Hi there,

"Nomad" has become a slippery word these days. I should know, I've been drowning deep in Spanish bureaucracy for months trying to land a digital nomad visa. The paperwork alone could fill a suitcase.

Between police station visits and document translations, I've been thinking about what this word actually means now.

It conjures laptop-fueled sunsets from Bali to Chiang Mai, airport lounges and hostel conversations about the best coworking spaces in Barcelona.

But long before Wi-Fi passwords and digital nomad visas existed, being a nomad meant something entirely different.

Original nomads didn't move to escape the office—they moved to survive. Their migrations followed the rhythms of land, season and necessity. They carried entire cultures across continents, shared stories by firelight and developed ways of living rooted in rhythm rather than speed.

Picture yourself right now: laptop charged, Airbnb Wi-Fi humming, watching another sunset from another rooftop in another city. You're living the dream, right? Maybe. But something's missing from this modern nomadic picture—something the original wanderers understood that we've forgotten in our rush toward digital freedom.

The Ones Who Came Before

For thousands of years, movement wasn't a lifestyle choice, it was life itself. Winter meant following reindeer north. Summer meant chasing grass for the herds. Drought meant finding water. Movement served survival, not Instagram.

These weren't your cute weekend warriors with expensive gear. They were the Sámi herders of the Arctic Circle, the Tuareg navigators of the Sahara, Mongolian families crossing endless steppes and the Bajau Laut diving for fish in Southeast Asian waters. They carried entire cultures on their backs and wisdom in their bones.

What connects all these examples is something we've lost: the ability to be completely present in uncomfortable places.

Sámi (Arctic Circle)

In the Arctic reaches of Scandinavia, Sámi families still follow reindeer herds across frozen landscapes. Three generations might travel together; grandparents, parents, children with each person knowing their role without being told.

Their pace isn't frantic. It's deliberate. They move when the reindeer move, rest when winter demands it and share everything from food to stories to the weight of survival. Community isn't networking, it's staying alive.

Tuareg (Sahara Desert)

The Tuareg cross the Sahara using navigation techniques that would humble any modern explorer. Stars, wind patterns and centuries of inherited knowledge guide them across terrain that looks identical to outsiders. Their indigo robes carry deep cultural significance while serving as perfectly adapted desert gear.

What strikes me about Tuareg culture is how movement strengthens rather than weakens their sense of identity. They don't travel to find themselves—they already know who they are. The desert is their home; they simply carry it with them wherever they go.

Mongolian Herders

Across Mongolia's vast steppes, herder families live in gers—portable circular homes made of felt and wood that can be dismantled and rebuilt within hours. These nomads follow the seasons and their livestock's needs, moving with practiced precision.

Their lineage reaches back to Genghis Khan and beyond, but their values stay constant: simplicity, unity and adaptability. Everyone contributes—even children learn to ride, pack and lead animals. Survival depends on strong family bonds, built through shared work and deep trust.

In their world, life is change.

Bajau Laut (Southeast Asia)

The Bajau Laut of Southeast Asia push nomadism to its extreme: they live entirely on boats. Some never touch solid ground. They dive 200 feet underwater without equipment, catch fish with their bare hands and navigate by currents most of us can't even feel.

Their boats aren't temporary shelters—they are home. Everything happens on water: births, deaths, meals, weddings, fights, celebrations. They've mastered building community on something that never stops moving.

What Traditional Nomads Can Teach Remote Creatives

What strikes you about all these groups—whether following reindeer, crossing deserts, roaming steppes, or living on water—is how they've transformed constant movement into profound stability.

Modern nomadism often feels like an endless hunt for better—better weather, better Wi-Fi, better coffee, better photo opportunities. Traditional nomads weren't seeking better. They were seeking enough.

That shift changes everything.

1. Work with What's There

Sámi herders don't curse cold weather—they dress for it. Mongolian families don't battle the wind—they build homes that flex with it. Desert nomads don't fight the heat—they travel at dawn and dusk.

Meanwhile, we jump from city to city chasing perfect work conditions, ideal temperatures and flawless internet. We waste more energy fighting our surroundings than learning to work with them.

Try this instead: spend a week working with whatever you've got. Slow internet? Write offline. Noisy café? Learn to focus through chaos. Uncomfortable chair? Take breaks to think while walking. See what happens when you stop demanding perfect conditions from your environment.

2. Use Everything Twice

Traditional nomads treated waste like a luxury they couldn't afford. Reindeer provided meat, clothing, tools and shelter. Camels carried goods and people, then provided milk and eventually food. Nothing got discarded because nothing was disposable.

You probably don't need that new MacBook, upgraded software, or second monitor. Some of the most creative work emerges from whatever's lying around. Constraints spark innovation in ways abundance never does.

Before buying something new, ask yourself: what could I create with what I already have?

3. Build Your Tribe

Nomads traveled in groups because survival demanded it. Someone watched the children while others hunted. Someone tended the fire while others set up shelter. Everyone ate when there was food; everyone went hungry when there wasn't.

Modern nomadism can feel isolating. We work alone, travel alone, make decisions alone. That independence feels liberating until loneliness creeps in.

The solution isn't complicated: find your people. Join a coworking space. Start a project with someone. Share meals. Ask for help when you need it. Offer help when others do. Remember that humans evolved in tribes, not isolation pods.

4. Move Toward Something

Ancient nomads didn't wander aimlessly—they migrated with purpose. Every journey served a clear goal: following herds, finding water, reaching seasonal hunting grounds. Movement supported life, not restlessness.

Many of us chase convenience or aesthetics: lower costs, better weather, trendy neighborhoods. Nothing wrong with that, but what if travel also fueled your creative growth?

Choose places that challenge you. Go where the hard questions live, not where answers come easy. Let your journey feed your work, not just your wanderlust.

5. Embrace the Rough Edges

Traditional nomadic life was brutal. Cold nights, uncertain food, constant danger. Yet these communities developed remarkable resilience, creativity and joy. Comfort wasn't the goal—survival was. And in pursuing survival, they discovered something we often miss: the deep satisfaction of rising to meet challenges.

Modern nomadism can become too polished. We optimize away difficulty, curate away discomfort, filter away anything that doesn't photograph well. The result looks beautiful but feels empty.

Shake things up occasionally. Stay somewhere basic. Get lost on purpose. Miss a flight and see what unfolds. Let a little chaos disrupt your carefully managed routine.

The Ancient Art of Moving with Purpose

The nomads profiled here didn't choose their lifestyle, it chose them. Geography, climate and culture shaped their movement patterns across generations. They mastered adaptation because survival depended on it.

We face different freedoms and different constraints. We choose where to go, when to leave, how long to stay. Yet we can still learn from their mastery of movement—their rhythm over haste, their ability to work with environments instead of against them, their commitment to community over individualism.

You don't need to live in a yurt or navigate by stars. But you can move with more intention, work with greater flexibility and create with deeper connection to the people and places around you.

The original nomads understood what we're still learning: movement isn't about escaping life, it's about engaging with it more fully. Real freedom isn't having endless options. It's developing the skills to thrive wherever you land.

Brand Wars: Hilton v Hyatt

Hilton

Hilton figured out something brilliant: most travelers are exhausted by choice. So they eliminated it.

Walk into any Hilton from Bangkok to Boston and you know exactly what you're getting. Same shower pressure. Same pillow height. Same continental breakfast with those weird triangle sandwiches. It's McDonald's for hotels and that's not an insult—it's genius.

Their loyalty program is basically a casino for business travelers. Stay enough nights and they'll make you feel like royalty with "Diamond status." Free breakfast! Late checkout! Room upgrades! Suddenly you're addicted to collecting nights like poker chips, terrified of "wasting" a stay anywhere else.

Hilton's bet: You've got enough chaos in your nomadic life. Your hotel shouldn't be one more thing to stress about. They're selling peace of mind wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets.

Hyatt

Hyatt looked at Hilton's beige reliability and said "that's exactly what we're not doing."

Since 1970, they've been selling the opposite of predictability. Their hotels feel like someone's cool friend designed them—a monastery in Spain, a ryokan in Japan, a desert retreat that looks like it belongs in a Bond film. Each stay feels like discovering a secret.

Their loyalty program gives you cooking classes and meditation sessions instead of just points. Because apparently some people want to learn how to make pasta in Tuscany rather than collect free nights in Newark.

Hyatt's bet: If you're already living an unconventional life, why sleep in conventional places? They're selling stories you'll actually want to tell at dinner parties.

Ad Vault: Johnnie Walker

"The Man Who Walked Around The World" (2009)

In 2009, Johnnie Walker made a six-minute commercial. Six minutes. I skip five-second YouTube ads.

Robert Carlyle walks through the Scottish Highlands telling the whole Johnnie Walker story—from farm boy with a grocery shop to global whisky empire. One shot, no cuts, no tricks. Just a guy walking and talking for six minutes straight.

The logistics were mental. Carlyle had to nail the entire script while walking at exactly the right pace. One slip-up and they'd start again. Took them two days to get it right.

Here's why it worked: they made "Keep walking" feel real instead of just saying it. You watched this guy literally walk for six minutes while telling you about 200 years of never giving up.

Any other brand would've chopped it into 30-second clips with quick cuts and fancy graphics. Johnnie Walker said "if we can hold someone's attention for six minutes, we've got them."

Turns out they were right.

Lento Vibes

A bit of random inspo from around the grounds:

• DiDi’s New Mascot Is Screaming at You to Go Outside: A deranged little creature leaps out of your phone yelling “GO OUT.” DiDi’s latest campaign via Sunday Gravy ditches logic for absurdity — and it weirdly works. 👉 Watch the madness

• Arsenal’s Surreal New Kit Launch: Forget slick sports edits — Arsenal went full arthouse with a dreamlike short film for their latest kit drop. Surreal visuals, minimal dialogue and major A24 energy.👉 Watch the kit film

• Jordan Brand Turns 40: From basketball to fashion icon status, Jordan Brand marks four decades with a bold new campaign. Nostalgia, legacy and the next era all in one. 👉 See the 40-year play

• This Tea Brand Just Tricked New Yorkers: Tired of the hustle? A tea brand staged fake street construction to get busy New Yorkers to slow down — and sip. It’s cheeky, on-brand and kind of genius. 👉 See the trick

• TripAdvisor Gets a Sharp New Look
  Koto took on the task of rebranding one of travel’s biggest names — and delivered a modern identity that doesn’t lose the soul of exploration. 👉 See the redesign