“digital no!-mads”

estimated reading time: 5 minutes (or 60 reels) – it’s my first piece of investigative journalism¹ so it’s longer sorry!!!

1. bit of an overstatement ofcourse, I just visited some websites lol ↩︎

If I want to take the train, to visit my family in the north of the Netherlands, it will cost me around 60 euros. If I want to fly to Portugal, it would cost me 45 euros (no checked bag tho). So, embarrassed about my CO2 emissions? No, not really. Flygskam (vliegschaamte, or flight shame) is not part of all the emotions I feel on a daily basis. Because well, public transport in the Netherlands is partially owned by the state and therefore, I blame the state. Yes people, that’s how easy it is to live a life of repentance, blame the state and move on! (take notes Luther).
Anyway, I’m not the first person with these dubious ethical considerations; two friends from Birmingham had the same idea, and decided to meet up in Málaga, because it was cheaper to fly to Spain than getting on the train to see each other.

Okay so now you’ve sort of got the idea how my moral compass is set – altruism? I don’t know her! Much like our travel choices, our relocation decisions are often driven more by economic incentives than ethical concerns.
Now, let’ s talk about disrupting local communities and economies for the sake of one’ s own grotesquely differentiating concepts of ‘happiness’ and ´freedom’: Becoming a digital nomad.

‘Should I…move here?’ a question inevitably asked by anyone who has visited a city or country that has a median temperature difference of +10 degrees from their own place of residence. Combine that difference in temperature with a vibrant food and culture scene, friendly locals, and throw in some dazzling vistas, and voila, you’re ready to leave your country behind and become a total unwelcome disruptor of a local economy that is crippling under the weight of these delusional immigrants. Yes, immigrants, not ‘digital nomads’ or ‘expats’, which is just western-washing.

In fact, it was a question I also asked myself when I first arrived in Lisbon in the summer of 2013. Totally enamored by its charming streets, pink and pastel houses (pastel wasn’t even trending then!), and overall laid-back vibe, the thought of moving did arise. But I was only 18 then and had just started studying, so I opted for just returning to the city as much as I could (9 times).
However, there were others who, like me, visited Lisbon in 2013, had the same cupid-arrow shot directly into their hearts by the city, but actually had the balls to follow through.
And thus began the notorious process of change that many European and European-favored cities go through: gentrification.

Fast forward to 2025, and Lisbon has now entered the notorious ‘Fodor’s No List’. It is a list of destinations to reconsider visiting, because the rise of popularity is becoming detrimental. The list ‘serves to highlight destinations where tourism is placing unsustainable pressures on the land and local communities.’ For example, Koh Samui is being listed because of the wildly popular HBO-show The White Lotus, currently setting place on this magical Thai island.
Obviously there are places which thrive and survive solely because of tourism – think Bali-, but once unchecked development is growing faster than local governance can keep up, it will inevitably lead to problems for the local community. The subgroup that is almost never included in these development plans and therefore excluded from taking any profit, in any form whatsoever.

Lisbon has somewhat undergone the same development. Around 2013 Portugal was amid a financial crisis, and to save it from bankruptcy, government decided to step in. But their solution was short-term, focusing on attracting foreign capital through tax breaks, golden visas, and policies that favored real estate investors over local residents. Rents soared, neighborhoods changed, and locals were gradually pushed out.

Moral of the story: Lisbon’s gentrification and touristification were state-engineered, driven by short-term strategies that prioritized private capital over public good. There’s an urgent need to pivot toward long-term sustainability. Cities like Amsterdam offer a partial blueprint—banning ocean cruises, slashing river cruises, cutting back vacation rentals, and halting new hotel construction. Whether it’s enough? That remains to be seen.

But where does that leave me? A foreigner chomping away at pastéis de nata while renting an apartment at half the price of one in Amsterdam? Where does it leave the American millennial dropping a small fortune on a canal house, never bothering to learn Dutch? Or the person fleeing war, seeking nothing more than safety and a chance to reunite with family?

It’s not a fair comparison—these situations don’t sit side by side neatly. Still, we’re all trying to fit into systems that were never built with us in mind. What happens when your dreams don’t align with the frameworks you’re dropped into?
Maybe that’s too much existential spiraling for one blog post. Like Katy Perry floating in space this week staring at a flower while the literal whole fucking universe yawns around her, some things are just too big and absurd to fully grasp.

Anyway. Lighter topic next time (maybe). Thanks for reading.