• At 55, I thought I would have already figured out where I want to retire in the next few years.
• Instead, I've been living out of suitcases and housesitting in different places to see what I like.
• I still don't know where I will retire, but I do have a much better idea of what I want — and don't.

I always thought I'd be settled somewhere for good by age 55, with a comfortable home, established garden, and chest freezer in the garage.

But after growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, raising my kids in Seattle, and becoming an empty nester, I realized I had no idea where I wanted to settle down.

For the first time in more than 20 years, I suddenly had the freedom to choose where I wanted to live.

So at 52, I started housesitting in exchange for places to stay so I could travel without depleting my savings. I quickly realized how much I enjoyed the nomadic lifestyle and how this gave me the opportunity to test out places I might eventually want to live in.

After a few months, I liked it so much that I gave away almost everything I owned, put the rest in storage, and decided to do it full-time.

That was almost three years ago. Since then, I've lived in dozens of cities, towns, and remote islands, from northern Washington to the southeastern coast of Mexico's Baja California peninsula.

Housesitting has changed my mind about what I thought I wanted

I typically stay in each home for two weeks to three months at a time, which allows me to get to know a new place without signing a lease, buying a house, or committing to a community.

Instead, I chat with locals, visit the library and grocery store, explore nearby nature trails, and try to imagine what it would be like to live there.

I ask myself a lot of questions: Can I tolerate this climate? Do I feel able to connect with this community? Could I live without whatever thing this place might be missing … which is sometimes as simple as my beloved Trader Joe's?

Throughout my stays, I've learned new things about myself and what I really want.

For example, I'd long pictured myself settling in a city since I've spent most of my life in major metropolitan areas.

So, I was thrilled to book a housesitting job right across the street from my old high school in San Francisco. I couldn't wait to walk the same streets I did in my youth and revisit my old haunts.

But the nostalgia wore off quickly, and a $105 street-cleaning ticket reminded me of the hassles of city life. I realized that a noisy, crowded, expensive city isn't where I want to settle after all.

These days, less traffic, more green space, and a slower pace feel more like my style.

After that stint in the city, I went to the other extreme and booked a multi-week housesit on a remote Pacific Northwest island where the closest grocery store was a ferry ride away — long enough to require ice packs and a cooler to get my frozen food home before it defrosted.

At first, I couldn't imagine staying there for more than a few weeks, but I quickly fell in love with the solitude and have returned several times.

I realized that being surrounded by water, going days without talking to another person, hearing owls hoot at night, and watching a mother deer and her fawn wander across the yard made the extra effort of island life worthwhile.

I was willing to plan errands around the ferry schedule and give up some of the conveniences I'd always taken for granted for that kind of peace.

Turns out, I'm more open to living in a remote place than I expected.

Now, I'm rethinking what it means to settle down — and if I'd even stay in the US

I'd also never even considered moving abroad until I booked a five-week housesitting gig for an American woman who had retired in La Paz, Mexico.

I felt inspired by my client's willingness to give up familiar comforts and conveniences to risk starting over in a new country in search of the life she wanted.

Although I'm not sure Mexico is where I want to settle, I loved my time in the Sonoran Desert and haven't ruled out retiring outside of the US. This experience helped me learn what living abroad was really like and realize I'm more capable of making that jump than I ever imagined if it's what I ultimately choose.

After trying out more than 50 locations in three years, I still don't know where I eventually want to retire. But I know I want to be somewhere I can walk in nature, enjoy some solitude without feeling isolated, and engage with a community when I'm ready for company.

Above all, I'm searching for a place that makes me feel at home — even when I'm visiting for the first time.

In 19th-century Munich, a woman with no formal banking experience began promising ordinary people extraordinary returns on their savings. Workers, servants, craftsmen and farmers flocked to her door, carrying the money they had spent years accumulating. Some mortgaged their homes or sold their land to take advantage of her generosity. For a time, the money flowed so freely that her business appeared almost invincible.

The woman was Adele Spitzeder, a former actress who became one of the most notorious financial swindlers in 19th-century Germany. Her private banking enterprise, popularly known as the Dachauer Bank, promised returns of as much as 10 per cent a month. But behind the apparent prosperity lay a simple deception: much of the money paid to earlier investors came not from profitable investments, but from the deposits of newcomers.

• I moved to the US from South Korea when I was five, but I've traveled back almost every year since.
• The country is so much more than just Seoul, its popular capital city.
• Some of my favorite lesser-known South Korean cities are Suwon, Incheon, and Gyeongju.

I was born in South Korea and moved to the United States when I was 5 years old. I've traveled back almost every year since.

Usually, when people ask me for South Korean travel recommendations, what they really want are ideas for things to do in Seoul.

I can understand why tourists flock to the capital city of South Korea: Seoul has culture, technology, tons of entertainment, and amazing fashion and cuisine.

However, if you ask me, you're missing out if you don't visit some of the other, lesser-known cities that contribute to South Korea's heartbeat.

Here are four of my favorite cities to visit in South Korea that aren't Seoul.

I always go the distance for Busan

About four hours south of Seoul lies Busan. Growing up, my family visited this city over the summer to swim, soak up the sun, and eat incredibly fresh seafood.

You don't have to treat Busan exclusively as a warm-weather getaway, though: My favorite time to visit Busan is actually in the fall, when the days are sunny and the nights are breezy with sea-salt air.

My favorite destination in Busan is Gamcheon Culture Village, a steep slope dotted with hundreds of colorfully painted homes.

During the Korean War, refugees first settled in this area. Later, Gamcheon was restored and enhanced with brightly colored exterior paint to attract tourism.

Today, Gamcheon Village stands as a beloved landmark in Busan, where visitors can get lost in the twisted alleyways and enjoy stunning views overlooking the hilly scenery.

I also strongly recommend that anyone who visits Busan dedicate one morning to waking up early and watching the sunrise over Haeundae Beach.

In my opinion, the view alone can wash away any negative feelings, even for a brief moment.

When you're in Busan, don't forget to check out the Jagalchi Market for excellent fish and the Nampo-dong Food Alley for the best street food.

Suwon is a chill day trip from Seoul

If you want to stay in Seoul for most of your trip but crave an easy day trip with a laid-back vibe, Suwon is your answer. Whenever I take the hour-and-a-half-long bus trip, excitement brews in my stomach.

The main attraction of this very chill city is the Hwaseong Fortress, a towering stone-and-brick fortress that passes through the center of Suwon. It was built in the 18th century to protect the city, and in 1997, it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site.

I love to walk the length of the fortress — because of the lack of high-rise buildings, it's an excellent way to take in the city's scenery, which includes a mix of traditional houses, cozy little cottages, and low-rise industrial buildings.

Running along the length of the historical site, the city has many unassuming, cute cafés where you can get delicious coffee drinks and desserts.

It's nice to sit down outside one of them and lose track of time, soaking up the beautiful street art that paints the alleyways of Suwon.

Gyeongju is rich with history

Once the capital of the ancient Silla Kingdom, Gyeongju is filled with landmarks that bring the country's deep history to life.

From the grand Bulguksa Temple and the mystical Seokguram Grotto to the ancient royal tombs scattered throughout Tumuli Park, the city offers a rare glimpse into Korea's royal past and Buddhist origins.

Strolling through Gyeongju, especially in the later hours of the day, immerses you in a peaceful blend of quiet ponds and lantern-lit walkways.

You can't leave Gyeongju without trying Hwangnam-ppang, a small soft pastry filled with sweet red-bean filling. This treat is a local specialty of Gyeongju — so much so that locals and visitors refer to it as Gyeongju bread.

You can find this treat at various food shops and vendors throughout the city.

Incheon is more than just an airport hub

Anyone who flies into South Korea will instantly recognize Incheon, at least by name. It is home to the country's largest international airport.

Long before the airport's creation in 2001, though, there was the Incheon port through which goods from China arrived and were sold.

The port also paved the way for the establishment of Incheon's Chinatown, where the blend of Chinese and Korean flavors endures in the neighborhood's small slew of standout restaurants.

I recommend taking a walk through the streets and alleyways of the neighborhood while munching on street food. I'm personally partial to the giant fried dumplings and tanghulu, or skewers of sugar-coated fruit, that I've enjoyed there.

If you have a chance, enjoy a sit-down meal of jjajangmyeon, a Chinese-Korean black bean noodle dish, and soak up some of the bustling area's history and culture.

This story was originally published on December 24, 2025, and most recently updated on October 19, 2026.

“As a child, I thought of the burrito as something predictable, filling, and reliable. It would be years before I saw it as a source of political conviction; something that once split my family’s loyalty between their hungry children and a revolutionary cause.” In this essay at Orion, Victoria Blanco writes about her Abuelita, whose family had owned a burrería in downtown Juárez during the Mexican Revolution, and how she worked hard there through childhood, making burritos for Pancho Villa’s troops—an army fighting for a better life for the next generation. “The food we ate was built for movement,” she writes, “the same way we were.” Blanco reflects on the burrito as a symbol resistance, the borderland, and belonging.

I found the unspoken parts of Abuelita’s childhood when I was working in a university archive as a student, examining photographs no one in my family had ever seen. One image stopped me completely: a rooftop terrace at the Paso del Norte hotel, where well-dressed Americans held cocktails and binoculars, watching the war across the river as though it were a form of entertainment. On the other side of that same river—a river with two names, Río Bravo on one bank, Rio Grande on the other—men were falling from gunfire while children went without food so that revolutionaries could have the sustenance they needed to keep fighting. I sat with that photograph for a long time, thinking about my abuelita, a girl somewhere in that city while Americans sipped cocktails and watched her world from a hotel roof.

10/19/1789: Chief Justice John Jay takes oath.

The post Today in Supreme Court History: October 19, 1789 appeared first on Reason Magazine.