From Montana to Portugal: Journey with Us (Janelle Holden)

A few years back, I won an all-expense paid trip for two to Australia.

How it happened is like how a lot of things in my life happen, a combination of following the Breadcrumbs + Wild Belief + Trust. This is how I did it. To read my work, and learn Portuguese, subscribe to my Substack at https://janelleholden.substack.com

In this episode, Janelle reads a love story. To read more of her work, go to https://janelleholden.substack.com to become a free or paid subscriber.

In this episode, Janelle reads her latest essay from Substack. To get more of Janelle's writing, you can go to: https://janelleholden.substack.com to subscribe.

Listen in as Janelle reads an essay about her trip to Montreal's Little Portugal. Includes some bonus "sounds from the city." Enjoy!

In this episode I share the advice my new Portuguese accountant gave me, and news and updates on our move.

In this episode, I'm talking to Scott and Amy from the Substack Newsletter, Love From Portugal. They moved from Missouri to Portugal in June of 2022 and are so much fun! Listen in as they share their story, how they decided on where to ultimately live, and what they love about Portugal. This is the first in a series of interviews with expats abroad on why they moved, and what they've learned. Stay tuned for more!

Listen in as I interview my friend Brenda about her recent trip to Australia, flying first class! If you've ever wondered what it would be like to fly first class on Emirates Airline, then this one is for you! Laugh along with us, and learn a trick about how to save money on tickets.

Listen in for mother's day as I read my essay on traveling with mom.

Listen in to hear Jen B from Jen's World on Substack talk about her journeys to Portugal, why they are considering moving there, and what to take on your trip if you are a true minimalist traveler.

Listen in as Janelle interviews expat coach, Deb Dahab, and learn what some of the biggest mistakes people make when they move abroad, and how to avoid them!

Listen in as Janelle shares advice from friends whose family members are in the foreign service on how they navigate life abroad, and an update on the house selling process.

Listen in as Steve Danzey shares his story about his move to Portugal with his husband David. We talk about what they brought, food, religion in Portugal, and being a same sex couple in a new land. Steve shares a lot of wisdom in this podcast including book recommendations. You can find his substack, Letters from Lisbon at: https://stevedanzey.substack.com.

In this episode you'll meet Stephanie Wasylysk a business coach and friend who lived for 3.5 years in Australia and moved to Quebec with her family even though French is not her first language. Stephanie is a business coach who helps business owners who defy convention do business on their own terms (and succeed at it). After listening to this you'll throw out your guidebook and travel and live your own way! Mentions in this episode: The song "Little Boxes" The book Tracks by Robyn DavidsonA Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky ChambersComplimentary Coaching Call with Stephanie (no strings attached): https://giftcoaching.youcanbook.me/Stephanie's website: https://stephaniewasylyk.com/coaching/

Listen in as Janelle interviews Carol Wilcox, the author of the popular Substack newsletter, Our Portugal Journey on how she and her husband moved from Arizona to Portugal and what it's been like ever since. You can find Carol's substack at: https://www.ourportugaljourney.com/

Listen in as Janelle reads her latest essay on what it's like to have house showings while you live in the house. You can subscribe to her substack at: https://janelleholden.substack.com.

In this episode, Janelle interviews Frank Moore, who lives in California. Listen in as Frank shares about his wife's Portugal connection through Macau and how he started learning about the country and what he loves about it.

You'll also find out: * Why you can't find Portuguese wines in American stores very easily

* How Frank applied for a Golden Visa and where he purchased property in Portugal

* Which company helped Frank apply for his Golden Visa and why he loves working with them

* Why investing in Portugal could be a good Plan B

* Wine tours in Portugal with https://www.fortheloveofport.com/ in the Alto Douro Wine Region: https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1046/

* What the Alentejo is really like (and why it's so special)

* How to say Sagres like a Portuguese (and you can watch this video about Sagres as well)Other resources Frank wanted to share:

* Turquel is where he picked up his wine. Alcobaca is close. 

"20 Beautiful Places to Visit in Portugal -- From Fairy-tale Castles to Charming Beach Towns"

If you'd like to subscribe to Janelle's Substack, From Montana to Portugal, and receive weekly essays in addition to fresh podcast interviews, then click here. You can become a free or paid subscriber and receive invitations to Portuguese culture lessons and get access to a new, free email course Janelle is creating for would-be American immigrants to Portugal. Click here to subscribe!

Listen in as Janelle interviews Lisbon-based Portuguese editor, writer, and teacher Marta Cancela. Marta shares so many interesting and valuable tidbits about Portuguese life, culture, and language that you'll love. If you like what Marta has to say and want more lessons from her, there will be more to come! Come over and subscribe at Substack at: https://janelleholden.substack.com to get updates on upcoming educational projects with Marta on Portuguese Language and Culture.

Listen in as Janelle reads her latest essay on Substack about moving to Portugal. You can subscribe to her substack by clicking here: https://janelleholden.substack.com. There are free and paid options. Thank you for your support.

In this episode, you'll meet Montana poet Susannah Cragwick and her husband, Samuel and hear their unique love story. Susannah and Samuel were married in May of 2023 in Finland where they both now reside. Samuel is from Finland. Listen in as they share words of wisdom navigating cultural differences and language differences and still sharing love. You can find Susannah's poetry on Substack @: https://susannahcragwick.substack.com. As a bonus, Susannah also shared a few tips for European expats that weren't in the episode. I've copied them below for you. Thank you Susannah! "Bring a set of measuring cups with you that use the Imperial system. That way you can make your favorite recipes without feeling stressed about converting measurements. I have both types of measuring cups. It's been great allowing myself those options. In Finland and maybe other parts of Europe, standard paper sizes, folder sizes, and hole punches are different from the US. For instance, the papers Samuel printed out for me here are a little too tall for my American folders. Our hole punch is with 2 holes and not 3. Again, I don't know about Portugal, but in Finland, according to Samuel, Sharpies and legal pads are not easy to find. So, when he visited the US, he was piling up on those things."Thank you for listening! If you'd like more of my work, please consider subscribing to my writing on Substack where you'll receive original essays: https://janelleholden.substack.com.

Listen in as I interview Kayb Joseph, who moved from Chattanooga, Tennessee to New Zealand with her husband and two children in 2022. Kayb is a dear friend of over 25 years, a renowned artist and teacher, and she holds a masters degree in intercultural studies. She has lived in China, and traveled extensively around the world. You can learn more about Kayb here: https://kaybjoseph.com/

Resources for intercultural learning that Kayb shared in our episode together: 1. Hofstede Insights Country Comparison Tool: https://www.hofstede-insights.com/country-comparison-tool2. The Dance of Life: The Other Dimension of Time by Edward T. Hall3. The Art of Crossing Cultures by Craig Storti

You can subscribe to Janelle Holden's Substack at: https://janelleholden.substack.com for additional essays and commentary.

Listen in as Janelle shares more about what happened when she caught Covid on their travels, and reflects on what's ahead on their journey to Portugal. You can subscribe at: https://janelleholden.substack.com.

Listen in as Janelle shares the latest news from their move to Portugal, from where they are now - in New Hampshire. To subscribe to Janelle's newsletter and support this podcast go to: https://janelleholden.substack.com.

Dear Reader,

There’s an old New England joke that Doug likes to tell me. It goes like this.

From Montana to Portugal is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

A tourist pulls up to a Maine gas station, looking for directions.

An old, crusty Maine Down Easter (watch Bert and I to learn more) walks out of the building.

The man approaches the tourist’s fancy car and asks, “Can I help you?” The tourist gestures to the map on his lap and asks, “Can you tell me how to get to Bangor from here?”

The Mainer takes his time, lights his pipe, and then says …

“You can’t get there from here.”

Frustrated, the tourist looks at him in disbelief, gestures to the road in front of them, and says,

“Well, can you tell me where this road goes?”

The Mainer looks at him straight in the face and says with the perfect ironic accent,

“Don’t go nowhere, stays right here.”

I love that joke so much.

Once, when we lived in Livingston, Montana, a confused tourist stopped us to ask for directions to Yellowstone National Park while we were walking on the 9th street island. The 9th street island is in the middle of the Yellowstone River.

‘‘Can you tell me how to get to Yellowstone National Park from here?” she asked.

We paused. I looked at Doug. He looked at me. We were both so tempted.

So when I walked into the Maine tourism information center on Saturday, I was thinking about that joke, because I was about to ask for directions.

The two tourism counselors working the desk looked up with excited faces. I was the only one in the building. Someone to talk to!

“Can we help you?” the woman asked, wearing a gray fleece vest, and a warm smile.

“Well,” I said, “A friend (that would be Amy, from Love from Portugal) told me that I should walk the Marginal Way at Ogunquit. I’m looking for directions on where to start the walk?”

Oh boy, did that start a twenty-minute conversation! Out came the area fun map, a red Sharpie marker, a notepad, the computer, and an entirely new plan.

“GPS will not take you the right way,” the tourism counselor instructed me as she drew red arrows on the map. “So don’t use it. You’ll need to follow this map.”

She drew a path with a red sharpie on one side of the fun map to York, Maine, just south of Ogunquit, where she recommended we drive the seacoast north.

That’s when the other tourism counselor whipped out a magazine with a photo of the Nubble Lighthouse.

“You should stop here on your way,” he said, pointing down at the lighthouse. “Also, do you like something funny? You would really enjoy the piano bar in Ogunquit. Everyone sings along.”

By the time I got back to the car, I had a restaurant with gluten-free selections picked out for dinner, entertainment ideas, and directions.

Doug looked at me quizzically as I walked up, “That took a while. What happened?”

“I have a new map,” I said, handing him the fun map and a series of unintelligible directions written with the red sharpie on a piece of a paper.

“Guess what? You’re navigating!”

By the time he had deciphered the word “building” that I wrote in poor cursive we were already to the next step, “turn left at the stop sign.”

We followed Route 1 north until we reached York and turned onto the Shore Road, driving slowly to take in the historic houses, and get glimpses of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Stop!” Doug said when he saw a beach coming up. “I want to get out.”

I didn’t object (even though this technically wasn’t part of the plan - okay, my plan). I was thrilled to see the ocean again, and it wasn’t lost on me that we would be crossing this ocean soon to get to Portugal.

So I pulled over to park at Long Sands Beach in York, and we hopped out. Not many people.

The beauty of traveling off-season to a popular place is that even on a warmish day for November standards, even on a Saturday afternoon, you don’t have to worry about crowds.

You just have to remember to take it all in.

We walked the beach from end to end, about 2.5 miles in total, marveling at the waves, the dogs on the beach catching balls thrown high in the air by their owners, and the beauty of the sand.

By the time we finished, I wasn’t sure we’d have time to walk the Marginal Way before the sunset (we didn’t), but I was determined to see the Nubble Light.

“Just don’t ask me to climb to the top,” Doug said. “I don’t think I have it in me after that hike yesterday.”

“I won’t,” I promised, but not really meaning the promise. Of course we were climbing out to the top!

We drove out to the edge of the coast where the lighthouse was perched on a “nub” of land (hence the name), and walked from our car to the edge of the parking lot, where I thought there was going to be a walkway or something that would bring us to the lighthouse proper to explore.

Nope.

We stared in amusement at the small bit of ocean that separated us from the lighthouse, and took turns taking photographs.

Finally, I turned to Doug and said, “Well, turns out you CAN’T get there from here!” Let’s hope we can get to Portugal from here.

Love, Janelle

P.S. Many thanks to Amy for recommending the Ogunquit Marginal Way. Even though we actually ran out of daylight, and went for lobster stew instead, it ended up being a marvelous day in Maine because she mentioned going there! Thank you Amy!

P.P.S. If you want to hear some more classic New England jokes, listen to the audio recording of this article. You can listen to it right in the newsletter, or go to your favorite podcast app to subscribe. Please do!

From Montana to Portugal is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Ever wonder what it would take to move your dog abroad with you? Listen in as I explain how we're getting Loki across the pond.

In this episode, I catch you up on how the last part of our move from Montana to Portugal happened. I crossed an ocean (twice), and once by ship with our dog Loki. Want to know more about the Queen Mary 2? This is a good episode to listen into about that. You can watch a YouTube video of the journey here: https://youtu.be/pXu-Ch9ynks?si=n59qyp5DVT9ZNuoY. You can also see a tour of our new home here: https://youtu.be/A3rbSmcNI1k?si=sX4DvmC7pIJ_Fn_p. You can support this podcast by becoming a paid subscriber (and get some great perks) by clicking here: https://janelleholden.substack.com

In this episode, Janelle shares how she and Doug have been getting around Portugal, and what it's like to live without owning a car there.

In this episode, Janelle reads an essay about their trip to Braga for Doug's immigration appointment.

Dear Listener, In this episode of the From Montana to Portugal Podcast I share highlights, tips, and hot takes after spending nearly 10 days being a tourist in central Portugal with my friend Maria who was visiting us from … where else but … Montana! We were so lucky to get to see her. I haven’t done a catch up podcast in a while, so you’ll also get the latest news on our residency and where things are at with us after we moved with our dog Loki to Portugal earlier this year. You can listen to this podcast on your favorite podcast app or right here on Substack. I’m now on Spotify as well! I leave you with a few more photos from beautiful Portugal. Hope you enjoy this one!

Dear Reader,

So, how’s your summer going?

Has it been hot?

It’s … not … that hot … here.

Well, not hot like it was in Montana in July.

By July in Montana, I was doing my religious summer routine.

Wake up. Close the windows. Close the blinds. Keep the house cool.

After struggling to keep two thoughts together in the afternoon, I’d sit on our shaded patio and wait for the temperature to drop so that I could go back inside and open up all the windows, turn the fans on and think about frozen margaritas and Montana windchill in February.

Then, repeat.

Here, on the Silver Coast of Portugal, I think I’ve only mumbled something like, “It’s pretty humid today, isn’t it?”

It helps that we’re near the ocean.

We get a cool breeze coming in from the Atlantic almost every day. The mornings start cool and overcast, and the afternoons are sunny and sometimes windy.

So far our highs have gotten into the mid-70s, and lows in the 60s (Fahrenheit of course).

I went to Lisbon to shop on Thursday (gasp!) with a new friend, and I would say it was “sticky” in the dressing rooms and I gulped water, but I wasn’t miserably hot.

People with experience here tell me that it’s an unusually cold summer.

I don’t know, but it’s very temperate and I feel like I’ve slid from January into July with mild surprise, the way you might feel when the bathwater reaches the point where it’s too cool to stay in it.

But, there are other things to talk about besides the weather.

My days here are sometimes surreal.

On Friday morning there was a fine mist of rain in the air.

I got on my bike and dropped down to sea level to go to Obidos.

Took the paved road down to the lagoon path.

A blue heron flew over my head to the ocean. A snake whistled past on the trail.

Flamingos stretched their necks to groom their feathers in the blue water.

Two men walking with sticks across their shoulders balanced 4 giant jugs of water each as they made their way to the lagoon to fish.

Fishing boats sat still in the water, anchored to find their next catch.

My bike flew out to the highway to get to the back side of the Obidos Castle, which loomed large over valleys of pear and apple orchards.

The castle was festooned in purple tapestries to celebrate the Medieval Festival that started there this week.

I wasn’t going there to festa (the Portuguese word for party), but to get my European Union health number at the social security office so that I can travel to other European countries with health coverage.

Can you believe that sentence? I really can’t.

It feels crazy to me to go to a government office inside a Medieval walled city let alone to have health coverage in Europe!

I mean, what?!? How did I get here?

Meanwhile, in Portuguese culture news, I took a taxi in Lisbon to get to the bus. Arriving with just one minute to spare before my bus took off the driver asked me if I knew the 3 Fs of Portugal.

“What are they?” I asked, nervous about the time and scanning for my bus.

“Fátima. Football. Fado,” he said.

Fátima, if you’re not familiar (and I wasn’t before I moved here), refers to the miracle of the Virgin Mary appearing to three young girls not far from where I live and sharing with them visions of the future while they guarded their sheep.

When I visited Fátima, it was at the end of a long day of visiting monasteries and the idea of going into another church with a lot of steps (this was before I started getting fit) felt like too much, so we lit a candle in the barbecue of candles area and listened to some of the outside mass. I will go back.

Football, if you’re not familiar, is soccer in the United States. “American football” is the NFL. Let’s just get that clear. Portugal nearly beat France in the European Cup this year to advance and we were all rooting for them, but it didn’t quite work out. Lots of Spain jerseys were seen on the streets here when they won.

Fado, if you’re not familiar, is a type of sorrowful music with guitars and vocalists specific to Portugal that will make you cry if you know the words. You’ll find different types of Fado in every region here. I’ve only heard one performance so far, Coimbra Fado, and thoroughly enjoyed it. People cried in the row behind me.

What else can I tell you about this week? Here are a few bullet points:

* At Happy Hour, I met a man from Holland who spent all of Covid in his yacht with his girlfriend in French Polynesia. Didn’t we all? He told me that he is a traveler and we discussed the difference between traveling vs. tourism. More on that in a future essay.

* The Obidos pool is absolutely gorgeous. Clean. Well-lit. Perfect temperature. Not overcrowded. I’m excited to start swimming on the masters swim team in September at the start of their next season.

* I’m blonde. Seriously blonde. It was a bit shocking actually. I went to the salon in Caldas da Rainha and asked for highlights and three hours later ended up as blonde as Madonna on the Bedtime Stories album cover. I’m trying to adjust. It’s not easy. Good motivation to learn more Portuguese!

That’s all for now.

Love,JanelleP.S. As a perk for paid subscribers, I’m hosting a monthly Portuguese language class on Thursday at 12 p.m. Pacific/ 3 p.m. Eastern/ 8 p.m. Lisbon time via Zoom. Our tutor, Marta Cancela, lives in Lisbon and will be leading the class! We’ll be practicing scenarios and pronunciation. If you’d like to join us, click on the button below to upgrade for $5 and you’ll get all of the details.

From Montana to Portugal: Journey with Us is a reader-supported publication.

Looking at rentals in Portugal is both fascinating and amusing.

Some of the homes I am most drawn to look like something out of The Flintstones. One of my favorites has a giant boulder attached to its side, and I’m not sure whether the stone cottage in question was built with that in mind (as in, yeah, that boulder would make a good side of a house, let’s build there!) or it was just an added bonus (look ma, a rock!).

Of course, there are no photos of the inside of this fortress? castle? manor? but there are plenty of good views of the countryside that go with the big rock.

My understanding is that stone homes like these are wonderful in the summer (instant air conditioning) and damp and depressing in the winter (do you like living in a cave?). But I can’t help but being drawn to historic homes.

When I gave our team in Portugal a list of our “needs” and “wants” about housing, I put down a detached home with a garden that allows pets and has good energy efficiency for “needs” and "preferably close to either the beach or hiking” for wants. I also put down “anywhere in Portugal” so that we could compete with what seems to be a very competitive rental market.But here’s the thing, my housing preferences lean toward “character” and away from “modern.” If you drop me off in any college town in the U.S. I would instantly want to live in a Craftsman or Victorian home a block from campus with a large library nearby. Having remodeled a 1918 home (which was originally a Sears Kit home), I can tell you that historic homes take a lot of TLC, but I do appreciate their character and charm over the cookie cutter boringness of most modern American homes.

Portugal’s historic homes, however, are likely to be next level from what we can find here. Let me give you an example.

When we first started looking online for housing we chose a northern city called Ponte de Lima, the oldest chartered town in Portugal. It was founded in 1125. It’s also a point on the historic pilgrimage trail of El Camino Santiago.

But just take that in for a moment. 1125. A.D.!

That is 367 years before Columbus reached America. And you know how I know that? Because of a rhyme. Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492.

Columbus also married a Portuguese noblewoman and lived in Lisbon for several years. Just a random fact for you that I learned on Wikipedia. I’ve heard real estate in Portugal called “the Wild West” by Americans in online forums and I'm truly puzzled by this. Lack of laws and regulations? This seems like a country that loves paperwork.

Could they be referring to the amount of bartering that goes into housing? Because unlike in the U.S., I’ve been told that there is a fair amount of negotiation that goes into even rental contracts there.

I don’t know, but back to Ponte de Lima. Here’s an example of a historic home we found there.

I’m imagining myself in the pool, looking up at the tower wall, wondering when the next Monty Python remake will be filmed there.

The description of this place put anything I’ve read from American real estate to shame.Torre de Refoios is located in Ponte de Lima, in the valley of the beautiful village of Refoios. It preserves the legends and romanticism of almost a thousand years of history. The magnificent view from this sec. XII allows you to enjoy a peaceful, silent rural landscape with an almost medieval appearance. Next to the Tower, experience the cozy atmosphere of the rustic apartments prepared to welcome you.Feel nature, take a dip in the pool or stroll through the fields where vines, fruit or cereals are cultivated. Rest a few kilometers from the beach, the river and the Peneda-Gerês Mountain.

I mean, really. My husband is all worried about whether there is a working stove or not in the kitchen, and I’m like, “Who cares! It has the original stones from a thousand years ago!”How much money are they asking for this little beauty? 1100 Euros per month. Which, right now, is about equivalent to U.S. dollars. I think that’s a great deal. Could we find a modern apartment that is much, much less expensive than this? Yes, we could. I’ve found apartments for as low as 350 Euros per month, that looked quite nice. They might be located a long distance from Lisbon, but they would suffice as far as living quarters if it was only us. I’ve also found some incredible island rentals on the islands of Madeira and the Azores, which I am totally tempted by, and Doug is like, “You want me to move to an island? I think that is a little extreme.”

I realize that the romantic ideal is rarely ideal in real life, meaning that practicalities like dishwashers and modern heating really do matter on a day to day basis, but there is something urging me to throw caution to the wind and just embrace a peculiar form of a house, even if it seems like a completely eccentric choice.

Perhaps it’s because the more I fall into the same habitual patterns here, the more I realize I need variety in my life, and though a different way of living will undoubtedly be challenging, it will be good for my soul. We shall see. P.S. If you’re curious where I’m doing most of my house hunting, it’s on idealista.pt, though in future posts I’ll list a bunch of other sites I’m using as well. P.P.S. Also, if you’d like to follow us in video format, I’ve got a YouTube channel going called “Today, In the Garden” and I posted the latest one yesterday from our home in Montana. Click here to take a look.

From Montana to Portugal is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Listen in to an essay about death, life, and following your heart to new places.

In this podcast episode, an essay about cultural norms, conversation topics, and the U.S. November elections and how it's changing my views on our move to Portugal.

An overview of a life in literature, plus book recommendations about Portugal.

Part of what creates some of this tension in our lives (and I experience this too) is this thought that, that we’re expected (and this is a total lie that we get told our whole lives) that we have to choose between these two things — that we can’t have adventure and home.

— Chloe Cooper Jones

On Thursday, I drove our cat Mystery thirty miles to the veterinary clinic for her annual vaccinations. We don’t have a vet clinic in town, which is strange since so many people here ranch for a living.

Instead, we get to choose between five vets that range between 30-50 miles away (one to the east, two to the west, and two to the north/northeast of us). My dog loves the ladies, so we drive the furthest distance so that he can see two young women vets (Addy and Maddy) who fawn over him.

My cat, on the other hand, wants to get whatever we’re doing over with as soon as possible with the least fuss possible so we go the shortest distance to Conrad, Montana, another small farm and ranch town, where there’s a long-established clinic in operation that sent me a postcard reminding me her rabies vaccination was due.

As an aside, not only are rabies vaccinations required by law by most local municipalities and states, but you’ll also need to get them if you want to bring your pets to Portugal. Fortunately, Portugal does not have quarantine requirements for dogs and cats from the U.S. or Canada. But they do need to be microchipped, vaccinated, and have a health inspection before leaving (more on that in a future edition).

A discussion of easy vs. difficult beauty

Since Doug wasn’t with me (he’s not a fan of podcasts), I decided to listen to Deviate, a travel podcast hosted by Rolf Potts. Rolf is the author of Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel. It’s become part of the literary canon for backpackers and digital nomads since it was published in 2003. He recently published a companion book to it (which I haven’t read yet, but it’s on the list).

Anyway, this latest episode featured Mr. Pott’s interview with philosopher Chloe Cooper Jones, the author of Easy Beauty: A Memoir, which was a New York Times notable book last year. I’m in the middle of reading it right now and it’s remarkable.

I was immediately captivated by their discussion of easy beauty vs. difficult beauty. Easy beauty being something that takes no effort to appreciate like a rose or a sunset, and difficult beauty being something that takes time and effort to appreciate. Often, as travelers, we are guided to easy beauty destinations. That may be why so many places are over-appreciated and crowded, while others worth appreciating are barely noticed. It seems a strange injustice that we elbow each other out of the way to be in an iconic place and then groan about the crowds, all the while wishing for the authenticity of place that often happens where there is “difficult beauty.”

In the podcast, Ms. Jones recounts a bedtime story her father told her to teach her a lesson about beauty. In it, a little girl asks her father where the most beautiful place in the world is.

“Where is beauty?” she asks. The guide then takes the girl around the world, describing the beautiful places she could see, until finally they end back in the room where the story is being told, where real beauty lives.

Part of the beauty of this story, is discovering that Ms. Jones was born in Bangkok to parents who loved to travel, and was born without a sacrum. As a result she’s much shorter than most women and walks with a distinctive gait. She also has a lot of pain because of her disability.She shares openly in her memoir about how it feels to be pitied and feared in her life for having a disability, and for people to assume that she couldn’t find love or experience a full life because of what she looks like. ‘‘They fail to see the full scope of my humanity,” she says, and then later readily admits that she has dehumanized people and places too. We all do.

Are we numb to the beautiful moments?

“It’s easy to feel (when I travel) like I’m not having an experience of a place as a real and singular and specific person. I’m having the generalized experience. I’m having the appropriate or expected experience,” Ms. Jones says in the podcast.

Yes! I thought. Yes.

This is the experience we’ve all had while we’re waiting our turn to take a photo of the view or the landmark that we flew or drove hundreds of miles to see. The people in front of us standing for their obligatory ten seconds to take a selfie, and then turning to walk down the mountain again while you take your place to do the same.

It’s what it feels like when beauty is a commodity whose value is only earned in bragging rights. “I saw that,” we say on social media when we post a photo. “I was there.”

But were we? Were we really there? Or were we numb to the moment? Entirely ready to move onto the next thing as rapidly as possible. To conquer the next view. To move onto something “more productive.” To walk through another curated experience laid out for us as consumers of beauty.

“Finding the balance between those two experiences is what can make travel so deeply rewarding,” Ms. Jones says. "“A lot of the best travel writers are the ones who have figured out how to move through the world and bring it back from the perspective of one mind, not as people, but as a person.”

The paradox of exposure

Our first attempts to understand difficult beauty will probably start with failure. I failed the first time I tried to appreciate the American Southwest desert.

Not the famous photos of Monument Valley in Utah or the Grand Canyon (those are easy) but the vast stretches of scrub and canyon that seemed to blend into one long pastel painting.

It took me a long time to value desert ecology and archeology. The great fortitude and strength one plant has to survive. The bacteria, lichen and fungi that bind a delicate soil together.

It was the same with prairie grasslands. Acres of sky and wind whipping through places long ago abandoned by most of humanity. How could someone love this?

I found out why, after many visits. My ignorance was cured with plenty of exposure. After studying and learning about the history, the ecology, and the difficult survival mechanisms of the desert and the prairie I finally saw what it is and what it once was.

Paradoxically, even glorious places near and dear to me, like Glacier and Yellowstone National Parks, can dim with hundreds of exposures.

Trips with relatives or friends to show them wildlife, waterfalls, and mountains have made places that people travel from halfway around the globe to see sometimes seem ho-hum, especially as crowds have grown.

“I’m accustomed to this view, I’m bored of it,” my mind says. “Give me something new to appreciate. Give me something easy that will thrill me and then bore me again. Take me away from this place to somewhere new and better.”

Can we be free and be a wanderer and also honor our commitments to the place we call home?

Another tension in the conversation between Mr. Potts and Ms. Jones is the arc of the hero’s journey. Does travel only make sense if you return home? Or can you continue wandering forever?

Another one of my favorite authors, Derek Sivers, is an American expat who lives in New Zealand. He’s called Portugal, the United Kingdom, and many other places home and makes the case in his essays that a life lived over all over the globe can be one of the most mind-expanding paths you can choose.

In his book of essays entitled, How to Live, he offers this advice:

Moving across the world makes you smarter, because you stop thinking you’re always right. Those who shout, “my country is the best!” are those who have never left. In Icelandic, the word for “idiot” means “one who has never left home to journey abroad."

Only idiots think they’re always right. You can’t see your own culture while you’re inside of it. Once you get out and look back, you can see which parts of your personality actually come from your environment.

Traveling makes you better at communicating, since you can’t assume familiarity, and must speak simply and clearly. You’ll get used to speaking with people of different religions, worldviews, and communication styles. You’ll know when to be formal, when to joke, when to reference tradition, and when to swear.

To live a full and rewarding life, intertwine yourself with the world. Move somewhere far away. Plan to stay. Bring no baggage. Leave your expectations and certainties behind.

Ms. Jones is on her own journey to synthesize polar opposites.

“Because I think that’s the only way for me to be authentically present in any of these realms, travel or home, is to have both working together in some sort of way.”

Mr. Potts moved back to his home state of Kansas and settled down there after his travels, which may be why he argues that “the hero’s journey only works if the hero actually comes back and comes home.”

Ms. Jones replies, ‘‘The single self is always in search of a community that it can enrich. It’s an ancient and powerful narrative for a reason, and if you can’t figure out how to come home and give to people I think there would be a feeling of incompleteness for a lot of people.”

Back to the quotidian

Perhaps the most beautiful parts of our lives fall in the routines we have created. The reply to the age old question, “What should we make for dinner?” The making of morning coffee. The reaching over to take a loved one’s hand. Falling back into your own bed after a long trip.

Ultimately, travel and living abroad is about knowing. We want to know how other people “do life.” In my humble opinion, we’re curious. We want to see if we’re missing the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

Tonight I took Loki for a walk after dark. I could see Orion, the Greek hunter with his bow, and the seven sisters: Electra, Taygete, Maia, Celaeno, Alcyone, Sterope, and Merope shining clearly above. The moon was a bright sliver. The sky crisp and dark around the Milky Way.

I stood in awe of starlight. I was the only person outside in the whole neighborhood (perhaps the whole town) looking up at the sky on a clear cold evening, not really wanting it to end.

Living the beauty of one January moment in one small Montana town.

So, tell me, dear reader, what’s beautiful to you? I’d love to hear about it.

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