We're not bored; we're just living normal life
There are two types of people in this world: Those who understand full-time traveling, and those who do not. We've had our fair share of conversations that involved us answering a whole lot of questions about our nomadic lives, but we never minded it, because we were opening people's eyes to a new way of living. It may not be their preference, but it's probably also not what they envision when they hear "living in an RV." We love showing society that we can be well-educated, smart, career-focused individuals who just happen to choose an alternative lifestyle.
What we didn't expect, though, were comments from those who know we're full-time RVing, that seem to come from left field. Last year, we were planning our travels near a colleague of mine, and she advised us to not stay in the town where we had booked a campsite, because there was "nothing to do around there." She then proceeded to suggest a different town, listing all of the attractions. That's really nice of her to take an interest, except she was missing a major point: We didn't want to be in a place with lots of attractions. We were already going to Yellowstone, and Glacier, and the Tetons. We needed to offset those destinations with a quiet place to do work. We had a busy week ahead with lots of meetings, and believe it or not, we actually look forward to those weeks where we have nothing extra on the agenda. It's one of the ways we avoid burnout on the road.
We had a similar conversation recently with one of our HipCamp hosts, who wondered if we enjoyed our stay on his property because it "isn't for everyone," meaning usually locals stay there and he wasn't sure if the vibe would suit two full-time northerners. We explained to him that our stay was exactly what we needed. We wanted a distraction-free campsite where we could get work done during the day and then visit Anthony's family in the evening. Our host hardly seemed convinced that we were totally content, but we were telling the truth!
What's more surprising, though, is when we get comments from other RVers, even full-timers. We've been traveling through the South these past couple of months, choosing a mixture of places to sightsee and places to chill. We spent a week and a half at a COE in a fairly rural area, with not much around except for one strip of shops and restaurants. Real civilization was about a half-hour away. We had plenty to do, though. We had work to catch up on and a bunch of little repairs and chores that we had been putting off. We couldn't wait to be productive, and we had the perfect campsite for it. If we're going to do work and chores, we might as well have an awesome view!
One day, about 2/3 of the way through our stay, one of our camp hosts stopped to talk to us when we were out for a walk. Evidently she had noticed that we walk a lot. It's part of our routine. I walk at least a mile every morning, and when Anthony is able to, he joins me. This week in particular, I had upped my distances because I was partaking in a walking challenge. Thankfully, the campground had tons of trails with lots of things to see, like the water, a historic center, wildlife, and even a gazebo with bench swing. Even so, the camp host checked to see if we had hit all the trails; she thought perhaps there were some we hadn't known about, but no, we had traversed them all. When we told her this, she then recommended that we go to a state park 30 miles away that has nice hiking. We thanked her for the recommendation, knowing full well that we were not going to drive 25 minutes to that state park.
We wondered if we were giving off a "bored out of our minds" vibe, or if people are just really self-conscious that they aren't providing enough fun for us. Then we figured it out. It's our age. Full-time RVers, who ought to understand that this life isn't 100% adventure, are used to meeting mostly retirees, and their day-to-day probably looks a little different from ours. 40 hours of our weeks consist of us inside the rig, hardly showing our faces around the campground. When we do show our faces, we are usually taking brisk walks, but not because we're looking for an excursion. These walks are breaks from work. They're routine. They're disciplined exercise. The other factor is probably our readily apparent sense of adventure. Being young travelers, we're going against the societal grain even more than the retirees. It's also assumed that we youngins have more energy than our RV elders, but this is definitively false. Honestly, even if we didn't have jobs, we probably wouldn't be out on adventures as much as our older RV friends. We have been to many a gathering where the 70-year-olds are still partying until midnight, and we're practically falling asleep two hours before that. Even if this wasn't the case, if people notice retirees taking it easy for a few days inside their rig, no one seems to bat an eye because they've probably been going strong and need some rest. But millennials need rest too! It's just that our form of rest happened to include 2-5 miles of walks each day, and that seems to be a point of perplexity for some.
Maybe onlookers don't believe that we can be satisfied taking the same walk every day when we're the types who, well, live nomadic in our 30s. Does that automatically mean it's ingrained in our personalities to have a powerful zest for life? Alright, granted we do have a few more scintillating excursions under our belt, like parasailing...and ziplining...and cave swimming...and riding in a hot air balloon...and flying in helicopters...and boating on whitewater rapids...but we enjoy a balance. This is precisely why we book our "hunker down" stays. We need to offset the excitement, and for us, it's equally exciting to be able to live our normal lives in a bunch of new places. Sometimes exploring isn't needed.
We do appreciate local recommendations and know that they can lead to some of the best hidden gems, but we don't want people to feel obligated to assist us in having more fun. If we lived in a house and took the same walk every morning, it's doubtful that someone would stop us on the sidewalk and tell us we should check out the state park a half hour away. It would just be understood that this was our morning routine. For us, it's no different at our campgrounds. We're purposefully maintaining a sense of normalcy in this life that is so out of the ordinary.