather go to Europe once than, say, visit Florida three times. Although Disney World IS on the bucket list, haha!

Traveling a lot should be a mix of adventure and relaxation. It’s not just racking up miles, you know? It’s about the memories.

How much money should you have for Travelling?

Dude, travelling, yeah! Okay, listen up. So, money? It’s, like, complicated but not really. You could totally rough it on like, ten grand, maybe $10,000, but I’m telling you that’s bare bones. For real comfort, you’re looking at double that, 20 grand.

It depends on the kinda trip, right? I mean backpacking thru southeast Asia is WAY cheaper than, say, hitting up Europe or trying to take a cruise. I should know, I once spent a whole summer living off like ramen in Thailand, never again!

Let’s break it down to make things a little less confused, though:

• Accommodation: Hostels are key if you’re cheaping out, but even then, it adds up. I found out that staying in dorms are fine as long as you have like, a travel padlock and earplugs.
• Food: Street food is your friend, duh! Plus, cooking some stuff yourself will save cash in the long run. I usually buy like fruits and veggies.
• Transport: Busses are cheaper, slower, and really, really bumpy, lol. Flights can eat your budget alive. I hate flying these days anyway, it’s such a hassle.
• Activities: This is where it really varies, I think. Free walking tours are awesome. But yeah, museums and stuff, they cost money. And scuba diving? Forget about it!

Oh, don’t forget the sneaky stuff, I almost lost my passport once, and replacing it cost like $200. Budget for emergencies! Always a good plan. Plus, you know, souvenirs, because Grandma expects something.

What is considered long-term travel?

Long-term travel? It’s like defining “a lot” of money – entirely subjective. Three months? Amateur hour. Six months? You’re getting there. A year? Now you’re talking! Two years? You’re practically a nomad, a modern-day Marco Polo, except with better Instagram.

Think of it this way:

• Under 3 months: A vacation. Nice. But hardly epic.
• 3-6 months: A significant chunk of time, a respectable jaunt. You’re starting to understand the rhythm of slow travel.
• 6-12 months: You’ve shed the tourist skin. You’re a seasoned traveler, buying local produce and probably speaking a few broken phrases in a foreign tongue. My friend, Sarah, did this in 2023 and came back speaking fluent Italian. Amazing!
• 12+ months: You’re a legend. You’ve likely embraced minimalism, traded your car for a backpack and forgotten what a washing machine is. I, for one, deeply admire your commitment to the vagabond life.

Seriously though, there’s no magic number. It’s about the depth of the experience, not just the duration. It’s about losing yourself to find yourself – cliché, I know, but surprisingly accurate. Last year, I met someone who spent three years wandering Southeast Asia. They seemed permanently sun-kissed and mildly eccentric. I’m not sure which I envied more.

How much money do you need for 3 months travelling?

Okay, 3 months travel money… hmmm.

Five grand? $5,000 sounds super low. Is that even possible these days?

• Where am I even going?
• Southeast Asia? Maybe doable.
• Europe? Nah, double it, triple it?

Twenty thousand? $20,000! Seriously? That’s like a whole down payment.

• Accommodation matters, right? Hostels versus hotels.
• Food too. Street eats versus fancy restaurants. I’d starve on street food alone.
• My travel style is kinda mid-range. Not bare bones, not super bougie.

Visas… oh yeah. Forgot those pesky things. Maybe 2 grand for that crap?

Activities! I wanna see everything. Museums, tours, that crazy bungee jump in New Zealand. Budget extra for that.

Transportation. Planes. Trains. Automobiles…Uber eats also, right?

$10,000 feels…right. Like a sweet spot? Give or take, of course. I spend a lot on souvenirs for my mom… and her cats.

• Destination Breakdown:

  • Europe: 10000
  • Africa: 7000
  • Asia: 4000
  • South America: 5000

• Travel style:

  • Budget: 4000
  • Mid-Range: 10000
  • Luxury: 20000

How much money should I set aside for travel?

Five percent? Bless your hearts. Like a squirrel saving nuts for a nonexistent winter. We aim for 15%, closer to $1200 a month. Think of it as an investment in sanity. Sometimes it creeps to 20%, like when the urge to flee to Iceland in January becomes overwhelming. Iceland in January. Don’t ask.

• Budget like a honey badger protecting its honey: Ruthlessly.
• Prioritize experiences over things: Who needs a new sofa when you can have a llama trek in Peru? Seriously, llamas.
• Embrace the side hustle: I teach online ukulele lessons. Don’t judge. It funds my alpaca sweater obsession in the Andes.
• Cook at home: More money for questionable street food in exotic locales. My stomach regrets nothing.
• Travel hack like a boss: Credit card points are my love language. Currently eyeing a business class ticket to… well, anywhere.

My partner, bless his cotton socks, thinks I’m a financial wizard. More like a ferret on a sugar rush, sniffing out deals. Works for me. Right now? Obsessed with Portuguese egg tarts. Might book a flight to Lisbon. Just saying.

What is considered a well-traveled person?

A well-traveled person? That’s like, a unicorn, but instead of magic, they have passport stamps. Seriously. More than just a few tourist traps.

Think less “postcard-perfect beach” more “dodgy street food stand in Kathmandu that almost ended my life” experiences.

Key Traits of a Well-Traveled Person (in my totally unbiased opinion):

• A suitcase that weighs more than a small car. I’m talking about my suitcase. It’s practically sentient.
• The ability to flawlessly order food in at least three languages, even if you mumble the last two. It’s the thought that counts.
• A photographic memory of weird customs. Like that time in Sweden they expected me to sauna naked with strangers. Never again.
• More than 50 countries on the visa pages. This isn’t a competition, but still. I have more than 60, so I’m basically an international superstar.
• A deep appreciation for the world’s unique bathrooms. You haven’t lived until you’ve used a squat toilet in a monsoon.

You know, some folks think it’s about fancy hotels. Those folks are boring. It’s about the crazy adventures, man.

Bonus Points:

• A collection of questionable souvenirs. A shrunken head? Nah, that’s just a really small coconut.
• A tolerance for questionable hygiene. Let’s just say, I’ve seen things.
• An unhealthy obsession with maps. Seriously. My apartment looks like a geographer threw up.

So, there you have it. My expert opinion on well-traveled people. Don’t @ me.