Reflections From a Backpack: Learning From Burnout
I’ll be honest — part of this section was travel was difficult in ways I didn’t expect. After spending weeks moving purposefully toward Patagonia and spending weeks in mountains and nature, arriving in Buenos Aires was a shock. The energy of the city and people, the options, the decisions — it all became overwhelming. I’ve generally see myself as someone who can handle a challenge, but I found myself at my limits.
I experienced a kind of travel burnout I’ve since learned many long-term travellers know well. The very things that once excited me — new cultures , a new group of people, a beautiful neighborhood — began to feel like inconveniences. What I really needed was rest. I loved the city: its old European-style buildings, cafés on every corner, the pulse of a place where every day and night held possibility. But I didn’t have the energy to meet it. It was like being at a feast full of my favorite foods but having no appetite. And that brought guilt — guilt that I couldn’t enjoy this amazing place the way I thought I should.
One morning, I set out with a simple plan: buy a pair of sunglasses. I stepped out of my hostel and into the bright and busy streets, trying to escape the tourist-heavy area without straying too far. But before long, I was literally walking in circles. My mind pulled me in every direction, and I didn’t have the clarity or energy to make a choice. This was burnout. Eventually, I realized what was really going on — I didn’t need to make another decision but needed to rest.
At first, I judged myself for not being strong enough to push through. But with time, I began to listen. My body was asking me to slow down and integrate everything I’d already experienced. It wasn’t easy. My default mode is always to move, to explore, to do more. Even during the rest of my time in South America, I had to keep reminding myself to slow down, over and over again. I’m learning to listen more to my body and what it is telling me I need.
This season of burnout became a turning point. After nearly seven months of travel across seven countries, I saw clearly that this pace isn’t sustainable. And more importantly, it’s not what I’m truly looking for. I want to go deeper — not wider. To explore slower, off the beaten path. To find a new rhythm of life, not just rack up destinations.
This journey was never just about seeing all of the world — it was about learning with the world as my backdrop. This journey is about discovering myself, understanding cultures, exploring what it means to contribute, and finding joy in the now. I realized I don’t need to go fast to do any of that. In fact, moving too quickly can be a hinderance.
So moving forward, I’m shifting (gears). My next chapter will be rooted in service and learning — staying in places longer, volunteering, getting my hands dirty, and understanding the complexities of our world from the ground up. That’s what I want.
And still, within the challenge, there were bright moments. I wandered aimlessly, sat in cafés, met kind faces. There were late nights with new friends and slow mornings of people-watching. No part of travel, or life, is all good or bad.
Like a meal, even the most delicious food needs time to digest. If we just keep eating, we’ll miss the subtle flavors of what comes next. I see now that I still love this journey — I just need to slow down and give myself the space to live deeply in it.
Discovering New Places
Buenos Aires (Pop. 16.4 Million)
I stayed for a week in Argentina’s capital, Buenos Aires. As I mentioned in my reflection, it was a rollercoaster of emotions that taught me a lot in the process. I spent more of my time in the historical core of the city and found it so large that it was easy to get lost in for hours.
Many people from southern Argentina had warned me about the capital’s dangers—cautioning me to watch for pickpockets and avoid nighttime outings. Yet I felt completely safe during my stay, experiencing no close calls or hearing any stories of misfortune. This reminded me to keep an open mind and form my own impressions rather than solely relying on others’ warnings.
My favourite experiences in Buenos Aires were just walking around. There was always something cool to find – from a graveyard as big as a city block to a theatre that had been turned a bookstore.
I also spent a lot of time here at cafes. Sitting and writing was one of the ways I could slow down. Many of the cafes are open until 1 or 2 am and I often lingered until closing time, usually with a glass of delicious Argentinian wine.
I was surprised by how expensive things were in Argentina. A typical meal often cost over $20, and even a few pieces of fruit could cost more than $10. Prices had tripled from just a year or two ago due to inflation and changes in government policy.
The country operates with two exchange rates: the official rate and the “blue dollar” rate. This unofficial street rate better reflects the actual demand for foreign currencies. When exchanging US dollars on the street, I received about 20% more than the official rate. I’d seen similar systems in Bolivia and learned this is typical in countries with weakening currencies.
While most things in the city were costly, baked goods and empanadas remained affordable. These, along with meals I made at my hostel, helped me stay within my budget.
Street musicians are a common sight here. They perform a song or two before politely asking for donations. Their music helped connect me to the local culture, adding vibrancy to the city’s atmosphere.
I was struck by how happy and lively people seemed, despite the difficult economic situation. Instead of staring at phones, most people were engaged in animated conversations. The locals I met seemed to understand the value of living in the present moment more than what I was used to back home. They always made time for slow meals, a glass of wine, and leisurely conversations.
A highlight here was meeting Ricardo, a friendly local. We were working out at the same park, and after seeing each other at the same spot for a few days, we began talking in Spanish and became quick friends, bonding over our love of fitness and travel.
Ricardo offered to show me around the city after one of our workouts. We walked through soem higher-end neighbourhoods and explained the wealth in the city and some of its problems with disparity.
A unique find was the micro theatre (Microtheatro) – short 15 minute plays throughout an evening. I rounded up a few people from my hostel to check a few out. We grabbed beers between shows, and when it was time for a play, a group of 12 our so of us were ushered into rooms no bigger than a bedroom.
In these rooms, a few actors captured our attention for the short performance. While the Spanish was too fast for me to understand, the exaggerated movements and few words that I caught were enough to keep me following the plot. These ranged from a girlfriend snoring in bed to an alien accidentally landing in Argentina.
Uruguay
A short ferry ride from Buenos Aires brought me to Uruguay. I knew little about this small country, except for stories from a coworker whose wife grew up there. Memories of our conversations intrigued me enough to explore it on my way to Brazil.
Home to just 4 million people, Uruguay is one of South America’s smallest countries. I arrived without a specific itinerary and I embraced the country’s leisurely rhythm as I traveled up the coast.
Colonia de Sacramento (Pop. 32,000)
I spent my first few days in the town of Colonia de Sacramento. Most visitors stay in the historic quarter where stone buildings and narrow cobblestone streets tell stories of its colonial past.
There wasn’t much to do here than sight see, but I enjoyed wandering around and taking in some great sunsets.
Montevideo (Pop. 1.4 million)
After a couple of days in Colonia, I headed for the capital, Montevideo. I continue hitchhiking as a way to both save money and meet more people. Alexander picked me up, and we got to know each other during our few hours together.
He told me he works as a truck driver in Uruguay and earns a good living. While many people struggle with the cost of living here, he explained that he makes enough to live contently.
Though his destination was 30 minutes short of the city, he offered to drive me all the way to ensure I arrived safely. He even treated me to a burger along the way. I’ve often spoken about the kindness of strangers, and I’ll continue to do so as long as it holds true.
While not as dazzling as Buenos Aires, Montevideo charmed me with its waterfront and historic buildings. I spent most of my time exploring the city and visiting with a family who hosted me.
Like many other South American capitals, Montevideo is home to a high proportion of the country’s population (over 1/3 of Uruguayans). This concentration exists primarily because the capital offers better infrastructure and job opportunities.
I also discovered a museum about the famous 1972 Andes Mountains airplane crash, which involved many Uruguayans. The survivors endured freezing conditions (as low as -30°C) for 72 days before being rescued. Their story is a testament to the human spirit and our capacity for resilience.
My favourite experience of this leg of travel was definitely staying with a host family in Uruguay. Using Servas International (a nonprofit that promotes cultural exchange), I met Rossana and her son Gianfranco, who took me in for a few days. Rossana has traveled extensively and believes in the value of shared stories. Gianfranco is currently studying electrical engineering, and we bonded over the tribulations of studying engineering, the politics of Uruguay, and working out.
While staying with them in Uruguay, I found the pace of life to be much slower and more social. There was no rush through meals—we would sit for hours cooking breakfast or dinner together. It was nice to experience the contrast between how I used to live in Canada, eating alone and rushing through meals, and this worry-free lifestyle.
Perspectives like these provide cultural contrast to how we live. While we may be more productive by moving faster, does it really serve our wellbeing?
Gianfranco and I teamed up to cook a few meals together. On my last night, I cooked one of my favourite dishes: coconut chicken lentil curry. finding all of the ingredients proved difficult as I was again reminded that the abundance of choice offered in Canada is not in most other countries.
Cabo Polonio (Pop. 100-1000)
One of my last stops was Cabo Polonio, a remote coastal village in a National Park. It’s less of a town than an assortment of houses built randomly on a small peninsula. Due to limited infrastructure, we had to take a 4×4 truck across sand dunes from the nearest highway. The settlement has no roads or street lights, and many houses rely on solar power and batteries for electricity.
Cabo Polonio is known for being a hippy surf town that fills up in the high season of summer as surfers make this their home for a few months.
I stayed in a hostel here for a few days and took in the slow pace of living – sleeping in, running barefoot along the beach, visiting with people, and stargazing.
Being here reminded me once again that life offers many different paths. While I had grown accustomed to Canada’s fast-paced lifestyle to make a living, I keep encountering people who found contentment in slower rhythms, happy to live with less. When we have the simple things that truly fulfill us—community, nature, and basic needs—we don’t need to seek escape in the pursuit of more.
Mate Culture
Writing about my time in Argentina and Uruguay wouldn’t feel complete without talking about mate. It’s not just a drink here — it’s part of the culture.
Mate is a hot tea made from the dried leaves of yerba mate, a plant high in caffeine. It’s prepared in a small gourd (also called a mate) and sipped through a metal straw with a built-in filter called a bombilla (pronounced ‘bom-beesha’.)
The taste is earthy, grassy, and a little bitter. Like green tea, but stronger, more complex with hints of wood, herbs, even tobacco. It’s not for everyone. But for me, I grew to love it. The flavour became tied to memories — of smiling faces, shared stories, and quiet moments that made me feel at home.
Mate isn’t just about the taste. It’s about the ritual.
People here carry their mate sets everywhere — a gourd in one hand, a thermos tucked under the arm. In parks, on buses, at work. I’d see people take a seat, pour hot water, and pass the mate to a friend.
It’s always shared. One person, the cebador, is in charge. They refill the gourd and pass it around. You drink the whole serving, then hand it back. There’s no need for extra cups. Just one gourd, one straw, one circle.
This rhythm of sharing says a lot about the culture here. People love to talk. To linger. To be together.
Mate slows you down. You can’t buy it ready-made at a store — you carry your own, make it yourself, and share it with others. There’s something beautiful about that. A small act of inconvenience that makes room for connection.
Waiting your turn in the circle teaches patience. You sit, you listen, you talk. You’re not checking your phone. You’re present. It’s a quiet rebellion against the rush of modern life.
Mate gave me more than a caffeine buzz. It gave me a window into the heart of this place.
Final Thoughts
My weeks in Buenos Aires and Uruguay marked a pivot in the way I’ve been travelling – from wanting to see as much as possible to slowing down and finding depth where I am.
As I write this update, I’m sitting outside on the Moroccan coutryside. I’m at a farm where I’ll be volunteering for a few weeks. I’ve taken the lessons from these weeks and am putting them into practice: slowing down, finding routine, and finding new ways to learn and contribute.
My last stop in South America was Brazil which I’ll write about in my next update. When I sit to write about my experiences, I still can’t believe that I’m living this life – moving through the world and trusting that a path continues to emerge in the unknown.
I’m grateful every day for the opportunites I’ve been provided. My hope is that by sharing these stories and lessons learned along the way, they might spark something meaningful in your own journey too.
“Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead, let life live through you.” – Rumi
With Love,
Adam
…Very interesting and beautifully written Adam. I’m grateful, that through your writings, I’m able to learn about and experience a bit of each place you travel to❣️🙃🙏