Today, we’re attending a luncheon in the main dining room with a handful of fellow nomads, people who, like us, have somehow stretched the boundaries of “home” into something fluid and ever-shifting. The gathering was arranged through a simple Facebook post, one of those casual invitations that ripple outward and magically pull together strangers who share a lifestyle that’s anything but ordinary. As we prepared this morning, sipping our usual cups of coffee in the Promenade Café, I found myself smiling at the thought of meeting others who also live with their lives packed neatly (or not so neatly) into suitcases.

There’s always something comforting about being together where everyone understands the quirks, joys, and occasional predicaments of full-time travel. Not everyone travels like we do…slow, deliberate, mindful of budgets, mobility needs, and the ebb and flow of energy that varies from day to day. Some nomads race around the world with gusto, checking off countries at lightning speed. Others settle for months at a time in a single spot, creating a temporary home wherever they land. And then there are the cruise-based nomads, much like us, who find a sense of continuity in familiar ship hallways, predictable dining venues, and the friendly nods of crew members who recognize us from past voyages.

I imagine today’s luncheon will be filled with those delightful travel tales that start with, “You won’t believe what happened in…” and usually end with laughter or a gentle sigh of recognition. There’s a shared language among travelers: the understanding that plans fall apart, flights get canceled, knees get injured, luggage goes missing, and yet somehow it all becomes part of a cherished memory. And then there are the stories of chance encounters, meeting someone on a bus in Vietnam or at a café in Barcelona who later becomes a lifelong friend. Every traveler has one of those stories tucked away.

For us, moments like this luncheon offer a welcome sense of grounding. As perpetual travelers, we don’t have a neighborhood block party or family gatherings to attend. Our community is scattered across continents and oceans, held together by social media, serendipity, and shared values. Today, that community becomes tangible as we sit around a table, passing bread baskets and exchanging names, hometowns (if one still claims such a thing), and travel philosophies.

I can almost picture the energy at the table(s) already, curious faces leaning in, eager to hear how others manage their routines, their health, their finances, their emotional well-being while living on the move. Some will undoubtedly be new to the lifestyle, their eyes bright with anticipation and the thrill of possibility. Others will be seasoned veterans, with a calm steadiness that comes only from years of navigating airports, time zones, and unexpected mishaps with a practiced grace.

Part of me is always intrigued by the small details of how others make this lifestyle work. Do they pack light or carry everything they might need for any eventuality? Do they prefer cruises, long-term rentals, RV travel, or a patchwork of all three? What do they miss most? What do they value most? These questions inevitably weave their way into conversations, revealing the deeply personal motivations that keep each traveler moving.

At the heart of it all, though, is connection. Even if our paths differ wildly, the desire to see the world, to stretch beyond the familiar, and to wake up each day with curiosity as our compass is something we all share. That’s what makes today’s luncheon feel special as a gentle reminder that we’re not alone in choosing this unpredictable yet rewarding life.

By the end of the meal, I’m sure we’ll walk away with new acquaintances, fresh perspectives, and maybe even plans to meet up again somewhere across the globe. For now, we’re simply grateful for the chance to sit among kindred spirits and celebrate the extraordinary, unconventional lives we’ve chosen to live.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, November 24, 2015: