You’re going to be traveling through places where some people are good at stealing your numbers and identity, so listen up:
DO NOT KEEP ALL OF YOUR MONEY AT ONE BANK.
See how I boldfaced and caps-locked? I just yelled at you with a font like I’m your mom and you did something wrong.
Every nomad needs two banks.
Bank A is for day-to-day things, such as ATM withdrawals. It should have great fraud prevention, be part of a global network, reimburse you if someone hacks your account, waive international transaction fees, guarantee the best conversion rate and air drop a new debit card to you in the middle of the Serengeti. You’ll only need a checking account there.
Bank B will be an online checking account, and it should be a checking account as well, so you don’t incur fees for exceeding monthly withdrawals. You’ll manage this one through your smartphone and you’ll carry zero cards for it.
Before you leave, deposit all the money you think you’ll need into for the year into Bank A and schedule modest weekly wire transfers to Bank B.
Why do we do it this way? It’s possible, albeit unlikely, that some garbage person will steal your debit card number and try to empty your account. If you have all of your money in the bank connected to that card, you’re fucked.
Conversely, let’s say someone express kidnaps you and forces you to withdraw at the ATM. If you use two banks, the most they can abscond with is a few hundred bucks. You can live off credit cards or your emergency cash for a couple of days until your next deposit.
For travel expenses, I transfer $500 per week, which is more than enough, except in pricey places like Scandinavia and Japan. I’ve met people who survive on $200, but that’s cutting it close anywhere except the very cheapest places.
I also have scheduled monthly withdrawals for recurring charges, like my insurance and storage. I also make ad hoc withdrawals from time to time for big things.
Keeping those weekly limits low makes dipping deeper into the piggy bank just enough of a hassle that you think twice about buying that third sarong in Boracay or that second hookah in Muscat. They may be artificial, but they’re limits all the same, and they’re useful.
For people who hate debt, Americans sure have a lot of it. We’re swimming in a debt pool that’s about 19 trillion dollars deep, which is about $105,000 per person. Most of that is mortgages, but it’s all the same in the end.
If this applies to you, set up automatic payments from the account you have at Bank B in advance. Be sure to deposit enough into it to cover the period of time you’ll be away plus a couple months’ extra, so you don’t have to sweat the bills when you return.
This is truly a rabbit hole that never ends. Here’s what I think matters most when you shop for one.
1. No foreign transaction fees (FTFs)
Whenever you charge anything, your card company has to convert your dollars (or more accurately, the money they lend you on a revolving basis) to the local currency. These transfers occur through Forex, which is the decentralized global currency exchange everyone uses.
Each conversion, the story goes, is a service your financial institution provides, so they charge you for it. Nice financial institutions don’t do that though. You’re likely going to use your card daily, or at least several times a week. FTFs don’t seem like much — they average roughly 3 percent — but they add up very quickly. If, for example, you charge $15,000 for the year on your card, you’ll spend $450 in fees. That’s over a week’s worth of backpacking in many places.
2. Fraud protection
You’d be surprised by the fine print that some banks and card companies hit you with when things go wrong.
While I was in Chile, my Mastercard got double charged (not a small amount of money) and dealing with HSBC was such a headache I ultimately closed my account. Ironic given how frequently they locked my card for the “suspicious” charges I’d legitimately made, but not the one I didn’t. They also wouldn’t let me file a claim until I returned to the US, and the delays, which they chalked up to “investigation” time, took forever.
With other companies, I’ve simply had to make a phone call, and they sorted the details. The difference that makes is so indispensable I rank it number two.
3. Rewards
Rewards are the points or cash back you get when you use your card. One point per dollar spent is a pretty common standard, but some cards amp up those rewards for purchases of a certain type or through specific vendors.
Most cards offer you a signup bonus, say, for example, 50,000 points if you charge $6,000 in the first three months. If you’re keen to play games, you can sign up for a good airline partner card, for example, use it for the year before you travel, bank the points and score some free flights on partner carriers.
If that card has good travel rewards, then continue using it. If, however, there’s another card that’s better suited to travelers (for example, better perks — see below), then you can always sign up for that one before you leave. It might come with a signup bonus of its own as well.
There’s this thing called travel hacking that some people do to travel basically for free. It’s an exhausting amount of effort, but people swear by it. If you’re keen to try, there are huge upsides. It hinges on opening and closing certain credit cards and transferring points, so before you do it, remember that too much open credit is bad for your rating. Opening cards just to milk the bonuses is therefore risky business.
4. Perks
Perks and rewards aren’t the same thing. Rewards accrue as you use the card, whereas perks are the benefits for simply being a cardholder.
With my American Express Platinum, for example, I get:
There are other perks as well, but lounge access is the one that makes my heart sing. While I strongly prefer to travel by land, flights are inevitable. I think I took 24 in a year and a half. When I was forced to fly, Priority Pass usually gave me a quiet place to hang out, recharge my devices, house a few cocktails and scarf a meal.
Quite often, I showed up early just to enjoy an extra hour or two of civility. Ironic that one would look to an airport for that, but lounges are awesome.
My privacy policy is simple: I don’t share your information.
Yea, it’s just a name, email and nationality, but I’m sure there are people who would pay for it. My thoughts on that: fuck those people and fuck those fuckers who sell personal information to them. You’ll find none of that monkey business here.
If I get hacked and your info get stolen, I’ll shoot you a note to let you know. I don’t deal in passwords, credit cards or anything like that though, so there’s almost nothing for anyone to take.
To see the full privacy policy — it’s pretty boring and cost me a lot of money — you can follow the link at the bottom of the page or in the confirmation email.
Domestic American air travel is a racket run by three major companies and a few smaller ones who effectively collude on prices to screw passengers and support their bloated executives and corporate structures.
Even regional jets, which are technically independent, are fucking death traps that I literally never, ever fly.
It’s not this way in other countries, because most people are sensible and see transportation as akin to a public utility. It’s therefore common to find flights on foreign carriers for under $100. I frequently see fares less $50.
Booking far in advance is therefore unnecessary, except of course in places where tickets sell out. Avoid the temptation to book months or weeks out if you’re just trying to save money. Not only will doing so lock you into dates you might regret, you may end up paying. Why? Booking sites now sniff for your computer’s location and display higher prices for foreigners.
Rude, right? Blame the mirror. We invented that.
First, some bad news for most Americans: automatic transmissions are as rare overseas as manuals are in the US. Unless you want to seriously overpay, make friends with someone who owns an old Miata and learn.
Second, anyone who wants to rent a car should obtain an international driver’s permit. This is easy — just 30 minutes at AAA.
When it’s time to rent, don’t get tempted by lower prices with small, local companies. Go with a big multi-national.
Understand your insurance situation through-and-through. Know the limits of your credit card’s automatic coverage and have a printout of the policy. If you can get a translated copy, even better. If you’re still in doubt after all that, just pay for their coverage.
Research the scams. Before you drive off the lot, walk around the vehicle and video record it. When you return the car, do the same. Also record yourself locking it and depositing the key in the night box if you return after hours.
If you get a notice from the rental company later saying you owe for damage or not returning the car, you can send them those videos with an E-vite to go get fucked. You might also copy tourist law enforcement, so they get fined to oblivion.
It’s tricky, but you need to basically study each country’s road laws and signs like you’re getting your student driver’s permit again. Most places have tricky rules, and they love to fine gringoes like us for violating them.
In Cyprus, for example, you can be fined for eating or drinking anything behind the wheel, even a Snickers. In Denmark, you’re legally required to look under your car before you get inside to ensure no one is underneath. In Spain, drivers with poor vision have to carry a spare set of glasses. Dirty cars are illegal in Russia, as is splashing pedestrians on a rainy day in Japan.
In some places, driving is really difficult. I pity any fool who tries to drive in Cairo. You can also very swiftly kill yourself on a German highway if you’re untrained. Driving at 120 MPH is far more complex than simply pressing the accelerator further.
Fare classes are highly inconsistent.
First class in one country is generally different to first class in any other. The same is true of second, third and so on. They vary wildly by country and system.
If it’s fiscally reasonable, I choose first for early mornings and overnights. They really are better, even just for security of your belongings.
The one time I settled for a second-class overnight, I had to physically fight a mouth-breathing Russian girl who was sweating vodka and wouldn’t stop burying her face into my lap to huff my underpants like Whip-Its. I wish I was making this up, but it’s true. I arrived sleepless, angry and ugly. It ruined my first day in Lisbon and I only had five. First class would have been worth the cost. Second class is my usual go-to. For shorter trips or anything after 9 a.m. I go second.
If I want an adventure, I go even lower. Some agents won’t sell those tickets to tourists though unless you insist.
Nomads and backpackers who don’t do the travel hacking thing usually buy cheap flights. Be careful of taking that too far.
For starters, you need to observe weight limits on baggage. In the US, no one gives a shit, but elsewhere they care. The care deeply. Never buy a ticket that forces you to pay weight overages.
Seats are also important, but not for comfort. I never take bulkhead or exit-row seats unless I pay for early boarding. Both offer less (or zero) under-seat storage, so being in a later boarding group puts you at risk of having nowhere to put your carry on — or as you’ll hear them called “cabin bags.”
I’ve even been on a flight where the attendant nearly made me check my personal item. I shut that down by threatening to create a scene and de-board, but I could have avoided it by paying $8 for priority boarding.
Countless people have asked if I used an around-the-world plane ticket for my first trip.
My simple response: Don’t ask dumb fucking questions. Also, no, I didn’t.
ATW tickets are nearly useless. They typically require you to book your stops in advance, so there’s too little flexibility. The fine print is also brutal and changes constantly.
Last time I researched them, the price was based on allotments of miles. The number of stops also changed the equation. All of them required you to choose a direction (east-to-west, for example) and none permitted travel in the reverse direction even slightly. Some airlines even insisted all departures had to occur from the same point as arrival, meaning if you traveled by land elsewhere, the airline penalized your mileage allotment.
I said airline there, but ATW tickets come come from a single carrier. Instead, you buy into an alliance, of which I believe there are still only three. Quite the lack of competition there.
ATW fares do lend themselves marvelously to itineraries where you go to a different city each month and make it the base from which you explore the region. This is something we’ll talk about later when we discuss hub-and-spoke travel.
If you have status with a particular airline, you may want to consider their ATW option — emphasis on ‘may’ — but be warned that flying everywhere robs you of some great experiences.
Domestic American air travel is a racket run by three major companies and a few smaller ones who effectively collude on prices to screw passengers and support their bloated executives and corporate structures.
Even regional jets, which are technically independent, are fucking death traps that I literally never, ever fly.
It’s not this way in other countries, because most people are sensible and see transportation as akin to a public utility. It’s therefore common to find flights on foreign carriers for under $100. I frequently see fares less $50.
Booking far in advance is therefore unnecessary, except of course in places where tickets sell out. Avoid the temptation to book months or weeks out if you’re just trying to save money. Not only will doing so lock you into dates you might regret, you may end up paying. Why? Booking sites now sniff for your computer’s location and display higher prices for foreigners.
Rude, right? Blame the mirror. We invented that.
The beauty of hub cities is the slow pace. How slow you take it will vary according to the number of side trips as well as your pace. If you commit to a month though, this introduces the possibility of renting an apartment. Even if you don’t plan to stay the full 30 days, apartment rental is generally very cheap. It can also make cooking easier, which also saves cash.
Cooking for yourself doesn’t have to mean eggs for breakfast and chicken dinners. You can dial up the adventure full throttle if you sign up for a greenmarket food tour and a cooking class right after you arrive. Not only will you know what to do with the local ingredients, you’ll eat better. Plus if you know what you’re doing, the vendors may screw you less, which will offset the price of the guide.
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