• This summer, I took a four-day Amtrak trip with my spouse, and worked remotely the entire journey.
• I loved working in the café car while taking in views of the Mississippi River and the Great Plains.
• Even though the internet wasn't reliable, it was a great experience that I can't wait to do again.

This summer, my spouse and I decided to take the longest Amtrak trip we've ever taken — three trains from Washington, DC, to Vancouver over four days.

My partner, who is a teacher, had a break between the school year and the summer program, so this adventure was the perfect excuse to relax, disconnect from the world, and enjoy the train's views. That was, unfortunately, not the case for me.

Since I have an office job with limited vacation time, I decided I would work remotely throughout the entire trip. Even though I had my boss's permission to work on the train and had packed all my essentials, I still wondered how successful this endeavor would be.

Turns out, it was more challenging than I anticipated, but still worth the hassle.

I made sure to prepare for any WiFi outages and pack accordingly.

Before the trip, I researched whether the trains would have WiFi, but found that it could vary by route.

Since I wasn't sure how reliable my internet options would be on board, I made sure to download the most important documents onto my computer instead of just relying on the cloud. This way, even if there was an unstable connection, I'd still be able to access them.

Additionally, I made sure to have my phone's hotspot at the ready for whenever there wasn't WiFi on the train.

And just as an extra precaution, I made a point of scheduling any important calls for either before or after our train rides, so that I wouldn't risk losing signal while speaking with my team.

To prevent any other hiccups, I packed everything I could think of that I might need: my work laptop, my portable monitor, all the appropriate cords and chargers, and my planner for anything I needed to do on paper.

The roomette's privacy was great, but it didn't have enough outlets.

On two of our three train rides, we booked a roomette, a small bedroom with two seats facing each other that would convert into bunks at night.

The internet was spotty in there, but I was still able to wrap up the last emails of the day without any problems.

On the first train ride from DC to Chicago, the roomette had two power outlets, but on our journey from Chicago to Seattle, it had only one — forcing my spouse and me to take turns charging our devices.

I loved working in the café car.

Sometimes, the roomette felt pretty cramped, so I took my work setup to the café car as often as I could.

Not only was there plenty of room for me to spread out with my laptop and second screen, but I could also witness amazing views — like the Mississippi River or the Great Plains — from the window.

However, since there weren't any power outlets in the café car, I was only able to be productive for as long as my computer and phone batteries lasted, which was about 2 hours. Then, once everything had run out of power, I had to return to the roomette and plug everything in, which disrupted my workflow.

I didn't think about how my hotspot wouldn't be reliable in rural areas.

Since there was only stable WiFi on one of our three trains, I was relying heavily on my hotspot for most of the trip. But by the third day, the cellular signal kept getting spotty as we entered more rural areas of the country, making my hotspot less reliable.

Because of the weak connection, I couldn't access my team's folders, so I had to email my boss a report instead of uploading it to SharePoint.

I panicked a little, since we're not supposed to save documents directly to our computers, but this was my only option without a consistent signal.

When we sat in coach, I could barely get any work done.

For the last leg of our trip from Seattle to Vancouver, we sat in coach instead of reserving a roomette.

We were able to sit at a small table, but it was too cramped to take out my laptop, and there wasn't any space to work in my seat either. This was the only portion of the trip where it was impossible to do any work, and it really made me miss my roomette.

Even though working on the train was challenging, the station lounges were perfect.

Whenever we had train delays, I would work at the Amtrak stations, which were great places to be productive.

The station in DC had a place to stash our suitcases, decent WiFi, and various tables and chairs. The one in Chicago was also a great size, was well-lit, and had a strong internet connection and plenty of seating.

Similarly, the upper level of the Amtrak station in Seattle had a small art gallery and sitting area — a perfectly comfortable space for me to do my job.

It wasn't the easiest way to work, but I'd do it again.

Although working on these trains wasn't always smooth, I still had a great experience and would definitely love to do it again.

Next time, though, I would pack a power bank to charge my phone and monitor without needing an outlet, and overprepare for a lack of WiFi.

Overall, even though working remotely on Amtrak trains had its challenges, I loved the stunning views and the chance to see new sights rather than just sitting at my desk.

Business Insider reached out to Amtrak for comment.

• I enjoyed living in a small, one-bedroom apartment with my family of three for years.
• Once we moved to a house more than triple the size, I totally changed my minimalist mindset.
• Now that we live in a bigger space, I can't imagine going back to living small or minimally.

When my husband and I bought our apartment in Kyiv back in 2017, we were thrilled to finally have a family nest of our own.

It was a cozy, 500-square-foot place with one bedroom, and we meticulously planned to optimize every inch of it. Our kitchen table doubled as my workspace, and our living room couch became the guest bed whenever family stayed over.

Hosting required pure creative problem-solving and, with limited seating around our small table, I'd sometimes feed guests in shifts. It was chaotic at times, but I didn't mind.

After our son was born, bright plastic toys, endless boxes of diapers, and bulky baby gear started claiming every free corner of our apartment. With the three of us packed into a single bedroom, finding space was a daily puzzle, but we made it work.

Surprisingly, living so close together didn't feel limited back then — it felt intimate, cozy, and deeply fulfilling. Then COVID-19 hit.

Spending so much time indoors made me feel isolated, and for the first time, I began dreaming about more living space. But we barely had time to figure things out before life took a drastic turn: When the war in Ukraine escalated in 2022, we made the heavy, life-changing decision to relocate to Canada.

A few months after moving, we began renting a two-bedroom house, where we currently reside. At 1,700 square feet, it wasn't considered especially large by local standards, but to us, it felt vast.

It didn't take long to adjust to having more space — and to quickly fill it up

At first, our house seemed almost too large for just three people.

For the first time, we had two bedrooms and a basement, which instantly doubled our usable space at a ground level.

After years of apartment living, though, the sheer thought of having so much space to keep clean felt exhausting. However, it didn't take long to change my mind.

It turns out that when both you and your belongings finally have room to breathe — and you've got a trusty robot vacuum doing the heavy lifting — life shines in completely different colors.

It's also been wonderful to have more room to host, from a dedicated guest space (in the basement) to a table big enough to actually seat larger groups.

In time, we began to pick up local habits and traditions, too. Many of our neighbors in Canada decorate for different holidays, so we started joining in.

And of course, seasonal decor needs a place to be stored when it's not in use — and since we now had a full basement, I didn't feel super limited with what I could buy.

A lot of neighbors also had an extra stand-alone freezer in their homes. It seemed ridiculous for our family of three to also get one … until my first Costco run.

I caved when I realized I needed a place for all those bulk-sized boxes of frozen food. In our bigger home, large grocery hauls began feeling normal.

Gradually, I felt a shift in my identity: I was no longer the strict minimalist I used to be.

In Kyiv, whenever my husband wanted a new kitchen gadget or a giant toy truck for our son, I was firm about saying no. We simply didn't have room for "extra." I took pride in keeping our home completely clutter-free.

But between the extra space and North American convenience, I'd completely changed my minimalist rules. Now, saying "yes" to big additions — like the bulky food dehydrator I'd been eyeing for drying fruits and vegetables, or the roomy couch we'd dreamed of for years — felt easy.

I didn't need to worry about where something would be stored or if it'd take up too much space: We finally had the room to bring those dreams home.

Ultimately, my family and I have thrived with more room to breathe

Over time, I realized this shift was much deeper than just being able to shop more and store more stuff. In a bigger space, our family had room to breathe and grow.

In Kyiv, our whole routine and my minimalist mindset felt shaped by how tight everything felt, but here, the extra room opened up a whole new chapter.

I've become more outgoing, more relaxed, and genuinely excited to gather people together. Our home has turned into a place for hosting friends, cooking weekend dinners, and laughing over backyard barbecues.

Living small was a beautiful, intimate part of my life that I will always hold close to my heart. It taught me intentionality and gratitude.

However, creating space to thrive, host, and watch my family grow has completely transformed my definition of home — now, going back to 500 square feet no longer feels like an option.