A Typical Day in an Atypical Life

March 22, 2026|Rick Juliusson

“What do you do all day?” I’m often asked. Other than “there’s still not enough time,” I’m never quite sure how to answer. We live here, so it’s not all tours and insta-photo moments. So here’s my journal from just this one random any ol’ day as a digital nomad in Hoi An, Vietnam.

6:15 - We open the curtains for a view of the Greater Coucal whose deep throaty calls have woken us up, but the view of the rice paddies is obscured by condensation on the patio window doors as thick and rivulet-dripping as dad’s hot shower mirror. We’re perched on the edge of a giant moisture-belching swamp monster - it’s already 27 degrees (81 Fahrenheit) and almost 90% humidity this early morning.

After a morning snuggle, we quickly cycle the 1km from our CoLiving apartment, across the rice paddies and past the local temple, to The Hub co-working space. Bikes are included in the co-living deal - as are the pool, shared kitchen and hang-out space, and dozen other travellers in their own rooms.

We’re not the first commuters on the narrow raised concrete path through the rice paddies. Electric scooters carry Vietnamese folk to their work, farm etc. No-one rides like they're in a hurry, just enjoying the morning commute with the rising sun while it still feels like a heavy warm friend.

As the first digital nomads at The Hub, we always have our pick of work stations - the glassed-in air-conditioned silent or semi-silent rooms, porch out back, picnic tables and hanging chairs, all looking out over that same vast rice paddy around which Hoi An town wraps like a hot crusty donut. We choose the sofa in the hang-out space - it will be loud and interactive later, but for now Sarah can have her cushy-bum time.

I work on our monthly finances, communicate with our Canadian renters, read over a business proposal for Sarah, finish whumping my son at online WordPlay, and strategize with a fellow Killick Ecovillage volunteer about how to respond to a neighbour who seems intent to find some evil conspiracy in our Newfoundland co-living dream. Basic Monday morning busy business.

The temple between home and office

Our overpriced ($1,100/month) "superior view" room overlooking the rice paddies

Bike ride through the rice paddies

Backpourch workspace at The Hub

Quiet morning in the lounge of The Hub coworking space

8:30 - We take another of the criss-crossing rice-paddy paths over to Tra Que Vegetable Village - a 400-year-old farming community renowned for its organic produce cultivated using traditional methods, (including local seaweed, like we used to do on our Wildside Farm). The vegetable gardens and fish ponds are spectacular, as is the “Slow Cafe" where we enjoy a non-Vietnamese egg/tomato shakshouka and a smoked mackerel bagel. Internet lives up to the cafe’s name, so I pull out my Vietnamese notebook for my daily language study.

Tra Que Vegetable Village

Looks dubious, but Google Maps says this is Slow Café

This café was sadly closed

It is Slow Café, our 2nd office of the morning

9:30 - While Sarah goes to her first sewing lesson, I cycle back across the paddies to the local Ba Le market. In blessedly broken Vietnamese I manage to purchase lotus seeds (high protein!), fish, mushrooms, mango, bananas, avocado, mushrooms and quail eggs. And a 40-cent bouquet of fresh flowers, sparing no expense for my hard-working wife.

11:00 - After stowing our food in our little sections of the shared fridge and cupboard, I help a Florida newcomer haul her 31 kg suitcase (that’s 68 pounds! And I’ve been feeling a bit excessive with my 10kg) up 3 flights of stairs, while she carries her smaller suitcase and two handbags. Then comes the first of probably several cold showers today to rinse off the first rounds of sticky humid sweat (too lazy to go back down the stairs to the pool), and settle into our cool-ish room (don’t need AC quite yet) for some more laptop time - blog writing, check What’s Ap messages, book a tomorrow morning trip to “My Son” ancient Hindu temple

1:00 - One marker of the generational divide between us and these 20- and 30-somethings digital nomads is food habits. These young whipper-snappers pick up their phones and order door-dash meals without a second thought - I have never in my life had a meal delivered (late-night drunk pizza doesn’t count.) So I find myself visiting with fellow residents from the Philippines and Canada, me cooking banana pancakes and them enjoying hot Pho noodles and sweet “salted coffee.”

Back upstairs I gently shoo Sarah to go work poolside while I have my daily nap, then dive back into some Killick Ecovillage projects (new promotional videos) while battling with a frustratingly dodgy internet connection.

3:00 - Cycle yet another rice paddy path over to HealthFit Gym where we’ve purchased a one-month membership. Some days I take a free Vietnamese yoga class or follow my online “Ladder” workout program with free weights and a yoga mat. Today I choose to mingle with the ultra-buff and mega-tattooed women and men on an array of machines, while off to one side people are sparring in the kickboxing ring or pummeling the punching/kicking bag. I had thought about taking kickboxing lessons (when in Asia…), but nothing about the Jean-Claude Van Damme ultra-aggression ends up resonating.

4:30 - We cycle back home for cold shower #2, then back over to the Hub for “family meeting.” Forty nomads from about 30 countries - all working online with a heavy dose of IT and AI. Some are on a 1-2 month trip, but the majority are full-on digital nomads, traveling from Hub to Hub in a circuit across the world, running into friends they last saw in Bulgaria or Chile or a global nomad convention. I may stand out as the only retired person, but our wandering wondering lifestyle is fully understood and embraced in this circle.

I would have thought this was a ripe environment to meet soulmates - instead of back home in bars and church basements where “normal” people don’t understand this lifestyle, they are immersed in fellow life voyagers. But Sarah and I are pretty much the only long-term couple here, and as usual we gather in lonely young people wondering if and how they’ll find their love match. It turns out these fellow nomads are also fiercely independent and attuned to short-term alliances - “situationships with a built-in expiration date” says one young man. There’s very real and meaningful community here, but also a sense of aloneness as people drift in and out of the scene.

6:00 - Sunset ride home, where we cook up the morning market’s fish, mushrooms, peppers, and fresh-cut rice noodles. Tonight is unusual - as I also start a batch of bread, some boisterous Italian brothers are cooking pasta. Usually our housemates just look incredulous, “Why would you cook when you can eat out so cheaply?” While we do it to experience the market, control our diet, and for the enjoyment of learning to create foods with local ingredients, I am also aware that we are missing out on some of the amazing local delicacies. I vow to have more bowls of $1 pho noodles with squid at the little joint on the corner, squatting on low plastic red stools with the students from the school across the street.

8:00 - Sarah’s done for the day, but I ride back into old town for the New Moon lantern floating, though it’s somewhat muted as folks are tired after Tet. I change money at a gold jewelry shop, and treat myself to a durian-coconut-blueberry ice cream sundae with oreo-goldfish-chocolate-egg toppings.)

9:30 - After 18km of riding, it’s time to lock the bike up for the night, then up to our 3rd floor for my 3rd shower. After a final email/message check, and the next-to-final episode of Bridgerton, we hit the sack for our early departure to My Son hindu temple sanctuary tomorrow (hoping to beat the crowds and the heat).

My route for the day. The big green patch is the rice paddy. Red flag is our Co-living space. You can also see Hidden Beach up to the right where we first stayed.

So was this a TYPICAL day? The fairly regular features of our lives are here: up early, lots of laptop time, workout, nap, market every third day, cooking, baking, lots of cycling/walking, one social event.

UNUSUAL was the amount of time we spent apart (sewing, nap, lanterns). Also going out at night (we are old, after all…) And overall the amount of social activity is much higher in this intense immersion environment than our normal Just The Two of Us life. More on that in another blog post…

So yes, it was a good, normal day. No excitement, some learning, a new discovery (vegetable farm), a new cafe. Still early enough in our Hoi An two months that I find a lot of “new” interesting things to take pictures of - that will diminish as my eyes become accustomed and dulled. Mostly just a day of Normal Living, including some bored/frustrated moments. Not every second is inspired or exotic or blog-worthy, but it adds up to a good life.

PS - Just for fun, here are photos from the next day’s trip to My Son, a UNESCO World Heritage site in central Vietnam featuring ancient Hindu temples built by the Champa kingdom between the 4th and 13th centuries (and later bombed by the US during the American War - more on that in a future blog post too…)