From Peru to Portugal — A Personal Account of Sleeping on the Road

One month. Six countries. Eleven Airbnbs. Eight buses and seven planes. Two days without sleep, and I finally arrived in Europe...

After a year and a half living in Peru, I finally packed up my life and set off for a new place to call home. For now, this would be Portugal, the home country of my girlfriend. But to get there, first we would spend the next month travelling through Ecuador, Colombia, and Puerto Rico on our merry way to Europe.

This trip, as I expected, would be a constant shift between different environments, with different beds, different curtains, different temperatures, and different routines. Knowing what I know now about sleep, I knew before I begun that this would certainly challenge someone like me to have consistent sleep routines and quality as I was moving about. And I was right.

So, I wanted to share a little about my journey, specifically the factors of what I would look for, what I would change when I could, and what I would just have to live with while travelling around. I thought this would help people understand my own process.

For anyone who's followed my journey so far or been to one of my talks, you might know that my own sleep history has been complicated and full of strife. When I'm at home, in my own cosy sleep environment, in a good routine, if I'm disciplined and organised, I will get around ten hours of sleep per night.

Yes, ten.

Typically, I go to bed at 9pm and I'll wake up around 7am. Glorious, deep, restful sleep. And this is coming from someone who used to suffer night after night, barely able to get a wink of rest. In fact, I got a comment from my girlfriend who said she had never been with someone with, I quote, "such fucked up sleep".

This actually hurt me quite a bit. I consider myself a veritable sleep pro at this point, but I also understand that I'm not broken; I just became very sensitive to routine, light, temperature, screens, and stress. And if I don't honour how my brain and body work, they will easily be thrown out of balance and I won't be able to switch off when I want to.

This makes it very difficult for someone like me to sleep well while travelling. New environments, inconsistent routines, unfamiliar beds, harsh white Airbnb lighting, and temperatures my body isn't accustomed to. Plus a lot of buses and planes at awkward hours, on-the-go meals with unknown ingredients, and some extra stress from rushing around, trying to make travel hours work, not getting enough work done, and yadah-yadah-yadah.

I'll be honest with you. I didn't sleep that well a lot of the time. Going along the Ecuadorian coast, the humid Colombian cities, and sleeping in awkward bus seats with air conditioning that was either a bit too crisp or hardly working at all. For someone like me with hyper-awareness of the sleep-affecting factors, I could already smell a mile away that some terrible restlessness was basically inevitable.

But my number-one rule in sleep psychology helped me more than anything:

Keep calm. Don't stress over bad sleep or sleep not had. That doesn't help. Just appreciate the rest you did get.

I keep this rule close to my heart. I admittedly do get a bit annoyed at times, especially when I know I haven't followed my own advice, staying on screens too late or eating a big meal just before I go to bed.

So, where did we go, what did I do, what didn't I do, and what can we learn from it all?

Ecuador

For weeks before leaving Peru, I was chronically stressed. I had to find a place for my cat to stay, sort out some legal affairs, sell, ship, store, and pack a house full of belongings, sort flights, sort visas, organise accommodation, and somehow fit work and goodbyes in between the cracks.

Then, on top of everything, the news came in through a friend: Ecuador was in turmoil. Not only did we discover that the city we had booked flights to -- Guayaquil -- was currently among the most dangerous in all of Latin America, full of gun violence, drug trafficking, public murders and armed robberies, but also a huge earthquake had just taken out part of Colombia and heavily affected the north part of Ecuador. We were worried about both.

When we reached Guayaquil, the whole city was living in fear. Armed guards at every door, nobody out walking, and even Ubers considered to have a chance of the driver pulling a gun on you or 'disappearing' you. After four hours at the airport just to get through customs, it was already too late to catch the bus. We would have to stay the night in the city. We were heading to the coast where it was meant to be safer (in some parts), and it was highly recommended to take any buses in broad daylight. Armed busjackings were common on highways in isolated areas, and we would be passing through some en route to Olon, our chosen paradise for the next two weeks.

Naturally, this already filled us with a little anxiety, although I'll tell you now that no harm befell us. We had safe passage the whole trip. What was worse for sleep, in the end, was the temperature.

Olon itself was a charming beach town, with nice cafes, a beautiful beach, and plates of fresh fish, squid, and shrimp for a very reasonable price. We had aircon in the room, which gave us some very restful nights, although the first night we stayed in the Airbnb, at 4am sharp, the most horrific, screeching noise broke out through the night air. Like a dying vulture, like the sound of murder, like the wretched cry of a tortured witch, the awful noise was from some kind of bird perched high in the trees outside. We couldn't believe it. There was no sleeping through it; it was far too loud and far too awful. I even threw stones into the tree to try to scare it away, to no avail. We could only shut the windows and wait for it to stop.

While that was our very first night, fortunately it didn't happen every night. It did happen around three of the nights we were there, though, and each time was as ear-grinding as the last.

The rest of the time, we slept okay. However, if you know me, you'll know I'm a chronic workaholic, and in trying to catch up with lost work hours from travelling around and the aforementioned packing/preparation ordeals, I desperately wanted to make up the hours.

This is one of my biggest ongoing sleep issues. While I smartly invested in prescription-fitted, lab-made, red-lensed blue-light glasses (I call my Eltons -- as they're like Elton John's style of glasses), these will help significantly in protecting my brain from night-time computering, but they won't do much to slow the cogs upstairs if I'm wrapped up in an activity that's recruiting a lot of brain power after dinner.

Late work alone accounted for probably 80% of the times I had difficult or unsatisfying nights. Because I felt indebted to getting more things done in an otherwise busy and unpredictable schedule, I ruined my tomorrow-morning (where I could have gotten more work done) because I fretted to get things done the night before. Oh, the irony...

This is a lesson I don't seem to learn. As a hard-headed 'night owl' of the past, I've always felt more awake, more creative, and more in-the-flow after dark. It's a time I naturally gravitate toward work, somehow, and is even stuck somewhere in my self-perceived identity that I can work better at night without as many distractions. And to a large degree this seems to be true, but it always comes at the cost of the night and the morning after, where I then feel I have to compensate by sleeping in or loading up on caffeine -- once again feeding back into the problem of inconsistent routines or an on-edge nervous system.

When we left Olon, we flew up to the capital, Quito, where we would see some stunning views of nature and the most incredible cathedrals I've ever seen. Quito was a charming city with high-class restaurants and a charming city centre. And while our accommodation there at first glance looked neat, comfy, and reasonably modern, it was completely lacking in airflow.

When we first arrived there, the whole room smelled of floor detergent, and apart from the front door and a small bathroom ventilation fan, there was zero airflow. Needless to say, the stench and heat together were intolerable for someone like me. I'm sensitive to both, and without any kind of fan or aircon, there wasn't much I could do in this situation about either factor. I just had to stay the two nights we had booked with mediocre sleep and try to control the other factors.

We ate early, avoided screens at night, and I made sure to get early-morning sunlight. I tried to air the place out by leaving the front door open, but there was no way to fix everything. Fortunately, the bed was at least comfortable, and we could block most of the outside light with the curtains.

Still, I looked forward to getting out.

Colombia

Our first proper stay in Colombia after crossing the border by bus was the city of Bogota. We had booked a place last minute after our first choice got snatched up, and what resulted was a small but tidy-looking place for a cheaper price. It looked super cute at first, but it would turn out to be even worse than Quito.

For two of us, the bed was small, the lights were harsh, the sheets were low-quality, and the airflow situation was even worse. No fans, no aircon, and only about a quarter of the cubic space our previous place had. We could open a window, but with the blind hanging over it, it was like sleeping in a sauna. And like that, a stifling room soon became a sweaty one. Cheap sheets and awkward pillows didn't help. Once again, all I could do was take notes of where we'd gone wrong and try again next time.

We took an overnight bus to Medellin, which was actually pretty comfortable. But while the seats were great to sit in, they were a nightmare to sleep in. While God had the good grace to gift me with long, slender legs, surely the Devil had a laugh watching me trying to tetris myself this way and that to get a few hours of kip on the road.

And Medellin, even more so than Bogota, was humid. With sweltering days in this jungle city, and the pores of my skin constantly pumping sweat out by the bucket, I made double sure this time to get a bigger, more spacious room -- and with some kind of air circulation. Back in Peru we could leave the window open all night for the ever-cool mountain air. Here, a window or door open meant a shining invitation for swarms of mosquitos. So, we had a fan. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to get a good night of rest. We had blinds, too, which were slightly dysfunctional, but again just enough to keep the room dark.

Until recently, I had a proper blackout sleep mask from Manta Sleep. But having left it on an aeroplane, I returned to my trusty panda bear sleep mask I had bought years ago in a thrift store for 50 cents while travelling in my campervan around New Zealand. "Panda", as I call it, has been a most trusty ally. A bit dorky, maybe, but it's soft and comfortable and keeps most of the light at bay.

Next, we hit the stunning coastal city of Cartagena. Bright-coloured and even hotter and more humid than Medellin, it was fortunate to find that almost every accommodation option (unlike Medellin) had some form of air conditioning. You would work up a sweat simply by existing outside at nighttime, so a cool, dark bedroom was a welcome reprieve. With temperature and light conducive to good sleep there, we actually slept quite deeply. However, the room's lights were bright and harsh white -- terrible for pre-bed routines or late-night navigation. However, I was a clever enough of a cookie to bring my own lightbulb!

Now, you might call me a sleep nerd at this point, and you'd be right. But I will say, bringing my own specialised lightbulb I'd bought from BlockBlueLight was a smart, lightweight addition to my backpack. While most of the lights in the Airbnbs we visited were sealed into the ceiling, in this place we had a bedside lamp whose bulb was replaceable. It allowed us to have relaxing orange evening light that set a good mood and didn't sting our eyes late at night. A true game-changer.

After four nights in Cartagena we headed even further north, past the city where Shakira is from, to a small coastal town near Tayrona National Natural Park. Most accommodation options near the beach were small, only equipped with fans, and had restrictive mosquito nets over the beds (which I hate). Already anticipating a series of sweaty, sticky half-sleeps, I was all too glad to find a bigger place with air conditioning and a proper kitchen to boot. And for sure it was a better option than the other places, but it turned out to be even cheaper than the smaller, hotter places given we could cook for ourselves and book for a longer stay. It was further from the beach, but it was private, had two bedrooms, and an outdoor tub. What luxury! Still, as always, not everything was as it seemed...

Ironically, while well-equipped with air conditioning and blackout curtains (in one of the rooms), the aircon was placed to blow down at the bed where our faces would be. If it wasn't set at an almost arctic temperature, I would stay hot and bothered during the night, but for my girlfriend it was too much. It would either be too hot for me or too cold for her, and there was apparently no in-between that worked for us both. What's more, even at low fan speeds and angled away from our faces, the air would always bounce off the wall and circulate in some way back to us. My girlfriend put her pillow at the other end to avoid it, and we both refused to move to the other bedroom where there was a bright green light unavoidably shining in through the curtain.

This place felt so close! It had a pitch-black room, working aircon, and a comfy bed of reasonable size. And yet, it was still bothersome. We couldn't sleep with the aircon, and we couldn't sleep without it. Even with my specialty bulbs, my Eltons, and Panda together, an arctic breeze on the face during the night was just not something we were used to.

But again, I would try to compensate in other ways.

The house itself was very modern but it was awfully dark inside. Almost no natural lighting. I would have to leave the house entirely in the morning to get outside into the bright Colombian sunshine. We were drinking coffee, for which I had brought magnesium to compensate. We were eating fried local foods, for which I had brought vitamin E to combat potential inflammation. Unfortunately I was not at liberty to bring my entire stock of helpful supplements, and none would have been useful against the vicious aircon's placement, but I would keep calm, sleep when I could, do what I could, take naps when necessary, and otherwise just continue to make the most of the juicy morning and midday sunshine, eat the fresh mangos from the trees in the street, and get some daily exercise. It wasn't a perfect remedy for a perfect night of sleep, but it did help me to get enough of it to keep me functional and happy.

The Final Leg

In the final stretch from Colombia to Portugal, we passed through Puerto Rico and Spain. Three buses and three flights to the final destination, where I am now, and it was not easy. While again I don't claim perfection here, I also don't blame myself for not sleeping well on buses and planes. I did have some tricks I used, but it was another poor exit out of Puerto Rico.

While we had a really comfortable place in PR, there was some light leak around the window. Not terrible, but not great either. The aircon worked well . . . at first. I had a great night of sleep the first night. Then, the second night, I woke up in the early morning sweating and stressed. The aircon had turned itself off in the night. A bit hot and bothered, I turned it back on, went through some of my 'back to bed' ritual, and then finally got back to sleep. But then I woke up again. The aircon had turned off again! Annoyed this time that I had barely slept in another stifling room, it turned out that the fuse had triggered (just for the aircon), leaving us stewing in the Puerto Rican heat.

With awkward timing of heavy, late-night meals in restaurants with glaring white lights, this was also not helpful in sailing into slumberland. So, we had to make the rest of the journey without much sleep.

Again, the buses were terrible. The plane too. But I'll tell you honestly -- I didn't help myself much. The time leaving PR wasn't too late, but by the clock in Madrid where we would arrive, it was already early morning. I adjusted my phone clock to mentally prepare for this new schedule, but I admittedly fell into temptation of watching films with my girlfriend on the seat screens -- of course bright, up close, and destined to prevent me from sleeping a wink. I knew better from a mile off, and yet I made the conscious decision to do something that would keep my brain wide awake.

What's more, I had left my Eltons (red prescription glasses) in the bus back to Cartagena. An expensive mistake -- both for the wallet and for my sleep. I had no protection from the bright screens except willpower, which had already failed me.

My message to you? Learn from me. I did smart things, and I did dumb things, but it would tend to be the dumb things I did that stopped the smart things from working.

Now, I am in Portugal, staying in the stunning city of Lisbon. Everyone here wakes late, eats late, and avoids the sunshine and the near-unbearable heat that comes with it. It's taken four days to adjust properly and I'm still getting used to everything. But slowly, piece by piece, I'm reclaiming my routine so that I will in turn reclaim my sleep, my health, and my productivity.

Thank you for reading.