Time 2 Travel

Time 2 Travel Travel stories from around the world

02/04/2026

What does real Bali look like?

29/03/2026

28/03/2026

Do you want to walk with us in a Spanish town?

27/03/2026

The north of Spain is endlessly beautiful

26/03/2026

Some sweet memories from last summer, living abroad in France

25/03/2026

The beauty of Northern Spain

The north of Spain is so amazing
22/03/2026

The north of Spain is so amazing

Perfect mornings be like
28/03/2025

Perfect mornings be like

Сидимо в готелі, готуємося відпочивати, нічого не підозрюємо 😄 І тут нам з рецепції приносять пляшку шампанського і два ...
23/03/2025

Сидимо в готелі, готуємося відпочивати, нічого не підозрюємо 😄 І тут нам з рецепції приносять пляшку шампанського і два бокали, кажуть - подарунок. Я, дуже здивована, питаю: «Чому?» - а вони кажуть, просто так, тому що ви завтра виїжджаєте 🥺😍 Дуже розчулена. Ще вдень говорили про те, що у нас біля Таррагони тепер є улюблене місце (Cambrils Paradise Resort), а зараз - прям точно, не будемо інших навіть і шукати.

A week just flew by — spent in almost complete digital detox mode, somewhere in the middle of a Catalan forest 🌲🌳No sign...
23/03/2025

A week just flew by — spent in almost complete digital detox mode, somewhere in the middle of a Catalan forest 🌲🌳

No signal, no scrolling, no meetings. Just people, trees, silence, and a completely different rhythm of life. I honestly have no idea how to squeeze all of it into one post — so I won’t. There’ll be two 😁

I’ll start with the basics: what is it we’re even doing?

We love long-term travel. The word “vacation” gives me hives — because, honestly, it’s just… weird. Like someone’s “letting” a grown, free adult go somewhere for a few days. So — travel. And ideally not for 1–2 weeks, but for a few months.

But, unfortunately or fortunately, we’re not millionaires, not glamorous next-gen business people, and definitely not from the “golden youth” crowd. A $50–100 hotel room is expensive for us. And, as it turns out many travelers we meet from the UK, the Netherlands, Germany, or the US think the same 🙂

And it’s not just about the money — it’s about what you get for it.

A hotel.
A standard room.
Silent neighbors.
A complete disconnect from real life.

Okay — for a while, that can be nice. But… there’s SO much that’s missing.

You miss human connection. Even if your nearest neighbors say hello and smile politely, chances are, they’re not “your people.” You don’t go places every day. And by the time you build a social circle in a new country — that’s not travel anymore, that’s emigration.

You miss variety. No matter how you slice it, you’re still in your own little bubble. The randomizer is surprisingly limited.

And — this is key — you barely get to know the real life of the country you’re in. You’re either on your own, or surrounded by fellow expats, and polite neighbors in most countries (though there are exceptions, obviously) don’t exactly rush to include you in any deeper or more traditional kind of social connection.

All of these things point like a bright star toward one solution: Workaway-ing.

Okay, it's not the only platform of its kind, and probably not even the first.

But it's well-known enough to represent a whole format: a way of traveling that has not-so-much to do with usual tourism.

You stay in different places - a farm, a hostel, a glamping site, a family home, a charity project - but you're there not to be served and entertained.

You're there to join.
To immerse.
To learn what they do.
To become a part of the community.
To live inside something real, however unusual or different it might be compared to your habitual lifestyle.

You give a few hours of your day - usually 4 or 5 hours/ 5 days a week - and in return, you get a roof over your head, often meals (home-made, delicious!), and always something much harder to describe: deep exploration and a sense of being part of something.

Not looking at life through a window - but being in it, hands first.

What we love about this format of traveling?

Full immersion in real local life. Not the curated "authentic" stuff, but the unfiltered and natural kind.

People. Fellow travelers, hosts, kids, neighbors - interesting, open-minded, open-hearted, and often those who become your friends for years.

Experiences we wouldn't even come up with if we tried. A horse farm where they play classical music for the mares; an eco-retreat center where you completely lose track of time; a guesthouse where your "job" is help organise parties after snowboarding togethert with staff.

It combines well with remote work. You help a few hours a day, then open your laptop - if you want. Or don't.

The joy of switching from brain-work to physical movement. We rest much better after two hours of painting or weeding than after two hours of Netflix or social media.

And yes, the budget matters too. Comfortable accommodation and food for two people for several months doesn't cost cheap, almost anywhere on the planet.

"So you do… what?!"

This is usually the part where some people squint and go:
"Ew. You mean I have to do dishes? Wave a rag around? Dig in a garden? Clean up after dogs or - God forbid - horses?!"

Well, clearly, this is not the format for this kind of people, and it's okay.

As for me - a modest marketer and entrepreneur - and many of the entrepreneurs, tech leads, marketing directors, artists, engineers I meet (you name it), it's usually: "God, I'd love to do something like that!" 😁

Of course, it doesn't make flights, trains, snacks, or museums magically free.

And yes, there are times when you just want to rent a quiet apartment by the sea, lie around, and do absolutely nothing.

That's valid.

But for long-term travel?

Volunteering is one of the most grounding, enriching, surprisingly beautiful ways to travel.

It gives you access to a version of a country you can't "book." One where you're not a consumer - you're a part of the scene.

So, after a long pause, we decided to return to this way of traveling - for all the reasons I've written about before:

Exploration. Disconnection from the default.
Meeting people and ways of living we didn't know before.
Living our fullest version of life while traveling - not escaping it.
It's exactly the thing our souls were craving after years of long hours, to-do lists, and endless tabs open in every sense.

Our first Workaway after the break was, like I said - deep in the Catalan forest 🌲🌳 No horses this time (that was another story I'll tell you later). But no less real, no less grounding, and no less full of small, unexpected, beautiful moments we didn't know we needed that much.

The next post will be all about this one 🙂

Almost a week has passed, but it feels like we’ve been thrown into an entirely different universe. Like we hit some kind...
18/03/2025

Almost a week has passed, but it feels like we’ve been thrown into an entirely different universe. Like we hit some kind of turbulent disconnect, and now we’re just drifting in open space, occasionally catching distant signals from Earth.

(God, how I’ve missed this feeling!))

So, let’s keep going—even if we’re running a little late 🙂

On March 13, after France, we spent our last day at our usual hotel in Alcossebre.

A bit of rest, final packing, loading up the bike, and the next morning—350 km north along the coast, almost to the French border.

Naturally, we picked the perfect time for a motorcycle trip along this route 😆. Spain was getting hammered by a full-force Atlantic cyclone. If you’re not familiar with an Atlantic cyclone, let me explain: one moment, it’s warm and sunny, people are out in T-shirts, girls are taking pictures in blooming almond orchards… and then—boom. Dark skies. Rain. Drizzle. Wind. And just like that, the entire coastline is screwed. For a week, two, or however long the universe decides to mess with you.

But when you’re hell-bent on something, nothing stops you. So we packed up, had breakfast, wrapped ourselves up like cabbages (me: thermal wear, pants, rain pants, moto jacket, and over all that—a full-body rain suit), and set off toward Catalonia.

Long story short, we managed about 150 km instead of 350. Ended up at a damn Burger King—may they choke on their own fries—because it was the first warm place we saw when we just couldn’t take it anymore.

Burger King was closed for lunch O_O.
Burger King.
The place where people eat.
Closed.
For lunch.

But oooookay, this is Spain. Anything can happen, and siesta is sacred 😂. We only had a few minutes left to wait, the staff was inside, the doors were open, but they still wouldn’t let us in to warm up—even though we looked like a couple of drenched street puppies.

Ooooooookay. We waited, then finally got in. Fedya ordered coffee. I asked for… tea? Hot chocolate? Anything hot that wasn’t coffee? Nope. Only coffee. Another strike against this cursed Burger King.

(continued in the comments 👇)

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