I've traveled to 60 countries—but these 5 destinations are the only ones I'd actually move to

There's a massive difference between visiting a place and imagining your life there.

I've been fortunate enough to travel extensively over the past two decades. Sixty countries across Asia, Europe, South America, and beyond. Each trip taught me something, shifted my perspective, left me with stories and photographs that still make me pause.

But here's what I learned: most places that are incredible to visit for two weeks would drive you crazy after two months.

The romantic notion of packing up and moving somewhere exotic sounds appealing until you consider the reality. Could you navigate healthcare in that language? Would the food culture sustain you long-term? Does the place have the infrastructure to support the work you do? Can you build genuine community there, or would you always be a perpetual outsider?

After sixty countries, only five have made me think seriously about uprooting my Venice Beach life and starting over. These aren't necessarily the most beautiful places I've visited or the ones with the best tourist experiences. They're the places where I could see myself actually living, working, and building a meaningful existence.

Here are the five destinations I'd actually consider moving to.

1) Lisbon, Portugal

Lisbon surprised me. I went expecting charming architecture and good seafood. I found a city that felt immediately livable in ways that caught me off guard.

The pace of life hits a perfect balance. It's energetic enough to feel vital but relaxed enough that you're not constantly stressed. People take two-hour lunches seriously. Coffee shops are designed for lingering, not just grabbing and going.

The food culture works remarkably well for my vegan lifestyle, which I didn't expect. Portuguese cuisine traditionally relies heavily on seafood and meat, but Lisbon has embraced plant-based eating in a way that feels integrated rather than trendy. I found incredible vegetable dishes, creative vegan restaurants, and markets overflowing with produce.

The creative community drew me in too. Artists, writers, digital nomads, and entrepreneurs have created a thriving scene. I met people doing interesting work, having substantive conversations, building things that mattered to them.

What really sold me was the walkability. You can live without a car, which is rare outside major cities. Neighborhoods have distinct personalities. The light is extraordinary for photography, hitting buildings at angles that make everything look painterly.

The cost of living is reasonable compared to California. You get quality of life that would cost twice as much in Los Angeles. The healthcare system is solid. The visa situation for Americans is manageable.

If I left Venice Beach, Lisbon might be the place.

2) Melbourne, Australia

Melbourne feels like a city designed by people who actually thought about how humans want to live.

The coffee culture alone could sustain me. I'm talking about serious coffee, made by people who care deeply about the craft. Coming from California where good coffee is standard, I was impressed that Melbourne matched and often exceeded what I'm used to.

The food scene is extraordinary. Not just high-end restaurants, though those exist. I'm talking about the diversity of everyday eating. You can find authentic Vietnamese, incredible Indian, creative vegan options, weekend markets with produce that makes cooking exciting.

What struck me most was how the city balances urban density with access to nature. You're never far from the ocean or parks or green spaces. People actually use these spaces regularly, not just on special occasions.

The creative and intellectual culture matches what I value. There's a thriving writing community, strong independent bookstores, venues for indie music that reminded me of my blogging days in LA. People read widely and think critically about culture and society.

The work-life balance is noticeably different from America. People actually take their vacation time. There's less of the hustle culture that dominates California, more emphasis on sustainable living rather than constant grinding.

The main drawback is distance. Melbourne is far from everywhere. But if you're looking for a place to actually settle rather than constantly travel, that distance starts feeling less important.

3) San Sebastián, Spain

San Sebastián is small, which was initially concerning. Could I live in a city of under 200,000 after years in Los Angeles?

But the quality of life there is absurd. The food culture is among the best in the world. Not just high-end dining, but everyday eating. The pintxos bars, the markets, the commitment to seasonal ingredients and traditional preparation methods.

As someone who takes food seriously, both professionally and personally, San Sebastián offers endless inspiration. The Basque approach to cuisine emphasizes quality, simplicity, and respect for ingredients. Even as a vegan, I found creative adaptations and vegetable-forward dishes that felt authentic rather than accommodating.

The beach is right there. You can swim before work if you want. The surrounding countryside is stunning. You're close to both mountains and coast, with endless opportunities for hiking and photography.

The pace feels human. People actually know their neighbors. There's community in ways that feel rare in modern cities. The cultural identity is strong without being exclusionary.

The obvious challenge is language. Basque and Spanish dominate, and while many people speak English, you'd need to learn to truly integrate. But that challenge also appeals to me. Learning a language forces you to engage differently with a place.

The smaller size that initially worried me now seems like an advantage. You can know a city this size in ways impossible in major metropolises. You can be part of the community rather than just another anonymous resident.

4) Kyoto, Japan

Kyoto represents something different from the other places on this list. It's not about ease or convenience. It's about being somewhere that would fundamentally change how I see and move through the world.

The attention to detail in Japanese culture appeals to everything I value in my photography and writing. Nothing is casual. Even simple daily activities are performed with care and intention.

The food culture would be challenging as a vegan but not impossible. Japanese cuisine has strong vegetarian traditions through Buddhist influence. Shojin ryori, the Buddhist temple food, is entirely plant-based and incredibly sophisticated. Modern Kyoto also has plant-based restaurants serving creative adaptations of traditional dishes.

What draws me most is the way Kyoto balances preservation with modernity. Ancient temples exist alongside contemporary architecture. Traditional crafts continue while new art forms emerge. There's respect for history without being trapped in it.

The seasons are celebrated in ways we've lost in California's eternal mild weather. Cherry blossoms, autumn leaves, winter snow on temple grounds. The changing seasons structure time differently, create natural rhythms that modern life often erases.

Living in Kyoto would mean accepting being a permanent outsider to some degree. Japanese culture, especially in more traditional cities like Kyoto, maintains boundaries that even long-term foreign residents rarely fully cross. But that outsider status could offer useful perspective for writing and observation.

The challenge would be enormous. Language barrier, cultural differences, visa complications. But sometimes the places that challenge you most are the ones where you grow most.

5) Bangkok, Thailand

Bangkok shouldn't work for me on paper. The heat, the chaos, the pollution, the traffic that makes LA look efficient.

But I've spent enough time there across multiple visits to know that underneath the surface chaos is a city with extraordinary quality of life if you know how to navigate it.

The food scene is unmatched. Street food that costs two dollars rivals what you'd pay fifty dollars for elsewhere. The Thai approach to vegetables and herbs means vegan eating is remarkably easy once you learn key phrases. Markets overflow with tropical produce I can't get in California. The variety and quality of everyday eating exceeds almost anywhere I've been.

The cost of living is absurdly low compared to California. You can live well in Bangkok for a fraction of what Venice Beach costs. That economic breathing room would completely change my relationship with work. Less pressure to monetize everything immediately, more space for creative experimentation and risk-taking.

The creative and digital community is substantial. Writers, photographers, artists, and remote workers have built a thriving scene. Coffee shops designed for working, co-working spaces with fast internet, communities of people doing interesting things outside traditional career paths.

What surprised me most is how livable the chaos becomes. You learn which neighborhoods feel manageable, which times to avoid certain areas, how to use the BTS and MRT to skip the traffic entirely. The parts tourists see are different from where you'd actually live.

The obvious challenges are significant. The heat never stops. The language barrier is real. The visa situation requires navigation. You're far from family and established community.

But Bangkok offers something rare: a major city where you can live well without spending every waking moment worrying about money. Where street food culture means you can eat incredibly well without cooking. Where the pace of life, despite surface chaos, allows for a different relationship with time and productivity.

Conclusion

I'm not packing up tomorrow. Venice Beach is still home. My work is here, my partner is here, my life has roots that matter.

But traveling to sixty countries taught me that home doesn't have to be permanent. That other places could hold your life differently, offer possibilities that your current location can't provide.

These five destinations share certain qualities. Strong food cultures that could sustain me as a vegan. Creative communities where I could find my people. Walkable environments where daily life doesn't require constant driving. Quality of life that feels sustainable rather than exhausting.

They're also places where I could imagine doing my work, building community, creating a life that feels authentic rather than performed.

The value of extensive travel isn't just in seeing new places. It's in understanding what you actually need from a place to thrive. Sixty countries helped me realize what matters most: access to good food and coffee, communities that value creativity and ideas, environments that support both work and life, and spaces that allow for growth rather than stagnation.

Maybe I'll never leave California. Or maybe in a few years, I'll be writing from a café in Lisbon, or hiking outside Portland, or navigating my way through Kyoto with improving Japanese.

The point isn't the destination. It's knowing that options exist, that home is a choice you make rather than a sentence you serve.