Are you stuck? Lacking confidence? Can’t move forward?

If so, you’re where I was a month ago.

My notes & posts on Substack were getting moderate results, I was struggling with whether my niche was too broad, and I desperately wanted to figure out a way to better reach my audience.

At the same time I noticed that I was increasingly reading authors who wrote more personal stories.

Not the generic, vanilla ‘how to’ stuff I’ve regularly consumed & written about for years. But those who chatted about their daily life, their world views, the observations they made.

It’s been a goal of mine for years to ‘find my voice’, but I’ve never been 100% sure what that meant. So that’s why I started the writing practice I told you about yesterday.

And I never expected 30 days of private writing in my notes app to be so revealing and clarifying, but that’s exactly what it has been.

Here’s why:

1. You can’t think your way to your voice. You have to write your way to it.

As I said yesterday I’ve wanted to start a daily writing practice for the best part of a decade.

But each time I tried, it died as quickly as it started. The reason was always the same. I never felt I had enough to say.

I would read Seth Godin and his quietly relentless daily blog and think, “He’s got a voice. I haven’t.” I couldn’t picture what mine would even sound like, so I never stuck around long enough to find out.

I also always felt desperately uncomfortable writing about me.

My default for 16 years has been strategy. ‘How to build an email list’, ‘how to run Facebook ads’, ‘how to launch a digital product’.

Strategy is safe, and useful, and doesn’t feel like turning the camera around on myself.

My mum (god rest her soul) always said, “Never hang your dirty washing out in public,” and I think our whole generation has that line wired in somewhere.

But what surprised me, when I finally sat down for these 30 days, was that writing ‘about me’ almost immediately stopped being ‘about me’.

The first few posts were a bit journal-y. Where we were, what we were doing, what I was working on.

But by day 10 the writing was already turning outward.

A bus journey became about our reliance on AI. The place we were in became a lesson about practicing in public. My surgery recovery became about reviving childhood dreams.

The writing about me became writing about the world through me, which is a very different thing.

The voice I was looking for didn’t arrive on day 1. It started surfacing around day 12.

By day 25 it sounded unmistakably mine. But all the thinking & strategising in the world wouldn’t have got me there.

I had to write my way to it.

If you’ve been trying to find your voice, stop trying. Start writing.

2. You don’t have to build in public.

This completely flies in the face of the whole Gary Vee, LinkedIn, X-bro ‘document-don’t-create’ culture that’s been circling the internet for the last few years.

And don’t get me wrong I’m a big believer in practicing in public. But you don’t have to start there.

If you absolutely do not yet have the confidence to put yourself out there, bloody don’t!

It’s not a rule. That you must share every stumble, every mis-fire, every lesson. It’s just a bunch of over confident blokes telling you what’s worked for them.

You do you!

You can practice in private first, just for you, with no audience or pressure, and sharpen your chops before you go live to the world.

(NB: One of my daily posts was about a Cartagenan violinist playing in a square who wasn’t very good but was bravely practising in public. But while he was improving his skills in the public arena, I can guarantee that he did not walk out there with a brand-new violin having never picked one up before in his life and thought right I’m gonna learn how to play the violin out here in the square in public and hope people throw me a few pennies for my efforts. He would have learned the basics in private first.)

That’s exactly what I did, and it’s what finally made daily writing stick after a decade of false starts.

If I’d been writing publicly from day one, I’d have spent every morning wondering what would resonate, what the hook should be, who might share it.

I’d have performed instead of explored, and the voice that surfaced in private would never have shown up at all.

You don’t have to build in public. You can build privately, get your shape right, and then open the door.

Some things grow better in the dark.

3. Action creates clarity. Thinking creates more thinking.

It may not always seem it on the surface but you are talking to one of the world’s most accomplished over-thinkers.

I haven’t always been this way, and I’m 100% certain that menopause has played a part, but I have spent a ridiculous amount of time overthinking my niche, my brand, my offers.

Long AI strategy sessions, pivots, coaching calls, beautifully formatted brand documents I’ve never looked at again.

But none of it gave me the clarity that the last 30 days of just writing has done.

In just one month, I’ve become crystal clear on the audience I want to attract, the kind of content I want to create, how to build my audience for This Big World (my ecom brand) and how I want to grow and monetise my Substack moving forward.

I’ve always advocated for the fact that action creates clarity and every single time I move and do, instead of thinking and strategising I prove my own point.

4. The future of online writing belongs to storytellers.

I’ve watched several creators I used to enjoy quietly switch to ‘unedited’ AI-generated content over the last year.

The slop is obvious. The rhythms are wrong, the opinions are flattened, and every post starts with “This isn’t about X, it’s about Y” or “Not because of this, because of that.”

And believe me, I’m an AI fan. I use it for everything. Strategising, outlining, even drafting.

But it can’t mimic my voice. Even with Claude cowork, a hundred writing examples uploaded, and a clear set of rules, it gets close but it isn’t me. And I think most readers can sniff AI out a mile off. I know I can.

As AI floods the internet, more & more people will gravitate towards writers who tell specific, personal, voice-led stories. Not just human writing, but storytelling.

ChatGPT can write ‘How to Start a WordPress Blog’ in three minutes flat. Brilliant. Use it for that.

What it can’t write is how discovering Jericoacoara in Brazil reminded me of the 1954 movie Brigadoon because of how magical it was. Or how rewatching the kids movie Hook while recovering from gallbladder surgery inspired thoughts about chasing our dreams & aging disgracefully. Or what referencing the old Walkman & listening to Kate Bush taught me about rest vs productivity.

These are stories specific to me, the moment and how I see things.

As I said at the start of this article I now read almost exclusively, writers who share personal stories along with their lessons & observations of the world, even if the writing isn’t pulitzer prize winning material. (Mine certainly isn’t).

I’m not saying don’t use AI to get over blank-page syndrome. Use it. I do. But make sure the voice, the stories, and the observations are unmistakably yours, as those are the parts nothing can replicate.

5. A piece of advice I’ve been giving for years has been holding me back.

I’ve believed strongly in knowing your ‘who’ for 16 years.

Know your avatar. Know your who. Write for one specific person. Name them, age them, give them a job, a postcode, a favourite breakfast.

I’ve given that advice on every coaching call I’ve ever run, and if you’re really struggling with narrowing your topics it’s still great advice.

But, over the last 30 days, every time I sat down to write, the avatar question would pop up at the back of my head.

• Would my ideal target audience care about this?

• Would they find it useful?

• Would it solve a problem for them?

And every time, the question slowed me down and pulled the post off-course from what I wanted to say.

So somewhere around day 15 I stopped asking. I just wrote what I genuinely wanted to write that morning.

And my posts got better. My observations sharper, my message keener.

I still have a rough feel for who my audience is, and if you happen to be like me, interested in freedom, funding it, ageing disgracefully, and living your best life in your 50s & beyond, then hopefully you’ll feel right at home here!

But some of my best business successes over the years have come with no specific avatar in mind. I’ve just created and my audience has found me.

If you’re stuck on this one, re-read point 3. Just start doing and clarity will follow!

6. Confidence comes from doing it.

When I started the 30 days, I was nervous about eventually going public.

I knew that was always the goal, but I wasn’t sure I ever would.

I’m not nervous now.

By doing the thing, day after day, my confidence grew naturally, until I was ready to start doing it publicly, which is exactly what I’m doing now.

I’ll lose some subscribers sure. Some won’t like the daily cadence. Some are only here for the freedom funding tactics, not the surrounding stories.

And that’s fine. Because I’m confident the audience I will attract will be more aligned with who I am and what I offer.

And the beautiful part is, my readers & community, rather than just appreciating my strategies on how to grow an online business, will really get to know me as a person.

As a nomad, as a crazy, insecure, people pleasing, fast acting, unfit, over thinking, capable, strong, fun loving woman, who hopefully inspires them to grab life, and live their best years yet with no regrets.

If confidence is the thing that’s holding you back, read lesson 2 again, and start doing the thing you’re unsure about just for yourself at first, and see where it takes you.

So that my friends is 30 days of private writing revealed.

I highly recommend it! 😂

This has been my longest dispatch in my 30 days of writing, so thanks for sticking around to the end. Most are much much shorter than this. There were just a lot of lessons to get through!

I hope it’s inspired you to start whatever it is you’ve been stuck on. Remember you’re in charge of how you do things. Just because some ‘gooroo’ says it’s good for them doesn’t mean it’s good for you.

You do you my friend. And do it in whatever manner means you’ll make it happen and move closer to your goals.

Thanks for being here.

The practice continues. I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you why I’m currently sleeping in a shipping container. (I kid you not!)

📍Costa Rica 🇨🇷

35 Days ago, I set myself a challenge.

Could I write every single day for 30 days just for me.

Nothing published, or perfectly laid out or edited for hours etc. Just a ‘daily dispatch’ about nomadic life on the road, aging disgracefully and funding freedom, the 3 main pillars for my brand.

The reason was because I’d started to not enjoy my Substack writing process.

• Coming up with what I thought were compelling articles & headlines twice a week.

• Figuring out the balance between travel & funding freedom

• Writing, editing, laying out, adding photos (most of my posts are 2000+ words - so this is a huge job).

• And most importantly struggling to maintain it consistently with travelling full time.

So on 13th April from the side of a pool in Colombia I wrote, privately, in my notes app;

“Day 1 - The Practice

I’ve wanted to start a daily writing practice for years. Probably 10, maybe even 15, but it always came with conditions.

• Where shall I publish?

• What message am I trying to deliver?

• Who am I trying to reach?

• What if I can’t think of anything to write?

Years ago I started Jo’s Blog with a Seth’s blog style layout, I think it lasted a month.

Then I added an infinite scroll section to my old blog The Working Traveller. I think it lasted a week. 🙄

Lately I’ve been down on myself for not being consistent or progressing as fast as people around me. But I’ve flip flopped around a bit the last few years and haven’t stuck with anything long enough for it to take root.

So, I’m committing myself to The 50+ Nomad for the long haul (min 10 years). Thankfully at the tender age of 53, I hopefully have a solid 10-20 years of nomadding in front of me, so why not.

I’m publishing ‘fairly’ regularly on Substack & FB etc, but at some stage I want my own home that can’t be taken away with new ownership or an algorithm change.

But before I even think about a website or anything that takes more resources, I’ve decided to start a daily writing practise, in private, in my notes, without the pressure of going public.

If I can write (me, not AI) daily for 30 days, and I enjoy it, plus it makes me think, notice, challenge my own assumptions, and inspires posts on other platforms, I’ll seriously think about starting my own site and begin again my goal of a daily writing practice.

The long term goal of course is to enlighten, inspire & effect change in others (isn’t that always the main goal of creators?) But for now all it has to do is satisfy is me.

No public pressure, no performing or editing. Just me. Here goes.”

Well, I have written unfailingly every single day since that day (even during my gallbladder stint) and it’s become the favourite part of my working day.

The first 10-14 posts were a bit ‘Jo’s Journal’ with lots of ‘here’s where we are’, ‘here’s what we did’ type content, but then the posts started maturing and the voice I’ve been seeking for so long began to find its lane.

In the last couple of weeks I’ve written (hopefully with humour) about life lessons learned from the gallbladder surgery, what a violinist in Cartagena taught me about practicing in public, how to make readers miss your work, and what the movie ‘Hook’ and nomadism have in common.

I’m having a lot of fun, but yesterday was Day 34 and it’s time to take the training wheels off.

It’s time for me to take that Cartagenan violinists lesson and start practicing in public. (I’ll share the story in a future post).

So moving forward my Substack is becoming a daily dispatch.

Not the long 2000+ worders I’ve been publishing every week or so, but shorter, succinct, stories, lessons & truths about nomadic life at 53 with dodgy knees, building a business on the road, and grabbing life by the b***s!

I hope they will entertain, inform, educate, and make you laugh where appropriate. But most importantly I hope they will inspire you to chase your own version of freedom and live your best life whatever that means to you. 🥳

Twice a month, on Fridays, I’ll send a longer paid post specifically delving into a Funding Freedom strategy. These will be practical, useful, strategic pieces on building location-independent income, with real time updates on my own business ventures.

Paid subscribers also get The Backpack - books, courses, new monthly resources, and a monthly group call.

If at anytime my British ramblings aren’t for you, the unsubscribe link is at the bottom, with no hard feelings at all.

If you’re interested or even mildly curious, pull up a chair. I’m so glad you’re here.

I’ll be back tomorrow. 😁

For years I’ve been parroting the line every self-help guru peddles: the only real barrier to success is mindset. Fix your head, the rest follows.

I’ve said it on webinars, in Substack notes and articles. I’ve said it in workshops. I’ve probably said it to you.

But I want to take some of it back.

Not all of it. Mindset matters.

It’s the reason I got on a plane sixteen years ago with my husband and a laptop and never really went home. It’s the reason I’m writing this from a café in Colombia instead of a desk in Sheffield.

But somewhere along the way the industry I work in turned a useful idea into a lazy one. I went along with it, and I think it needs a reframe.

Here’s what made me question it.

Last week I spent hours fighting with Facebook ads for my travel cards. Clicking things that wouldn’t click. Watching spinners spin. Re-reading the same help article four times and still not understanding what it wanted from me.

By the end I’d lost the morning and made zero progress, it was frustrating to say the least.

And I’m a pretty techy person. I’ve used Facebook for years. I started to think - if someone just getting started was going through this experience they’d immediately feel that this online business stuff is way too hard!

Now that could be seen as a mindset problem. Surely if you want it bad enough you’ll do whatever it takes to figure it out, right?

Except Facebook’s ads platform is genuinely, teeth-grindingly difficult, and most beginners don’t have a spare £5k hanging around to hand it to someone who speaks fluent Meta.

That’s not a mindset gap my friend. That’s a resource gap.

And labelling it as just mindset keeps you stuck blaming yourself that you can’t make it work.

A physical example of a similar issue.

I have knee arthritis. I can walk, I can exercise, I can do glute bridges on my hotel floor. But I could plaster every wall in this apartment with affirmations and it still won’t mean I can run an ultra marathon and walk the next day.

There’s a physical limit that no amount of positive thinking can override.

Mindset gets me to the starting line. It doesn’t run the race.

Which is when I started seeing it everywhere.

My new ecom brand launched in January. I missed the Christmas gifting window by a whisker, and now I’m staring down eleven months of grinding sales on a product that’s fundamentally giftable, until Q4 rolls back round.

Is that a mindset problem? Or is it a timing problem that will be solved by a calendar, not a mantra?

Five walls, not one.

Here’s a useful reframe.

When you hit a wall, stop asking “do I have the right mindset?” and start asking “what kind of wall is this?”

Because different walls need different tools, and treating all of them as mindset problems is why we end up exhausted and still stuck.

Mindset Walls

• Fear

• Avoidance

• Perfectionism

• Imposter Syndrome

• The story you tell yourself about what people like you can and can’t do

Mindset work genuinely shifts these.

Therapy helps (as does wine).

Reading Brené Brown at 3 in the morning is a solid option.

This is the wall the gurus focus on, and it’s the one where mindset work can genuinely make a difference.

Skill Walls

You don’t know how to do the thing.

My Facebook ads morning was this. No amount of positive thinking teaches you how to structure a campaign. You learn it, you hire it, or you abandon it.

Sticking notes on a mirror that read ‘I do understand FB Ads’ is not the answer.

Resource Walls

Time, money, energy, health, a working laptop.

Someone with an identical mindset to yours but a spare $10k for a PPC agency will get a different result.

That’s not weakness of will. That’s arithmetic.

Timing Walls

• My cards missing Q4.

• A product launched into a recession.

• A pitch made the week your industry imploded.

The fix is patience or pivoting, not pushing harder into a headwind.

Luck Walls

• The algorithm changed.

• The journalist didn’t reply.

• The investor had a bad morning.

You can’t mindset your way to luck. You can only keep taking shots so you’re in the room when it shows up.

Where the ‘Self Help’ Industry Has It Wrong

The self-help framing neatly collapses all five walls into the mindset one.

If you succeed, growth mindset. If you fail, fixed mindset.

It’s a closed loop that can’t be wrong, and it’s designed that way, because a framework that can’t be falsified is a framework that can sell forever.

If you’re the person I most often picture reading this — 50+, accomplished, brilliant at your old career, still trying to crack a location-independent income after a couple of false starts — this is so important because you’ve probably been blaming your mindset for things that aren’t your mindset’s fault.

• The course that didn’t convert? Might be a skill wall around sales pages.

• The consulting idea that stalled? Might be a timing wall because your network hasn’t caught up with your pivot yet.

• The podcast you keep not launching? Might be a resource wall because you’ve got three care responsibilities and four hours of spare time a week.

None of these are fixed by waking at 5am and journaling your intentions. They’re fixed by naming the right wall and choosing the tool that matches it.

So Mindset Doesn’t Matter?

Not even close. Mindset is the thing that underpins all of this.

• You need it to sit down and learn the skill you’re missing.

• You need it to look at the resource gap and get creative instead of defeated.

• You need it to wait out the timing wall without quietly giving up.

• You need it to keep showing up on the days when luck has clearly left the building.

Mindset is what stops you walking away from the wall entirely and keeps you standing there long enough to figure out which tool you actually need.

But that’s different from what the self-help industry sells.

They sell mindset as the destination. Fix your thinking and the rest just sort of... unfolds.

Write your goals on a mirror. Visualise the bank balance. Repeat affirmations in the shower until you believe them.

And it works brilliantly, for the people selling the course.

Because when it doesn’t work for you, the diagnosis is always the same: you didn’t believe hard enough. You didn’t commit. You let limiting beliefs win. Which conveniently means you need another course, another programme, another £297 masterclass on rewiring your subconscious.

It’s genius, really. A system that explains away its own failures will never run out of customers.

Meanwhile, the person who’s been journaling their intentions for six months and still can’t grow their Substack starts thinking there’s something fundamentally wrong with them.

There isn’t.

They might need to learn how headlines work, or how the algorithm decides what to recommend, or why their welcome email reads like a terms and conditions page. Those are learnable things, not character flaws.

If you’re reading this, you’ve already got grit. You’ve raised families, built careers, navigated redundancies, bereavements, the lot. You didn’t get to 50-something by lacking resilience.

The idea that you need to unlock some deeper level of mental toughness before you can build a side income is, frankly, insulting (and probably keeping you stuck).

But what you might need is a different skill. Or more time. Or a better strategy. Or to wait for the right window. Or to try seven things so that one of them catches.

So next time you’re stuck, try the diagnostic instead of the affirmation. Ask yourself: what kind of wall is this? Mindset, skill, resource, timing, or luck? Be honest about it. Then spend your energy on the fix that matches.

The self-help industry has been selling one tool for every job. I’ve done it too. But you wouldn’t use a hammer to change a tyre, and you shouldn’t use a mantra to solve a skills gap.

Mindset keeps you in the game. But it was never meant to be the whole game.

If this resonated, forward this to the friend you keep telling to “just believe in herself.” They probably need a map, not a mantra.

‘Just look at me babe’ my husband said gently. ‘Calm, slow breaths’.

I was having a mini panic attack. Which was strange timing as I’d made it to the top of the very steep hill. You’d have thought I’d have had it midway, or looking up at the feat ahead?

But no. I achieved the goal and then panicked about it. 😂 Kind of my M.O. all over.

I was hiking the Pati Valley in Chapada Diamantina, a huge National Park in Bahia, Brazil. And when I say huge, I mean, bigger than Hong Kong huge, except instead of skyscrapers and crowds, it’s waterfalls, valleys and miles of nothing but nature.

Originally, hubby was going to do it alone. Three days, 35km, waterfalls, canyon views, homestays under the stars. “Moderate” difficulty, according to AllTrails. But I got FOMO, and despite my arthritic knees, decided optimistically that I could totally do it.

(Spoiler: “moderate” was doing some very heavy lifting in that sentence.)

The Bone Shaker

The adventure started with a 2-hour jeep ride that my Mum (rest her soul) would’ve called a bone shaker. I’d had a terrible night’s sleep and was hoping to nap on the way, but you don’t nap in a vehicle that’s trying to rearrange your internal organs.

So instead I sat there being thrown around, watching the dirt roads blur past, thinking, on Saturday I’ll be coming back this way with three days of memories. And that’s what life really is, isn’t it? Just a series of memories. Everyone gets the same 24 hours. It’s what you do with them that counts.

Deep thoughts for someone clinging to a grab handle for dear life.

We’d set off from Lençóis, a gorgeous little cobblestone town that felt like someone picked up a quiet corner of Portugal and dropped it in the middle of the Brazilian wilderness.

Pedestrianised streets, colourful buildings, a beautiful stream which turned into a raging river on the day we left, and a restaurant that served the most gorgeous filet mignon (my face Brazilian dish!)

Our guide was Dodo, and the company we booked with was called Chapada Backpackers that had their office in the local hostel. I guess that should have given me the clue that we’d be the oldest hikers in town!

Day 1: Reality Check

So. Day one.

10 kilometres, they said.

“Moderate,” they said.

It started with a 400-metre steep incline that caused the panic attack. Then a fairly flat stretch where I briefly thought, oh this is lovely, I can do this. Then a very long, very steep decline that absolutely destroyed me (I have patella femoral arthritis which means going down is much harder on the knees than going up.)

I tried to take a pic at the bottom to show how steep it was, but I couldn’t quite get the angle. My husband assured me however, it was very steep! (Bless him).

We’d started to lag behind by this point, but still had a few more ups, downs and some scrambling to do before we reached our accommodation for the night.

The group we were hiking with, a brilliant bunch of 20 somethings from all over the world, were done probably a solid hour before Rhett and I staggered in. They’d already showered, relaxed, and were well into their first beers by the time I appeared, looking like I’d been dragged through a canyon backwards.

Which, to be fair, I sort of had.

That night, Dodo called the company. He was concerned about me doing Castle Mountain the next day, and to be honest, he was right to be.

The company’s suggestion was to leave me at the homestay while the group climbed, but Dodo insisted on taking me to the waterfall instead so I wouldn’t miss out.

Apparently that was the ‘easier’ option.

Day 2: My Wobble

The next morning as the group Rhett included, set off on the Castle Mountain hike, I had a big wobble.

Why had I decided I could do this? Was I letting everyone down? Why was I someone who views the gym as a great idea in theory, but best appreciated from a sun lounger?

But then I sat with it for a minute. Who was I really affecting? The group were fine, off having a brilliant time. Rhett was with them. The only person dealing with the inconvenience was Dodo, and, he seemed pretty relaxed.

The person I was really upset with was myself. I thought I was stronger than I am. I thought my body could do what my brain had already decided it could. And it couldn’t. Not yet.

So I carried that uncomfortable truth with me through that canyon: if I want to keep doing things like this with Rhett, I need to get stronger and fitter. No more winging it on enthusiasm alone.

The Waterfall Comeback

As it turned out, the waterfall day was brilliant.

Although it was the ‘easier’ choice, clambering over rocks, crossing the river several times, and experiencing the famous “escalaminhada” (literally, “hike-climbing”), was challenging to say the least!

But by the time we got to the Funis Waterfall where we swam, ate popcorn, and Dodo told me all about his tumultous love life, the day was panning out to be spectacular!

The group joined us after their mammoth mountain hike and Rhett reassured me that I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Apparently two of the young girls had panic attacks midway (a more sensible moment for a panic attack), and a girl from another group had dropped her phone at the top which one of the guides had risked life & limb to climb into a crevice to retrieve it!

Made my little wobble seem inconsequential!

That night, feeling energised and proud of my rock climbing day, was one of the most magical parts of the whole trip.

We stayed in the most beautiful little homestay tucked into the mountains with glorious views. Rhett and I had our own little honeymoon suite, complete with pink love hearts on the wall and a window that opened straight onto the valley.

We slept with the window open, fell asleep looking at the stars, and I woke to the sun rising right in front of me. If I could bottle a single moment from this trip, it would be that one.

Day 3: Redemption

The final day, the company had sent us our own guide, Kyon, and one of the young German doctors (the lovely Ariana), joined us too. She’d found the Castle Mountain climb super hard the day before, so I was quietly relieved I wasn’t the only one who’d struggled.

We took the “mules route” to Cachoeirão, Brazil’s ninth-highest free-falling waterfall. A longer route, about 10km each way, but without the insane steep sections the others were tackling at speed.

And it was the best day of the entire trip. Beautiful views the whole way, and a pace that let us take it in. No pressure, or panic, just walking (and singing - why not?).

The waterfall, and the valley that housed it, was absolutely stunning. Streams of water pouring 270 metres off sheer cliffs into the canyons below, and a variety of shades of green that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Rhett wouldn’t let me sit on the hanging rock (I don’t always do what he says, but on this occasion I respected his decision. The 300-metre drop beneath it probably helped 😳).

So we convinced a couple of the girls to hold one of our travel challenge cards and pose on it instead! (They’re young and fearless!)

Dodo was proud of how fast we’d made it to the rock, and I must admit I’d been a bit Speedy Gonzales throughout the day if I do say so myself. A lunch stop with a dip in extremely cold water, followed by another 10km back, to the Black River, and we were almost done.

Side note - it’s called the Black River, not because it’s actually black, but because the tannins from the surrounding vegetation stain the water a deep, tea-like colour. All the rivers here have a warm caramel hue, that makes them look dirty, but the water is actually clean enough to drink! (And we did!)

I’d almost forgotten about the ridiculously steep incline from the first day, and just as I could see the car park and building where we’d stop for a cold beer before returning to Lencois, there it was. The sheer drop and narrow, rocky pathways I needed to descend to finish the hike.

It probably took me the best part of an hour to get down, with a lightning storm rolling in behind us. There’s nothing quite like the pressure of “get down this mountain before the sky explodes” to motivate a woman with dodgy knees. My joints were furious, but I made it.

And as we turned into the car park, our whole group, Matt from Manchester, the French Marions, the German doctors, Julie the yoga teacher, Claudi who speaks enough languages to communicate with 80% of the planet, and Edward the Ukrainian international man of mystery (who hated photos but was an absolute gentleman), all gave us a cheer and a round of applause. 😁

They’d been calling us “The Parents” all trip, and I told them on that last morning that I’d been listening to how clever, bright and positive they all were, and that if they were the future of our world, it’s a bright one.

40km and a Few Lessons

So I did it. 35-40km over three days. Lots of ups and downs, some scrambling, some tears, a mild panic attack, a waterfall therapy session, new friends, and a sunrise I’ll never forget.

Was it “moderate”? Not to me!

Was I ready for it? Absolutely not.

But I did it. And I’ll be better prepared next time. Because there will be a next time.

Your body doesn’t care how adventurous your spirit is. It only cares whether you’ve put the work in. I hadn’t. But now I know I must.

Because this life, this freedom, and these experiences are worth being strong enough to say yes to.

Tips for Hiking When You’re Over 50 with Dodgy Knees

1. Don’t.

2. But if you must, “moderate” on AllTrails means “you will question every life decision you’ve ever made.”

3. Invest in proper hiking boots. My trainers are still drying somewhere in Bahia.

4. Walking poles. I didn’t bring them. I borrowed some and they are a knee saver. Bring them.

5. Train before you go. And no, walking to the fridge doesn’t count.

6. Accept that the twenty-somethings will finish an hour before you. They’ll also cheer when you arrive, which makes it worth it. 🥳

7. Cry if you need to. Panic at the top if you need to. Then keep going.

8. Sleep with the window open. Let the stars remind you why you did it.

9. Always remember how young it makes you feel to move with confidence, strength and flexibility - use that as your motivation (note to self)

10. Do it anyway. Dodgy knees and all. You’ll hate parts of it, love most of it, and bore everyone at dinner with the story for years. 😁

If this got you thinking about your own adventure (dodgy knees or otherwise), I put together a course called “How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s and Beyond”. It's for the person who's been dreaming about it for years, has 47 tabs open on "best places to live abroad," and still isn't sure how to make it happen. It's the course I wish existed when we left the UK with a four-year-old and more optimism than sense.

Grab it Here for $197

Or if you’d rather just have everything (including “How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s and Beyond”), paid subscribers get The Backpack, (my growing library of guides, courses, and tools to help you build your freedom - over $500 of value), members-only Funding Freedom articles, monthly live calls, and anything new I add. All for a free trial and less than a questionable airport sandwich.

Get Free 7 Day Trial

If I’m honest about how I work, it goes something like this.

I have a great idea. I get wildly excited. I do all the hard, boring, unglamorous work to make it real. I push it live into the world. And then I sit on the edge of a hotel bed somewhere between Salvador and Bogotá and quietly lose the plot.

Ready. Fire. Panic.

That’s my modus operandi.

Forget Ready, Fire, Aim, or even Ready, Aim, Fire. Aim for me is a fear induced tearful meltdown

The good news is I usually fail forward, or sometimes succeed sideways, but every single time the panic arrives on schedule like a bad houseguest.

My Most Recent Meltdown

Last year I came across a brand selling beautiful bucket-list maps & towels. Really gorgeous things, covered in adventures and places you’re meant to tick off as you go. I thought they were excellent.

Around the same time I’d bought my husband some scratch off ‘date night’ cards for his birthday, which I also thought were a super creative and fun idea.

I’d been looking for a great product idea to start a travel based e-commerce brand and my brain linked the two products together to come up with scratch off style bucket list travel cards.

What really struck me was the scaleability of the product. I started to envision, couples sets, hiking sets, scuba diving sets, destination specific sets, solo adventurer sets. A whole family of products stretching out in front of me like a buffet.

I was excited!

Without too much strategising, planning or research to ensure there was a market for this product, I decided they were a great idea and I should forge ahead! (Seriously as I’m writing this, I’m sighing at myself).

I decided to start with a general travel challenge set. A simple, deck of scratch-off cards to spice up anyone’s travels. I spent a month negotiating with suppliers and another 2 months slogged through artwork rounds, packaging, listings, Amazon setup, the lot.

I was hoping for a Black Friday launch date, then a Christmas launch date, but I missed both (more on that later).

But then, just like that the cards arrived in the warehouses and went live on Amazon. As in, buyable by actual humans with actual credit cards.

And that’s when it hit.

I’d been ready, I’d fired, and here was the panic, washing over me like a tsunami!

“I can’t do this” I cried to my husband sitting in the lounge of the house we were sitting in London.

• “Nobody’s going to want these”

• “What on earth made me think this was a good idea”

• “I’m a terrible entrepreneur”

• “I’m going to fail publicly”

As ever hubby was gentle and sympathetic;

“Well, you’ve got 4000 of them sitting in a warehouse so you better bloody sell them”.

Ok then….

Not My First Rodeo…

Unfortunately this wasn’t my first rodeo with my crisis of confidence. I’d done something similar a couple of years earlier with a set of planners.

Great idea. Big vision. All the work. Launched them. Overcome by fear.

Without really admitting to myself what I was doing, I didn’t promote them. Barely posted about them. I just left them sitting quietly on the listing like a dinner party nobody RSVP’d to.

We sold a few, and got some great reviews, but unfortunately products don’t sell themselves, even the brilliant ones. They need someone banging a drum for them, and I’d decided the drum was too loud and too scary.

So this time I made myself a deal.

This time, I said to myself. You are going to feel all the fear and you’re going to promote the thing anyway Jo. You are going to keep showing up for it even when your hands are shaking. You are not allowed to abandon this one because of your fragile ego! 😳

Where I Am Right Now

As of writing, I’ve done just over 260 sales. My profit margin is sitting around 27%, which for an Amazon ecommerce product is pretty impressive.

PPC is ticking along and the reviews are slowly coming in, almost all of them glowing! (Only one meanie 😂)

(I mentioned above I missed Black Friday and Christmas. That was because I chose the slowest supplier as they had the best quality cards. Short term it cost me Q4 2025, long term, many of the reviews mention the great quality of the cards so next Q4 I should do very well!)

But it’s been a slow start due to launching a giftable travel product at the end of December which is akin to opening an ice cream van in February. But I’m in the game!

And with every sale my fear has faded, my confidence has grown and I’ve become very excited and proud to promote my product.

Now the Real Work Begins

And so it’s time for the real work to begin.

• I’m about to turn my social media up to eleven.

• I’m running Facebook ads to a landing page.

• I’ve made my own video ads, which I am absolutely not confident about, but I’m running them anyway because the alternative is doing nothing.

• I’m leaning into influencer marketing.

• I might do some lives, god help me.

• I’m planning on leveraging my 50+ Nomad brand to pull eyes onto the cards,

• And I’m framing the whole thing around the giftable angle, because the market has told me very clearly that’s the strongest hook.

And if my pattern holds, I’ll cry again at least once. Probably when I hit publish on the first round of video ads. That’s fine. I’ve factored it in.

The BIG Takeaways For You!

I wanted to write down the lessons from this, because I had a coaching call recently and a lot of the group were stuck in exactly the same place I’ve been stuck a hundred times.

Not strategy, or content or even a product.

Stuck on mindset. Stuck on the fear.

So here’s what my MO (Ready, fire, panic) has taught me.

1. Fear is the default setting when you launch anything.

It’s not a sign that your idea is bad, or that you’re in the wrong room. It’s just what it feels like to do something that matters to you in public.

It’s like you’re suddenly exposing yourself and everyone can see you naked (metaphorically!)

If you wait for the fear to go away before you promote something, you’ll never promote anything, ever.

2. The worst thing you can do post-launch is let the product sit.

I did it with the planners. I’ve done it with videos courses I’ve spent weeks creating and never promoted. I’ve done it with books on Amazon. I nearly did it again with the cards.

You’ve done the hardest part. You’ve got the thing out into the world. Letting it quietly die of neglect because you’re scared is the most expensive mistake in the whole sequence.

3. Impostor syndrome only breaks with evidence.

And evidence only comes from doing. You can’t think your way out of feeling like a fraud.

You can only act your way out, one small piece of evidence at a time.

A like, a follow, a comment, a sale, a review, a repeat buyer.

With every engagement no matter how small, your confidence builds.

4. Momentum matters more than strategy.

For the first few weeks I was refreshing the listing like a maniac, and nothing was happening. Then a sale. Then another. Then a review. And once you’ve got a few sparks, everything becomes a tiny bit easier.

You post the next thing with slightly less dread. You run the next ad. You record the next video.

Momentum is the thing that pulls you forward once you’ve shoved yourself off the starting line.

5. You don’t always know what problem your product solves until people tell you.

When I launched the cards, one of my running worries was that they didn’t really solve a problem. Travel is already fun. Why do you need cards to make it more fun? What was I actually selling?

Turns out the problem the cards solve is one I hadn’t thought too hard about.

The problem is: what on earth do you buy the travel lover in your life?

Because we all know someone who lives for their next trip. Someone impossible to buy for because they don’t want more stuff, they want experiences. And my cards are the rare, genuinely unique gift that fits that person perfectly.

The reviews told me this before I figured it out. People aren’t buying them for themselves. They’re buying them for friends, partners, kids heading off travelling, parents with a cruise booked.

I didn’t design that positioning. I discovered it by shipping the thing and listening.

6. Please, for the love of god, do some market research before you launch a product.

Everything is sellable at the end of the day. My cards will sell, couples cards will probably sell better, family adventurer cards probably even better.

But my cards are a tougher sell because I didn’t research and see where the demand was - what people are already actively searching for, looking for, asking questions about and buying.

Make it easier on yourself and no matter what you’re selling, physical, digital, coaching, services - research your market. What are they searching for, clicking on, buying, asking questions about. There’s your product right there.

Nobody is Watching You!

I mean this with love, but I also mean it quite literally.

Every day, people upload around 720,000 hours of video to YouTube. That’s about 82 years of video added to the platform every single day.

Approximately 23 to 34 million videos are uploaded to TikTok every day - that equates to roughly 16,000 videos uploaded every minute! 😳 Then add Instagram, Facebook, X, Threads, Substack….

The internet is a bottomless churn of people making stuff, and the vast majority of it is never seen by more than a handful of people.

That sounds depressing until you flip it. It means nobody is sitting there waiting to mock your launch.

• Nobody is compiling a dossier of your awkward first video ad.

• Nobody is reading your first article, laughing at your terrible IG reel or judging your bad hair day.

• Nobody cares enough to care, because they’re all too busy making their own stuff and panicking about their own launches.

You’re not being judged. You’re being ignored. And ignored is the starting line, not the finish line.

Once you understand that you’re a grain of sand on the beach of online content, your fear should dissipate.

Put the blinkers on. Close your eyes. Leap.

You Don’t Need a Mel Robbins Audience

I have no intention of trying to become Mel Robbins. I’m fifty-something, I’ve done my hustle years, and I have precisely zero desire (time, money, attention, brass balls) to build a stadium-sized personal brand.

That’s not my game.

My game is this.

I want my corner of the internet. My little 50+ Nomad patch. My books on Kindle. My products on Shopify. My ecommerce brand on Amazon. A handful of platforms that together fund the freedom to live the way I want.

99.999% of the internet will never know who I am.

Thank goodness right?

But the 0.001% who do, will subscribe, buy, come back, tell their friend at a dinner party in Leamington Spa, and be a part of my world.

That 0.001% is more than enough to build a 7-figure business, even an 8-figure one, and to fund every trip, project, book, and quiet act of philanthropy I want for the rest of my life.

The world is that big now.

You can build something extraordinary while being invisible to almost everyone on Earth.

The Only Way Through is Through

If you’re reading this and you’ve got something sitting on a shelf that you made and haven’t promoted, or an idea you keep editing in your head instead of launching, or a product you’ve soft-launched and quietly abandoned because the fear got too loud, I see you. I am you. I’ve been you multiple times.

There is no clever shortcut. There is no neat reframe that takes the fear away. The only way out is to pick the smallest possible next thing, do it, and then pick the next smallest thing.

Write the post. Record the video. Press publish. Run the ad. Send the email.

Cry if you need to. I certainly will. Then do it anyway.

Take Massive Action

1. Go and buy a pack of travel challenge cards. Seriously! Either for yourself or as a gift for a friend or loved one. They’re awesome, you’re supporting a fellow freedompreneur and you’ll love them! Here’s a 20% off discount code you can use at checkout - BIGWORLD20 - Thanks in advance 😁🙏

   Grab a pack with 20% OFF here

2. Before you close this article do something you’ve been putting off. Post that article, send that email, write a note promoting your latest product, launch the thing! Whatever it is take massive action today!

Comment below and let me know what you’ve done, feel free to link to anything you’re working on, I’d love to hear from you! And if you buy a set of cards do let me know, I might have something extra special to send you… 😁

I hope this article has helped. The biggest challenge we have is our minds. Not our talent, experience, ideas or knowledge. Just our crazy brains always getting in the way.

If you’re reading this, you’re so worth the 0.001% of the world’s attention, so make it happen my friend. 😍 I look forward to chatting in the comments.

Jo 😊

About Jo

Hey there! I’m Jo Barnes, a 53-year-old British digital nomad who’s spent 16 years building online businesses across 45+ countries.

I write about funding your freedom, nomadic life after 50, and ageing disgracefully.

Occasionally I also write about Wi-Fi disasters and questionable food choices, but that’s less intentional.

• Browse The Backpack for guides, courses, templates, and tools to help you fund your freedom.

• Find me on Facebook or Instagram if you want to see what I’m up to between posts.

If this resonated, a like, comment, or share helps more people find this newsletter. And I genuinely appreciate it.

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8 weeks in Brazil. 7 cities. Thousands of kilometres by bus, plane, boat, van, four-by-four, VW combi, and one very rickety jeep.

And in all of that time, across all of those places, I could not find a single decent cup of black tea.

And if you’d told me two months ago that would be my biggest concern I wouldn’t have believed you!

Moving Out of My Comfort Zone

I arrived in Brazil to start my nomadic journey with a fair amount of apprehension.

After 14 years living in Thailand, one of the safest countries on the planet, my comfort zones were very, very comfortable. And everything I’d read about South America was designed to keep me that way.

Armed robberies. Stabbings. Being driven to ATMs. Phone snatching. Every post, message or text from family/friends was ‘be careful, they’re a bit crazy over there’.

But of course I came anyway. And as I write this from Manaus, 8 weeks later, about to fly to Colombia in the morning, I’m wondering how a country I was so scared of ended up surprising me at every single turn.

The Carnaval, the Inspirational Tea, and the Beatles

Rio Carnaval had been on my bucket list for years. My sister & I had discussed it way back when, and were excited to experience it together.

Due to our collective apprehension we’d booked a tour, (which I highly recommend if you’re ever nervous about going somewhere), and it didn’t disappoint.

Within 48 hours of arriving we were fully immersed!

From city tours to the Favelas to the iconic Christ & Sugarloaf mountain, it included everything we wanted to experience.

We were even staying in Lapa, one of the grittier parts of Rio, so we felt the full weight of the Carnaval. But still it was surprisingly welcoming.

We went to the Sambadrome which was insane. We found ourselves at a Beatles bloco party at 10am one morning, and as the only two Brits in the group, the fact we knew all the words to every song was thrilling! I also got sloshed on a strawberry squiffy drink that tasted like heaven but hit like a bus.

But here was our first instance with the surprisingly rare Brazilian ‘Cha Preto’ (Black tea).

One morning at breakfast I’d miraculously found a black teabag, but my sister could not. So we pointed at the label on my tea bag and asked the waiter for another one with the same label (presuming it said black tea of course).

We watched him carefully sorting through every single teabag, reading each one and bringing us one that was similar but not the same. We thanked him for his efforts and on further investigation discovered that the labels don’t describe the tea.

They have inspirational messages on them, such as, “Believe in Yourself,” “It Only Depends on You,” and “Believe, it will work out”. The poor guy was earnestly looking for one that said “Believe in Yourself.” We just wanted breakfast tea. ☕🙄😂

But Rio was my first big surprise. Expecting danger on every corner, what I discovered was warmth, openness and an amazing city. Not without its problems of course, the gap between the haves and have nots is stark (and heartbreaking) here, hence the dangerous undercurrent.

But as with all cities in this beautiful country as long as you stay aware, keep your belongings safe and walk with confidence, trouble is less likely to find you.

Beautiful, Brutal, and Built on History

After my sister went home and my husband arrived, our next stop was Salvador which was supposed to be even more dangerous.

ChatGPT said so. Our guide in Rio said so. Everyone had an opinion, and by the time my husband & I arrived, I had a familiar knot in my stomach.

Our first activity was a walking tour of the historic centre and what a surprise that was! I’d never heard of Pelourinho before, despite it being the site of the music video for Michael Jackson’s “They Don’t Really Care About Us’.

Add to that it’s a UNESCO world heritage site and considered the birthplace of Brazil, it was gorgeous!

Colourful colonial buildings, cobbled streets, live music pouring out of every doorway, and a woman’s band marching through the streets. I was mesmerised.

Sadly it’s built on top of a really brutal history. The Mercado Modelo is a lovely market near the harbour, but underneath is where they once held enslaved people in terrible conditions. It’s now a gallery, and it was sobering and beautifully done.

We stayed near Farol da Barra by the lighthouse, where there’s a lovely coastal promenade. We sat in the shallows eating cheese sticks, watching the sun set, and I remember thinking, this is what I traded “safe” for.

Knees, Panic Attacks, and Being the Oldest Person on the Mountain

Our next adventure was my husbands idea. 🙄

A three day hike in Chapada Diamantina, because apparently I’ve forgotten I’ve got dodgy knees.

34 kilometres through Pati Valley. Lots of mountains, lots of ups and downs, lots of twenty-somethings breezing past me like it was a gentle stroll. Where are all the oldies? I kept thinking. Am I the only person over 50 who does this stuff?

Day 1 was 10 kilometres and hard. I had a panic attack at the top of a very steep mountain, which is a bit bizarre as you’d think the panic would come on the way up, but no. My brain waited until the summit.

Coming back down with my knees took approximately forever while the young ones bounced ahead like mountain goats.

Day 3 was 20 kilometres and I loved every second. And the Cachoeirão waterfall we hiked to was an enormous, breathtaking valley of all different shades of green and yellow, that made me forget my knees, the heat, and the fact I’d been walking for three days.

I felt very proud of myself afterwards. It was a long way. It was very hard. And I’d do it again tomorrow. 💪 (Well, maybe not tomorrow 😂)

Filet Mignon, a Dog Attack, and the Malaria Situation

After two lots of 8 hour bus rides to get to and from the Chapada National Park, we headed to Fortaleza to bed down and do some work, because the work-life balance on this trip has been, shall we say, flexible.

I keep meaning to be disciplined, but I keep choosing sunset filet mignon instead. (Which Brazilians do SO well, by the way. It’s become a bit of an obsession.)

Like every city so far Fortaleza surprised me. I was expecting a concrete jungle but instead found 30 odd kilometres of coastline and a lively, vibrant promenade with markets, restaurants, live music and all sorts going on!

But we did have a bit of drama! My husband went for a run, got stuck in a lightening storm and got attacked by a dog.

He called me clearly a bit shaken up and convinced he’d need a rabies shot. But when he got back the wound turned out to be a scratch that looked like a paper cut. I took a picture and my daughter laughed. (She shares my sympathetic gene). He was fine. 🐕

Meanwhile, my stomach had been at war with me for a couple of weeks. I thought it was the food, but it turned out it was the malaria tablets.

Which was totally ironic, because I was taking them specifically so I wouldn’t get sick in the Amazon, but I then got so sick from the tablets in the Amazon that I could barely eat, barely hike, and spent most of the jungle looking for a bathroom that didn’t exist.

I’ve stopped taking them. I’ll take my chances with the mosquitoes. 💊

The Place I’ll Never Stop Talking About

Another ridiculously long bus ride, plus a four-by-four over sand dunes took us to my version of Brigadoon.

Jericoacoara.

I fell completely in love.

If you’ve seen the film Brigadoon, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, imagine stumbling through a forest and finding a hidden town that shouldn’t really exist.

The entire place is sand. The streets, the shop floors, everything. And there are donkeys just wandering around. Gorgeous, smelly little donkeys. 🫏

We had sunset filet mignon (obviously), did a buggy tour over the dunes, and spent three days working from sandy-floored cafes feeling like we’d found somewhere truly special.

If I ever disappear, look for me here.

The Moments That Made Me Go Quiet

Next was Lençóis Maranhenses.

Getting there was grim, four van changes, three drivers, ten hours, and another malaria tablet reaction en route. (Just get the bus. Trust me.)

But the national park…..

150,000 acres of sand dunes, freshwater lagoons, and vegetation. Roughly the size of São Paulo.

I’m not a religious person. I’m not even particularly whimsical. But standing on those dunes, looking out at something so vast and so beautiful, I fell completely silent.

I felt it again in the Amazon a few weeks later, floating down the river at dusk watching pink dolphins surface while howler monkeys called from the trees.

The world right now is in turmoil. Wars nobody asked for, economies wobbling, people frightened and angry. And then you stand somewhere like this and you realise how magnificently indifferent nature is to all of it.

The dunes don’t care about gas prices. The dolphins don’t watch the news. And for a few minutes you remember that the world is still staggeringly, overwhelmingly beautiful, and that maybe we should stop screwing it up.

(Excuse my brief rant! 😉)

The Amazon, the Broken Toilet, and a City With No Roads

Another van took us from Barreirinhas to Sao Luis, then came our real ‘race across the world moment’.

A 16 hour overnight bus from São Luís to Belém.

Comfy seats, spacious, great bus. One small problem: the toilet was broken. Sixteen hours, no working loo, and a smell I will not describe further. At least the malaria tablets had calmed down by then. Small mercies.

Belém gave us one night and one of our best meals in Brazil. Buffalo steak. Didn’t see that coming.

Then on to Manaus, a city of two million people with no proper road links to the rest of Brazil. You fly in or you boat in.

Plus it has a fascinating, dark history.

During the rubber boom of the late 1800s, the rubber barons built a grand opera house with European marble and crystal, turned Manaus into the “Paris of the Tropics,” and did it all on the backs of enslaved Indigenous people.

The wealth was obscene. The cruelty behind it was worse. Another beautiful place built on brutal foundations. 😢

And from Manaus, four days in the Amazon jungle. I caught a piranha, nearly stepped on a pit viper, watched alligators being gently caught and released by a guide called Kenny G (no, not that one), and discovered that my spirit animal is a sloth. 🦥

What 8 Weeks in Brazil Taught a Nervous Brit From Thailand

Every single city surprised me. Every place was different from the last. And in almost every town, there was an area that felt safe, family-friendly, and alive with music.

Live bands, cafes, bars, popcorn sellers, grilled cheese stalls, families just enjoying the evening.

The Brazilians celebrate life. It’s always two or three streets back where things get grittier, and you do have to stay vigilant, but I felt safer than I ever expected to.

The people are warm and laid back. The food is incredible (filet mignon, I will miss you 🥩). The live music is everywhere. The history is heavy and important. And this country, which I was so unsure of, turned out to be one of the most surprising, diverse, and beautiful places I’ve ever been. (And we didn’t really scratch the surface).

Eight weeks. Seven cities. A panic attack, a dog scratch, a broken bus toilet, a collection of malaria tablet horror stories, and knees that are still speaking to me (just).

I could have stayed longer.

I just never did find a decent cup of black tea. ☕❤️

If this got you thinking about your own adventure (with or without black tea), I put together a course called “How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s and Beyond”. It's for the person who's been dreaming about it for years, has 47 tabs open on "best places to live abroad," and still isn't sure how to make it happen. It's the course I wish existed when we left the UK with a four-year-old and more optimism than sense.

Grab it Here for $197

Or if you’d rather just have everything (including “How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s and Beyond”), paid subscribers get The Backpack, (my growing library of guides, courses, and tools to help you build your freedom - over $500 of value), members-only Funding Freedom articles, monthly live calls, and anything new I add. All for a free trial and less than a questionable airport sandwich.

Get Free 7 Day Trial

Sarah is 58. She’s sitting at her kitchen table on a Tuesday morning, laptop open, with her coffee going cold.

She’s supposed to be prepping for a meeting but she’s looking at flights to Lisbon again.

She does this a lot.

Sarah’s been in the same industry for 30 years. She’s good at what she does, well respected and reasonably well paid. She dropped to 4 days a week last year, and told everyone it was for “balance,” which is partly true and partly because she needed a day to breathe and figure out what comes next.

Because what Sarah actually wants is to sit in a cafe overlooking the Mediterranean and work on something that’s hers. She wants to spend a month in the south of France and not call it a holiday because it’s just where she is right now. She wants to wake up and not know what country she’ll be in next Tuesday, and for that to feel normal.

She doesn’t want a gap year. She’s not interested in “finding herself.” She knows exactly who she is.

She wants a life that fits the woman she’s recently become.

While her friends are talking about downsizing and her colleagues are counting the years to retirement, Sarah feels like she’s only just getting started.

She wants to challenge herself. Immerse herself in the world around her and get lost in places that smell different, eat things she can’t pronounce, and haggle badly in markets.

And she wants to build something while she does it. Something with her name on it, that keeps her brain sharp, and connects her to people who think the way she does. A business she enjoys growing and that gives her purpose and funds her freedom at the same time.

She knows she can. She’s bought the courses, started 3 blogs, 2 podcasts, and an Etsy shop that sold one candle to her sister. She’s not stupid or lazy. She just can’t figure out how to make the internet care that she exists.

Sarah closes the Lisbon tab, opens her inbox and gets on with the task at hand.

But not for much longer....

Who Are You Writing For?

In her recent (excellent) article - ‘Who Are You Writing For?’ Linda Caroll articulated something I’ve been pondering for a while.

She said, ‘I think niche isn’t a topic, it’s a person.’

And I think she’s bang on.

Sarah is my person. She’s my niche. She’s the person I think about every time I sit down to write.

• What does she need to hear today?

• What’s she stuck on?

• What inspires her to take action?

• What would make her close the laptop feeling like she’s a step closer to the life she actually wants?

Working that out changed everything about how I approach my content, my products, and my business.

Focusing on your who rather than your what is something the younger generation of creators figured out a while back, while us OG’s have been quietly boxing ourselves in without even realising it.

The Truth That’s Been Keeping Us Trapped

This is a genuinely true statement. I’m not going to argue with it.

You can’t build an audience around golf and then try to sell pet products. Specificity sells.

The more clearly you can speak to someone’s exact situation, the more they feel like you’re reading their mind, which is what makes people subscribe, buy, and come back.

So what’s the problem?

The problem is what people do with that truth. They hear “niche down” and they pick a topic. Travel. Fitness. Cooking. Online business. And then they build a cage around it.

That topic becomes their identity, their content boundary, the thing they’re “allowed” to talk about. Everything else gets filtered out because it doesn’t fit the brand.

I know this because I did it for 15 years.

I started out as the “Facebook Queen” (a name my old mentor Chris Farrell gave me, and I ran with it). Then I became the social media person. Then online marketing. Then ecommerce. Then lifestyle business.

Every time I evolved or my interests shifted, I had to tear the whole thing down and start again. New brand, new positioning, new website, new audience. Because I thought my niche was my topic, and when the topic changed, I had to change everything with it.

The ridiculous thing is, I was talking to the same person the entire time. They were always there. They wanted freedom, they wanted to build something online, and they wanted to feel like they were capable of doing it. Whether I was teaching Facebook ads or selling products on Amazon, they were always showing up.

If I’d realised that 15 years ago, if I’d just been Jo Barnes talking about funding freedom and living a life worth waking up to, I could have taken them on the whole journey with me. Every pivot, every new thing I learned, every phase of the business would have been content.

I wouldn’t have needed 5 different brands. I would have needed one, with one person at the centre of it.

And I think this is where a lot of people get stuck. They’ve picked their topic, they’ve “niched down” like they were told to, and now they feel boxed in.

• They want to write about something else but it doesn’t fit.

• They want to evolve but they’re terrified of losing the audience they’ve built.

So they either stay in the cage and slowly lose enthusiasm, or they blow it up and start again from scratch.

Neither of those options is necessary when your niche is a person.

What Changes When You Know Your Person

My content covers travel, growing portable income, and ageing disgracefully.

On paper, that looks like 3 different niches. Any content strategist would tell me to pick one. And if I thought about my niche as a topic, they’d be right. It would be a mess.

Travel stories on Monday, business frameworks on Wednesday, a rant about society’s obsession with beige cardigans on Friday. Seemingly no coherence or through line.

But I don’t think about my niche as a topic. I think about my person.

She (or he) is in their late 50s or beyond. They’re vibrant, funny, and full of energy.

They’ve likely hiked mountains, travelled to places most people only pin on a board, and still feel like there’s more, not less, to do.

They’re either working a job they don’t really love anymore, have semi retired and are looking for ways to supplement their pension and fund their ideal lifestyle, or are living off savings working hard to crack the online income thing, so they can travel and grab the next few decades by the horns!

Whatever their circumstances, they want to embrace life, build something that gives them freedom, purpose and choice, and they’re done shrinking into what everyone around them expects someone their age to be.

They’re looking for inspiration, practical ideas, and someone who makes them feel like they’re not mad for wanting more at this stage of life.

And that’s where I come in!

• Travel stories to demonstrate the life they’re building towards.

• Business content to help them fund it.

• And ageing disgracefully riffs because without changing how they see themselves, they’ll never give themselves permission to do any of it.

3 pillars. One person. One life.

My topics may change, my person never does.

Your Boundary Isn’t Your Topic

So if you’ve been agonising over whether you’re a travel writer or a food writer or a business writer or a lifestyle creator, here’s the good news.

You don’t have to choose between the things you care about. You simply choose who you’re talking to.

When you really know your person, you’ll find your content is naturally broader than one topic. Because you’re serving a whole person, and whole people don’t live in a single lane.

They don’t wake up on Monday caring about fitness and Tuesday caring about mindset and Wednesday caring about nutrition as three separate interests. It’s all the same life. Your content should reflect that.

The boundary isn’t your topic. It’s your person. Write everything they need. Skip everything they don’t. That’s your niche.

Now, this doesn’t mean you can write about anything. I couldn’t suddenly start creating content about cryptocurrency for day traders and expect my audience to come along for the ride. That’s a different person with a different life and different problems.

The specificity still matters. It’s just getting specific about the person more than the topic.

Find Your Person

If this is resonating for you, try this. Sit down and describe your person. Not a demographics worksheet with income brackets and age ranges. A real person.

• Give them a name.

• What does their Saturday morning look like?

• What are they embarrassed to admit they want?

• What have they tried three times and walked away from?

• What are the people around them telling them to stop chasing?

• What do they google at midnight when they can’t sleep?

When you can see them that clearly, you’ll know what to write. You’ll stop second-guessing whether a post “fits your niche,” because if it serves your person, it fits.

You’ll stop trying to sound like an expert in a narrow field and start sounding like a person who understands their life.

Your niche isn’t travel. Or cooking. Or fitness. Or business. Your niche is a person who happens to care about those things because they’re all part of the same life they’re trying to build.

Find your person first and everything else will follow.

If this got you thinking about your version of Sarah I put together a course called “Start the Right Side Hustle After 50”. It’s for the person who’s had three blogs, two podcasts, and an Etsy shop that sold one candle to their sister, and is ready to figure out what really works. It’s the kind of thing I wish I’d had before I spent years picking the wrong business models and rebuilding from scratch.

Grab it Here for $47

Or if you’d rather just have everything, paid subscribers get The Backpack (a growing library of guides, courses, and tools to help you build your freedom), the members-only Funding Freedom articles, monthly live calls, and anything new I add. All for less than a questionable airport sandwich.

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A Peek Inside the Backpack

Funding Freedom: Building Portable Income

• How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s and Beyond - (Video Course)

• Start the Right Side Hustle After 50 - (Video Course)

• Start the Right Side Hustle After 50 - (The Self Guided Workbook Edition)

• 30 Day Product Launch Playbook - (Video & Written Daily Actions)

• The Simple List Builder - (Video Course)

• Substack for Beginners - (Video Course)

• Email List Building for Grown Ups - (Video Course)

• 51 Actionable Tips to Start an Online Business - Guide/Workbook

• The 50+ Solopreneur Starter Kit - Guide/Checklist/Resources

• 200+ Side Hustle Ideas for 50+ Nomads - Guide/Ebook

Life on the Road: Practical Travel Tools

• How to House Sit Your Way Around the World - (Video & Written Guide)

• How We Live in Five Star Resorts for Less Than $500 a Week (Ebook)

• Flying Smarter: How to Pay Less Without the Stress (Ebook)

• The Smart Travellers Guide to Owning Your Freedom (Ebook)

• How to Become a Digital Nomad in Your 50s & Beyond - Guide/Workbook

• The Nomad Goal Planner - Digital Journal

• The 50+ Bucket List Journal - Digital Journal

Aging Disgracefully

• Screw Retirement - Ebook

The Backpack is a living library. New resources are added regularly, and as a paid subscriber, you get every single one at no extra cost.

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Here’s what paid subscribers get each week:

Regular posts (Free + Paid): Articles about Funding Freedom, Life on the Road, and Aging Disgracefully. Travel stories, honest reflections, practical ideas, and the occasional moment of “what am I doing with my life?” 😳😂.

At least once a week (Paid only): A members only Funding Freedom article. The detailed, no-nonsense stuff about building portable income, what’s working, what isn’t, and what I recommend in todays world for 50+ freedompreneurs.

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Right, that's enough of me yakking at the departure gate. Let's open The Backpack:

Read more

• I quit a perfectly good career at 31 to start a business nobody thought was a good idea.

• I packed up and moved abroad at 38 with a 4-year-old and no plan.

• I’ve sold everything I own, several times over.

• I’ve started, succeeded and failed more businesses that most have had hot dinners

• I’ve recently become a full-time nomad in my 50s, living out of a carry-on bag with no fixed address and no intention of getting one.

None of that was always so popular with people around me. But I did it all anyway.

So when people ask me if your 50s are when you stop caring what people think, my honest answer is no. We’ll probably always care a little. It’s what makes us human.

But my 50s has changed something. I’ve just stopped explaining.

In my 30s I’d make a big decision and then spend weeks justifying it to everyone around me. In my 40s I’d still explain, but a bit quicker. By my 50s I just... stopped.

Not because I was suddenly gifted with swathes of courage. But when you start to realise the time ahead might be shorter than the time behind, you’ll quickly run out of interest in making sure everyone else is comfortable with your choices.

What the IDGAF Club Looks Like

If you’re in the club, you’ll know. It looks like this:

• It’s wearing whatever you want and not thinking twice about it. Gym top, flip flops, no makeup, hair doing its own thing. Life continues.

• It’s not having a clue what the latest trend is on TikTok or the most watched TV program on Netflix and not giving a hoot!

• It’s dancing around your living room to Fleetwood Mac or Michael Jackson like it’s 1982 and you’ve got nowhere to be…

• It’s JOMO! Saying no to the thing everyone else is going to and spending the evening in your pyjamas instead, and it being one of the best nights of your week.

• It’s realising the time ahead might be shorter than the time behind, and instead of that scaring you, it making you dance more, laugh louder, say the thing and book the trip. You’ve stopped waiting for the right moment because there isn’t one.

• It’s trusting yourself. Your gut. Your instincts. The quiet voice that always knew what it wanted but kept getting drowned out by everyone else’s opinions.

• It’s being completely and unapologetically comfortable in your own skin.

The Many Membership Perks of the IDGAF Club

The wonderful thing about getting older is that for every annoying thing your body throws at you, there’s a perk you weren’t expecting.

And some of them are brilliant.

For starters, “no” becomes a complete sentence.

My 19-year-old daughter has been telling me this for years. (She’s an old soul, that one. It took me about three decades longer than her to figure it out). But she’s right.

You stop saying yes to things your whole body is screaming no at, and you stop writing three-paragraph justifications for perfectly reasonable decisions.

And quite frankly, menopause-fuelled irritability helps. Hard to people-please when you haven’t got the patience for it.

Nothing Left to Prove

You also lose any desire to prove yourself. I did a 3-day hike through Pati Valley in Chapada Diamantina recently, and on Day 2, my guide gently suggested I skip the steep castle climb with all the twenty-somethings and head to the waterfalls instead.

Old me would have pushed through just to show I could. This me didn’t need asking twice. We clambered over rocks and swam in waterfalls and it was one of the best days of the trip.

Don’t get me wrong, I still want to push myself and stay young and vital, but I’m happy to do so enjoyably, without the need to impress anyone along the way.

No Approval Needed

At some point you also stop needing a committee for every decision.

My Dad used to tell me off for this in my 20s. Always seeking approval, always needing someone to tell me I was making the right call. He told me I needed to trust myself more.

He passed almost twenty years ago now, but I think he’d be pleased to know I finally listened. These days I just do the thing. Decades of getting it right, and at times spectacularly wrong, have given me all the evidence I need.

Your give-a-damn list shrinks too. You used to care about a hundred things, like leaving the house without makeup or whether someone had texted you back.

Now you know people are busy, your face is your face, and life goes on.

The Golden Ticket

One of the best perks by far though is the glorious knowledge that no-one gives a damn who you are anymore (I’m not talking about friends and loved ones).

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way I became completely invisible. It might have been the time a barman completely skipped me in the queue at a bar in Spain, or when I got totally ignored at the souk in Morocco.

At first it was disconcerting, (especially when you want a drink). But then I realised what an absolute blessing it is.

No catcalls or unsolicited opinions. Nobody worried about what you look like or what you’re wearing. You just move through the world, unseen and unbothered. It is, the golden ticket of age (for females anyway).

We Are the Champions

And last but by no means least, there’s the quiet, unshakeable, and completely correct knowledge that the best music ever made came from the 70s and 80s.

We got to listen to it on vinyl, make mixed tapes, and hover over the pause button on the radio trying to catch our favourite songs. Every generation thinks their music was the best, obviously. We just happen to be right. (Shhh, don’t tell the Gen Zs.)

The Membership Fees

Of course, every club has its fees. Nobody tells you about them when you sign up, they just start showing up.

My knees are slowly falling apart. I could keep them at bay by going to the gym and strengthening my legs, but getting me there is like getting a teenager out of bed on a Saturday.

I know I need to. I will tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes. So the last hike I did absolutely destroyed me and I spent two days afterwards walking around like a woman twice my age.

My eyesight, which has been rubbish since my 20s, has decided to add a new trick. I can see far away just fine, but hold anything closer than arm’s length and it’s a blur.

I now read menus like a trombone player, sliding them back and forth until the words come into focus.

And then there’s the bloody menopause, which arrived less like a chapter and more like a hostile takeover.

Brain fog so thick some days I can’t finish a sentence, let alone a paragraph. I sit down to work and absolutely nothing happens, I just stare at the screen like it owes me money.

I used to smash through a to-do list like a speed round on Supermarket Sweep. Now some days the list wins. And the mood swings have me wanting to argue with inanimate objects.

Your fees will look different to mine.

• Maybe your knees are fine but your back's gone.

• Maybe you sleep like a baby but can't remember why you walked into a room.

• Maybe you've sailed through menopause but your metabolism has decided to retire without telling you.

We've all got a list. The details change, the comedy doesn't.

These are the fees. And if you’ve read the perks, you know they’re worth every creaky, foggy, trombone-playing one of them.

Welcome to the Club

The IDGAF Club isn’t something you join in your 50s. For some of us it started decades ago. Your 50s just turned down the noise.

The explaining stops. The apologising stops. The pretending you’re someone more sensible stops.

And yes, your body throws in a few curveballs you didn’t ask for. But even those come with a strange kind of freedom.

When your knees hurt and your brain fogs up and you can’t read a menu without holding it at arm’s length, the stuff that never really mattered? It really, truly stops mattering.

And you’re left with the stuff that does.

The friendships. The freedom. The adventures. The people you love. And a much shorter list of things you’re willing to waste energy on.

If any of that sounds familiar, welcome. You’ve likely been a member longer than you think.

And if you’re not quite there yet, keep going. The membership fee is just time and a growing unwillingness to put up with anything that doesn’t serve you.

You’ll know you’ve arrived when someone asks why you made a decision and your only answer is “because I wanted to.”

My note:

The Response;

Firstly, thank you to Susan for being so open and honest and responding in such a self aware way.

That’s half the battle conquered already.

Secondly, if you’re nodding along in empathy with Susan, please know you’re not alone. That feeling of overwhelm, information overload and not knowing where to start is the most common reason so many incredibly talented people never get a freedom funding business off the ground.

And yet, it’s not the real reason. At the risk of sounding like AI (which this is not, this is me writing with my own hand), overwhelm is, in reality, fear dressed up as an emotion we can relate to.

And the only way through it, is to stop thinking and start doing.

The Research Loop (aka The Comfiest Trap in the World)

The great thing about research, is that it feels like progress.

You’re learning, taking notes, comparing platforms, reading reviews and watching 3-hour YouTube breakdowns of affiliate marketing funnels.

What a productive learning day!

And at the end of it, you know maybe slightly more than you did yesterday, (depending on how much info you can retain - which in my menopausal brain ain’t much these days) but you’ve built precisely nothing.

I know this, not just from the questions and conversations I’ve had over the years, but also because I myself have lived in that loop for months, sometimes for years.

Before I launched my first business, after my first big failure, after burn out, even before I launched my ecommerce brand This Big World in January.

I told myself I was “sharpening the saw”, as per the famous Lincoln quote.

"Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the ax,"

But what I was actually doing was avoiding the terrifying moment where I’d have to put something out into the world and risk it (and me) being seen as rubbish, or silly, or out of touch, or whatever judgement fear we have deep inside.

The research loop, also called ‘The Resistance’ in Steven Pressfield’s book ‘The War of Art’, is crazy dangerous because it masquerades as productivity.

You feel busy. You feel like you’re making informed decisions. But what you’re actually doing is giving yourself permission to not start, over and over again, while feeling virtuous about it.

But starting imperfectly and risking being bad at it on your first go (and maybe second and third) is the whole game.

Which leads nicely to…

You Don’t Need to Be an Expert

Let’s address Susan’s comment about wishing to be “an expert in one thing.”

The good news is: nobody starts as an expert. You become one by doing the thing repeatedly, in public, and getting slightly less terrible at it over time.

When I started my first online business in 2010. I didn’t know what an opt-in page was. I didn’t know websites began with https:// (and got publicly humiliated in the Warrior Forum when I asked about it). I spent 4 hours one day trying to embed a paypal button in a page, and an entire afternoon crying with frustration when I couldn’t upload a video (pre YouTube embeds!).

One of my favourite stories is when I was unable to turn off a webinar at the end of a presentation, had to be guided through it by one of the attendees and then swore loudly at my incompetence as I thought I was off air but was still live! 😂

I had zero tech skills, an old laptop, and a 4-year-old using me as a climbing frame.

I wasn’t qualified or ready. I just started, took action every day, and figured it out as I went along.

16 years later, I’ve built multiple businesses, sold a 7-figure Amazon business, and am writing this from the real Amazon (ironic) in Brazil while running two brands from my laptop.

I’m not smarter, more talented, or more techy than Susan or anyone else.

I just err on the side of action and refuse to stop, even when it gets hard. (Probably especially when it gets hard).

If I Were Starting From Scratch Today

As for a blueprint, mentoring or pointing towards help, here’s exactly what I’d do if I were starting from zero in 2026, with no audience, no tech skills, and no idea what I was doing.

Just 4 key steps.

1. Pick your topic.

Not the most profitable topic. Not the one some bloke on YouTube promised would make you six figures in 90 days. Pick something you enjoy talking about. Something you’re interested in, have experience with, or just won’t shut up about at dinner parties.

Pets. Travel. Health. Menopause. Leadership. Parenting. Retiring well. Art. Music. Baking. Gardening. Grief. Fitness over 50. Vintage cars. Literally anything.

If you have opinions on it and could happily bang on about it for six months, it’s a valid topic.

2. Pick your audience.

Your niche is not your topic, it’s your audience.

Who do you want to talk to, help, serve, inspire, entertain?

Who are you writing for, creating for, adding value to?

“Everyone” is not an audience. Everyone means no one.

Get specific. Who exactly are you talking to?

• Women over 50 who want to get fit but hate the gym?

• Blokes who’ve just retired and are going quietly mad?

• First-time dog owners who are in way over their heads?

The more specific you are about your ‘who’, the easier everything else becomes.

3. Pick one platform and show up every day for six months.

Not five platforms. One.

Post consistently, build an audience, and encourage people to sign up for your email list. That’s the whole game at this stage.

(Substack is brilliant for this because your newsletter, your content, and your subscriber list all live in the same place. No funnels, no separate email software, no tech headaches.)

6 months of showing up will teach you more than six years of watching webinars ever could.

4. Listen to your audience and sell them what they want.

Once you’ve got people paying attention, they will tell you what they need.

In the comments. In the DMs. In the questions they keep asking. That’s when you create or find a product to sell them. Not before. Not based on what you think they want. Based on what they’ve actually told you.

That’s it. That’s the whole blueprint.

Everything else (the fancy websites, the complicated funnels, the seventeen different software subscriptions) is stuff you figure out later, if and when you need it.

The tools in 2026 are absurdly easy. AI can help you write copy, design graphics, and figure out almost anything you’re stuck on.

You don’t need expensive courses. You need these 4 steps and the willingness to expose yourself online (not literally obviously! 😂)

The Real Problem

As I said at the start, it’s not the courses or webinars that are the problem.

The information overload isn’t the problem or the ADHD brain (though I have sympathy, truly).

The problem is that starting something real is scary.

It means you might fail. It means someone might judge you. It means that comfortable identity of “person who’s going to start a business one day” gets replaced by “person who started a business and it might not work.”

That second identity is much more uncomfortable, but it’s also the only one that leads anywhere.

When I launched my travel challenge cards in January, I had a literal meltdown. (Just ask my husband).

When my vision turned into reality and I now had to start promoting and asking people to ‘buy my stuff’, I panicked!

‘Who’s going to buy? No one will like them? They’re silly, they don’t solve a real problem, it was a stupid idea!’

And that was after a solid year of procrastination & ‘research’.

But I took action, started selling and last week hit my first big milestone of over 200 packs ($5k in sales) sold.

Susan pretty much answered her own question when she said that she feels like if she could just get started, she’d figure it out.

She’s right.

She (and you) absolutely would. The figuring-out happens in the doing, not in the researching.

So, Susan (and Friends)

Close the browser tabs. Cancel the next webinar. Forget about finding the perfect business model.

Pick one thing. The one that makes you feel a tiny spark of “ooh, I could do that.”

Give yourself 90 days to try it. Not 90 days to research it. Ninety days to actually do it, no matter how imperfectly and likely with no idea what you’re doing half the time.

It’s how anybody who’s ever done anything worth talking online about started.

Not with a perfect blueprint. With a deep breath and a wonky first attempt.

The hardest part is starting and trying long enough to make some progress. Everything after that is just problem-solving, and you’ve been doing that your whole life.

So pick your thing & make it happen. I’ll be here cheering you on.

And actually, Susan, I want to put my money where my mouth is.

I have a course called ‘Start the Right Side Hustle (How to Go From Stuck to Started)’ on Gumroad that walks you through exactly this process, step by step. It’s normally $47, but I’m going to give it to you for free. Keep your eye on your Substack inbox for access details.

For everyone else reading this who feels like Susan & is stuck in their own research loop, you can find the mini course here. (Or join as an annual subscriber to get my complete library for free!)

It’s not another strategy or new idea to add to your overwhelm. It’s action based exercises you can do in a weekend to move you from thinking to doing.

It’s the blueprint Susan asked for, to get you off the starting line. 🔥

I hope it helps! I’m off piranha fishing 😳 Wish me luck! 😂

We just left the city of Sao Luis yesterday having arrived the day before from our amazing trip to the Lencois Maranhenses National Park.

While in Sao Luis, ChatGPT suggested we go for a wander through the old town ‘in daylight hours’ but as we drove through the crumbling neighbourhoods, and after the excitement of the preceding days, we decided to skip it & head to the ‘Lavanderia’ instead! (Needs must when you’re travelling with scant clothes.)

And what an experience! There was a desk & 2 chairs so we took our computers, bought a couple of cold beers from the convenience store next door, & had a ball while washing our clothes & getting a bit of work done!

Rhett even popped next door for a quick haircut!

The highlight was a couple asking me, in a language I didn’t understand, how to use the washers. Through the universal language of sign we all succeeded in our endeavours and left with clean and dry undies! What a thrill. 😁

Anyway back to the bus…

This whole top Northern coastline in Brazil is a little more challenging to navigate than the popular tourist hotspots.

We flew to Fortaleza, (missing out some spectacular coastline by the way, which we will be back to explore), bussed 8hrs to Jericoacoara, which I will be writing about as it’s one of the most magical places I’ve ever visited. 🥰

Then changed vehicles (& drivers) 4 times for an uncomfortable 10 hour transfer to Barreirinhas (pronounced - Bah Hah Reen Ya) to visit the Lencois Maranhenses National Park (wow), then jumped into a van for a 4hr journey up to Sao Luis.

I’m now writing this post 13hrs into our 16hr journey on an overnight bus (with a broken toilet) to Belem where we’ll fly to Manaus (The Amazon 😳).

And if all that sounds exhausting, it is! I’m not getting any bloody younger. 😂

So, as we got on our overnight bus the loo was fully operational, the seats looked good, all was well. But somewhere mid journey I merrily popped my head round the toilet door to find it filled to the brim with water (thank god that’s all it was filled with.)

I was pretty desperate so my knight in shining armour husband went in and ‘fixed it’ adding very grumpily ‘don’t ask’ as he came out.

I didn’t ask, but the half a bottle use of my hand sanitiser told me all I needed to know! 😳

Thankfully the bus has stopped for toilet & food breaks a couple of times en route so it’s not as bad as you might imagine! Plus the seats are recliners & quite comfy, so I did get some sleep and am feeling pretty good this morning!

But not withstanding some long hours in buses, what an exhilarating couple of weeks it’s been. Fortaleza was surprising, Jericoacoara magical, Lencois Maranhenses out of this world and next stop….

…unbearable humidity, tarantulas, piranhas, crocs & bugs. (I’m not freaking out at all!)

Updates to follow….

I write about the good, the bad and the downright ugly of nomadic life after 50. How I fund it, how I live it, and how I’m ageing disgracefully doing it. Annual subscribers get my full library of guides, courses and resources. Just saying. 😏

“How do I sell digital products when I don’t have an audience?”

And while I’d love to give you a litany of examples of where this is possible, the honest answer is… you don’t.

Imagine opening a shoe stall in the middle of the desert. Beautiful shoes, hand-stitched, great quality. But if nobody’s walking past, nobody’s buying.

The shoes may be the best in the world, but if no one knows you exist, it’s irrelevant.

Unfortunately it’s one of the biggest reasons so many brilliant ideas never turn into sales. Not because the products aren’t good, but because no one knows your brand exists yet.

I’ve made the mistake plenty of times myself. I’ve created planners, guides, and mini-courses that I thought people wanted, only to launch them into the void.

No sales, no feedback, just the sound of crickets and tumbleweed whistling through my inbox!

I thought my products were great and super valuable but I just hadn’t built enough trust, connection, or community around them.

Build first. Sell later.

Now imagine you’ve wandered into a huge Bedouin camp, with hundreds of barefoot nomads preparing to cross a rough stretch of mountains.

Their feet are cracked. The ground is freezing. Everyone knows the journey ahead is tough.

You set up the exact same shoe shop, but this time you do it in the middle of the camp.

You chat to people. You run short walk-around-the-camp demonstrations. You explain which shoes are best for rocky ground. You help them try on a pair.

How many shoes do you think you’d sell then?

It’s the same product, but a different environment, and a different outcome.

That’s the whole game online.

If you want to sell anything, digital, physical, or otherwise, you need to find the people who might genuinely need what you’re making, show them how it helps, and stay front-of-mind long enough for them to trust you.

The good news is you don’t need thousands of people. A small, engaged group is more than enough to start.

Here’s how to build that group:

1. Pick your target market. Who do you want to help and why?

2. Share value consistently. Educate, inspire, or entertain through content that speaks directly to them.

3. Build your email list. This is where your relationship deepens. Platforms like Substack make it easy to publish, grow, and connect all in one place.

4. Listen and engage. Ask questions. Start conversations. Notice what people respond to.

5. Create products that solve real problems. Don’t guess. Build from what your audience tells you they need.

It takes time and tenacity, and that’s where most people fall off. But those who stay the course build a foundation strong enough to sell with ease later.

When Your Products Still Aren’t Selling

If you’ve been creating things for a while and it feels like you’re trying your absolute best but nothing’s moving, you’re not alone. Someone else messaged me recently saying:

“I’ve created a few products, but none of them are selling. I enjoy making them, but I struggle to convince people to buy.”

That feeling is far more common than you think. And it brings us right back to our little Bedouin camp. Because even inside the camp, surrounded by the right people, you can still struggle to sell your shoes if:

1. They don’t know or trust the seller (you).

If you suddenly appear out of nowhere offering expensive hiking boots, they’ll hesitate. They’ve never seen you before. They’re not sure you understand their journey. They need time to feel safe buying from you.

That’s where your warm-up phase online comes in, creating consistent, helpful content and building your audience and email list.

2. You’re offering the wrong thing.

If your shop is full of flimsy flip-flops and everyone’s about to trek across icy mountains, it doesn’t matter how beautiful the sandals are. They’re not relevant right now.

This is what happens when we create the products we like, rather than the products our audience actually need.

3. You’re not demonstrating the value.

If you don’t offer those little walking tours to show the difference between your sturdy boots and their cracked bare feet, they won’t understand why your product matters.

This is your messaging, your examples, your before-and-after stories and your “let me show you what this can do” demonstrations - (webinars, sales pages, articles, videos. podcasts etc).

When you fix these three things, gradually you will start to make some sales. You won’t be retiring overnight, but you will start to feel encouraged!

Because selling isn’t about convincing. It’s about relevance, clarity, and trust.

Starting From Zero (And Why It Feels Hard)

Of course when you’re starting from zero, none of this feels easy. You don’t have a camp. You don’t have barefoot nomads. You’re basically standing in the desert with your shoes, talking to the wind.

But every single person you admire online started the same way. Zero followers. Zero subscribers. Zero sales. Just one person posting something valuable. Then another. Then another.

The first few months will feel quiet. You’ll second-guess everything, and you’ll wonder whether it’s working at all. But you’ll keep going anyway, because every post, every email, and every conversation is another person wandering into your camp.

And you don’t need hundreds. You just need enough people to start trying on the shoes.

Promote, Then Promote Again

Once you do start creating products, don’t fall into the “post once and pray” trap.

Even the people who love your work will miss half of what you share. They’re busy. Life is loud.

It’s not personal.

Think of it this way. You wouldn’t set up your shoe stall, shout about it once, then sit quietly in the corner hoping someone remembers you’re there. You’d keep chatting. Keep demonstrating, and keep showing people what you’ve got and why it matters.

• Tell the story behind your product.

• Share who inspired it.

• Show the process.

• Mention it casually inside other posts.

• Teach one tiny part from inside it.

I promise you’re not being pushy if it’s valuable. You’re helping and promoting at the same time. It’s what every successful (and trusted) creator does.

When Nothing Seems to Happen

Someone else said to me recently, “I don’t know if it’s the product or the marketing, but nothing is working.”

Most of the time it’s a mixture of both, and that’s okay. Remember our Bedouin camp.

• Even with the right crowd around you, you might be selling flip-flops when they need boots.

• Or you’ve got the perfect boots but you haven’t shown anyone what they can do.

• Or you’ve done everything right but your camp is still only three people and a camel.

Your early products are experiments. They help you listen better, test faster, and figure out what your particular crowd actually needs.

Sometimes the product is great but the message is off. Sometimes the audience is warm but the offer needs tweaking. Everything gets better the more you create.

And then one day something clicks. Someone buys your product, then shares it with someone else, who also buys it. The sales start to come in.

That moment changes everything. But it doesn’t come from nowhere. It comes from all the months of showing up that felt like nothing was happening.

The Real Secret

The best selling never feels like selling. It feels like helping. It sounds like, “I made this because I know how tough this bit can be, and it might help.”

You don’t need a huge audience, you just need a warm one. It doesn’t matter how small as long as they know you, trust you, and feel like you genuinely understand their world.

Build the camp first. Chat to the people in it. Find out what they need. Then make the thing that helps.

That’s how you turn ideas into income.

And if it feels slow right now, you’re not behind. You’re just building your camp.

If not, now you do and you can thank me later when you win the local pub quiz!

It comes from pau-brasil, or brazilwood, a tree the Portuguese found growing in abundance along the coast. The wood produced a valuable red dye that became a major export, and eventually the name stuck to the whole country.

I learned this from Adriano, our walking tour guide in Salvador, who was a ridiculously knowledgeable historian! I retained about 10% of the history. My husband retained less.

We’d only stopped in Salvador for two days on route to Lençóis to go hiking in the Chapada Diamantina National Park. I wasn’t expecting much, which is always the moment an experience floors you right?

Because Salvador, being the birthplace of Brazil, is super interesting, and the historic centre of Pelourinho, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is so ridiculously gorgeous I decided to dedicate an entire post just to this area.

So here’s a quick rundown of our whistlestop 48 hours.

Sunset at the Lighthouse

We stayed in Farol da Barra near the lighthouse, home to the best sunset in Brazil (according to ChatGPT - which of course is always 100% accurate 😉).

It’s also the safer, more touristy end of the city and a solid base if you want to explore without having to stuff your passport in your bra. (Not sure of the equivalent for the male reader! 😂)

We arrived late in the evening so our first real taste of Salvador was Sunday morning, heading out for our walking tour of Pelourinho. I’d done zero research. In fact I couldn’t have pointed to Salvador on a map a week earlier. Sometimes that’s the best way to travel!

The Birthplace of Brazil! 🇧🇷

In 1500, Portuguese explorer Pedro Álvares Cabral landed further south along the coast. But it was here in Salvador that the Portuguese really set up shop.

They named the bay Baía de Todos os Santos because they sailed in on All Saints’ Day. (Imaginative lot, the Portuguese.) Salvador became the first capital of colonial Brazil and stayed that way for over 200 years.

Pelourinho itself means “pillory” in Portuguese, named after the post in the main square where enslaved people were publicly punished.

And that’s the thing that starts to dawn on you as you walk around. This gorgeous, Instagram-worthy town was built on top of one of the most brutal chapters in human history.

The African Heart of Salvador

Adriano walked us through the layers of African culture woven into everything here.

Salvador is the largest city of African descent outside of Africa, and it shows. The influence is everywhere, in the music, the food, the religion, the art.

The bit that really stuck with me was about Candomblé, the Afro-Brazilian religion that took root here. Enslaved Africans were forced to adopt Catholic practices, but rather than conform, they disguised their own deities as Catholic saints. From the outside it looked like conversion, but underneath, their traditions survived. Brilliant.

I particularly liked the stories about the beaded necklaces tied to the orixás (deities), each colour representing a different deity and personality. I fancied myself red, for fire, passion and vital energy. (Menopause has certainly leant itself to the fire part anyway. 🥵)

Then there’s capoeira, the martial art/dance hybrid I first saw at Favela Rocinha in Rio.

Created by enslaved Africans as resistance disguised as play, it was illegal in Brazil until 1940. Now it’s practised in town squares all over Salvador and there’s a brilliant monument called the Arena da Capoeira near the port celebrating the biggest names in the tradition.

Michael Jackson Was Here

As we wound through the streets, Adriano got visibly excited as he pointed up at a balcony on one of the colonial buildings.

In 1996, Michael Jackson came to Pelourinho to film “They Don’t Care About Us” with Spike Lee. The Brazilian government tried to ban the shoot, worried it would damage the country’s image. Jackson was having none of it. He collaborated with Olodum, Salvador’s legendary drum collective, and the video put Pelourinho on the world stage.

The house is still there. You can pay 10 reais (about $1.50) to go up to the balcony where he danced, or you can do what I did and take a photo from the street like a cheapskate.

Why the Colourful Houses?

Something I’d been wondering the whole tour was why all the colonial buildings were painted in such bright colours.

Turns out they weren’t always like this. Pelourinho was crumbling into serious disrepair through much of the 20th century. A major restoration effort in the 1990s brought the colours, partly to celebrate Salvador’s African and Bahian identity, and partly to attract tourism.

It worked. Pelourinho became a UNESCO World Heritage Site. But the gentrification that followed displaced many of the original residents, which is its own complicated story.

An Homage to a Tragic History

After the tour we wandered down to the Mercado Modelo, the old customs house in the lower city. It’s a bustling market now, full of Bahian arts, crafts and souvenirs. Worth a browse, but it’s what’s underneath that’s important.

In the basement, the Galeria Mercado sits in what were once slave quarters. Enslaved people brought from Africa were held in these chambers below sea level, chained to the walls until they were sold. The space would sometimes flood with the tide.

After being closed for 15 years, it reopened in 2024 as a gallery with permanent art installations. It’s been done very tastefully. It’s understated, and deeply respectful, creating a space that gently honours what happened here.

Lunch in the Sun

We had lunch at Poró, recommended by Adriano, and it was gorgeous. If you go, get the filet mignon. The quality of the beef was outstanding and the price was laughable.

I insisted on sitting outside in the sun because I’m British and that’s what we do. By the time we finished our steaks, my husband looked like he’d just completed a half marathon. I regret nothing.

Drinking With the Locals

We got back up to the main square just in time to see Didá Banda Feminina marching through the streets, drumming and dancing. It was International Women’s Day and here was an entire band of women spreading joy through the city. Absolutely loved it.

Then we settled in at O Cravinho, the local tourist & Cachaca hotspot! If you don’t know cachaça, it’s Brazil’s national spirit, distilled from sugarcane juice.

We started chatting with a local called Philipe who introduced us to Senzala, a local cachaça. Senzala is smooth, grapey, slightly sweet, and dangerously drinkable. The name means “slave quarters,” which ties right back into Salvador’s story. Even the drinks carry history here.

I’m not sure how many we had, but by early evening when we joined the crowd on the hill by the lighthouse to watch the sunset, I was singing along with the band and clapping with the crowd when the sun finally dipped!

Plus the queijo sticks we had on route home felt like the best we’d ever tasted! (What was in that Cachaca??)

Day Two: Bonfim, Moqueca, and Sunset in the Sea

The next morning we headed to the Igreja de Nosso Senhor do Bonfim, the most famous church in Salvador. The iron railings outside are thick with thousands of colourful fitas, tied there by devotees and visitors making their wishes.

Bonfim means “good end” in Portuguese, and the church has a long reputation for miracles.

The day before, Adriano had given us each a Bonfim ribbon, partly as a gift and partly, he said, so we wouldn’t be hassled by the street sellers. (Smart man.)

The ribbons are 47 centimetres long, the exact length of the right arm of the Christ statue inside the church. You tie them with three knots, make a wish with each one, and when the ribbon naturally wears through and falls off, your wishes come true. You can’t cut it. You can’t tell anyone what you wished for.

We ended up with three, so we tied one each and one together. It was unexpectedly romantic for two people who’ve been married long enough to argue about Google Maps.

Inside, the church was unexpectedly lovely! There’s an alcove at the back filled with photos, handwritten notes and even prosthetic limbs left by people who made the pilgrimage seeking healing. (I’m not convinced all of them were real prosthetics but I wasn’t about to touch one and find out.)

From there we walked to Ponta do Humaitá, a headland that juts out into the Bay of All Saints and tried Moqueca for the first time at a little restaurant overlooking the bay.

Moqueca is a traditional Bahian fish stew made with coconut milk, palm oil, tomatoes and coriander, slow-cooked and served in a clay pot. It sounds gorgeous right?. But was actually a bit tasteless. I’m not sure whether that’s the dish, or the restaurant. Jury’s still out and I’ll update when I’ve tried another one.

Sunset in the Sea

That evening we did one of my favourite things. Bought a couple of strawberry squiffy drinks, put on our swimmers and headed to the beach near the lighthouse.

The night before we’d watched sunset from the hill. Tonight we wanted it from the water. And it didn’t disappoint.

And then, standing in the sea as the sky turned orange, who should appear but Adriano. Off duty, with his wife and family, wading in for their own sunset swim. We stood there chatting in the water, watching the sun go down together.

It was one of those completely unplanned moments that makes you think, ‘yeah, this is exactly why we do this….’

A pretty perfect end to a very short stay in Salvador.

There’s a particular kind of optimism required to board a 7-hour bus through the Brazilian northeast when you’ve spent the last 24 hours surviving on sips of water and blind faith in Imodium.

It’s the kind that hopes desperately that binge watching Bridgerton episodes will distract you. The kind that hopes the air con is strong…

And the kind that ignores the fact that the last 90 minutes of this journey involves a 4x4 bouncing across open sand dunes to reach a village with no paved roads. 😳

I am currently that optimist.

We’re leaving Fortaleza this morning, heading for Jericoacoara, or ‘Jeri’, as everyone calls it, because life is too short to keep pronouncing 6 syllables when 2 will do.

It’s a tiny beach town on Brazil’s northern coast, tucked behind dunes, only reachable by off-road vehicle, and somewhere that people either rave about or have never heard of. (I’m the latter, looking forward to being the former!)

But before we go there, let’s me tell you about..

The Fortaleza Surprise

The past week has been a work week. As nomadic solopreneurs, we’re still working on the whole travel/work balancing act, and desperately needed a few days catch up.

We chose Fortaleza as our mission base and flew up a few days ago from Salvador.

I’ll be honest. I’d written Fortaleza off before we arrived. Everything I’d read made it sound like a concrete sprawl with a beach attached. A city you pass through on the way to somewhere more interesting.

I was wrong.

Fortaleza has a full 34 kilometres of coastline!

The beaches are enormous.

They feel like you could walk for 20 minutes and still not reach the water’s edge at low tide.

The ocean is warm, and in the evenings, the promenade along Praia de Iracema comes alive in a way that made me fall for the place almost immediately.

Market stalls and food vendors and little plastic tables outside restaurants where people sit drinking ice-cold beer and eating grilled fish while someone plays guitar on a corner. Kids running around. Couples walking. Old men arguing about football.

The whole lovely, chaotic theatre of Brazilian street life happening in every direction.

We found a little apartment just off the main stretch with beach views (almost!) and settled in for a productive week.

And it was, mostly. Right up until my stomach staged a mutiny.

The Apartment Revelation

I should say something about the apartment, because I’ve had a bit of an accommodation conversion happening on this trip.

I am a hotel person. I have always been a hotel person. I like someone else making the bed. I like not having to think about where the nearest supermarket is. I like breakfast appearing without effort. I like the fact that when something breaks, you ring a desk and someone else deals with it. (Yes, I am totally spoilt!)

Hotels remove friction from travel, and when you spend your life living out of a suitcase you come to appreciate anything that removes friction.

But we’re now on our second Brazilian apartment and they’re super convenient & great value.

This one in Fortaleza has been clean, well-equipped, had a nice balcony (I do like a balcony) a proper kitchen and a laundry room in the building.

When you’re living out of a carry-on bag for weeks at a stretch, the ability to wash everything and start fresh is borderline life-changing. You stop doing that grim mental calculation of “can I get one more day out of this t-shirt” and just throw it all in.

(NB: For the most part here in Brazil, detergents are injected automatically into the wash which is extremely handy!)

It’s so funny how the smallest things become the most liberating!

The kitchen also means you can keep costs down on the days when you don’t want to eat out. Which, when your body has decided that food is the enemy and water is merely tolerated, turns out to be quite useful.

What Doesn’t Kill You

The stomach bug arrived yesterday on our last day. I have no idea where from. Rhett & I ate the same foods the day before and if anything was awry it’s usually him that succumbs.

I, very luckily, have been gifted with the digestive system of a mountain goat, so an episode like this is very unusual for me.

Anyway. At least the buses here are super comfy (that’s until we board the bone shaker into town).

The Road Ahead

Jeri is the first stop on what’s shaping up to be one of the more ambitious stretches of this trip.

From there, we’re working our way along Brazil’s northern coast towards Lençóis Maranhenses, which is a national park full of freshwater lagoons sitting between sand dunes.

It looks like someone photoshopped a desert and a swimming pool together. I can’t wait to see it for myself! (Pics to follow)

Then on to Belém, and from Belém we fly to Manaus. The Amazon.

That’s the plan, anyway. Plans in Brazil tend to be more like suggestions. Buses get cancelled. Roads flood. Your stomach rebels. You learn to think in loose terms.

But right now, I’m packed. The Imodium is packed. My optimism, battered but intact, is packed.

Wish me luck with that 4x4. 😳😂

In the weeks before I flew to Rio, my phone felt like a rolling feed of doom.

• “Be SO careful.”

• “Don’t take your phone out.”

• “My friend’s cousin got robbed there.”

• “Are you sure about this?”

A good friend of mine who’d lived in Brazil some years ago, even warned me ‘if someone robs you, give your bag straight away, as there’s likely to be a guy with a gun round the corner’.

Ok then….😳

Google wasn’t helping either. Every travel forum had a horror story, and every blog post came with a safety warning longer than the article itself.

It reminded me of one of my favourite bits in the movie Armageddon when Truman describes the asteroid..

I’m not going to lie, I was pretty darn anxious, and by the time I boarded the plane, I’d half convinced myself I was flying into an urban warzone.

And then I landed….

Arriving in Lapa (With My Guard Very Much Up)

I arrived with my sister. We’d come to do Carnaval which has been on my bucket list for years.

We both arrived with I think roughly equal measures of excitement and trepidation. But we’d done the sensible thing and booked ourselves on a group tour.

(NB: If you’re ever worried about a destination when travelling I highly recommend group tours. They’re a great way to get the lay of the land in a more secure and comfortable way).

And this one looked brilliant. 6 days, 5 nights, all based around the Carnaval. We were staying in the same hotel, with group day trips, Sambadrome nights, city tours, beach days, the lot.

We also had tickets for the Champions Parade at the end of Carnaval which we’d booked prior to doing the tour. (More on that later, because it deserves its own paragraph. Or five).

Our hotel was in Lapa, which is the party district, and just a short walk from the Sambadrome. And if I’m going to be honest, staying in Lapa during Carnaval is a bit of a baptism by fire! 😵‍💫

It’s loud, chaotic, a bit seedy, and it smells. Like, really smells. Think overflowing bins mixed with street food mixed with whatever happens when a million people party in 37-degree heat for a week straight. (I kid you not).

But from the moment we arrived, the Brazilians were incredibly warm, open, and genuinely happy to see you there.

It’s definitely a place where the people completely change the energy of a city. I had my guard up, sure. I was watching my surroundings, and my bag like a hawk. But if there was danger on the streets, we didn’t really feel it.

Carnaval: Organised Chaos in Glitter

Carnaval is a riot. There’s no other word for it.

Imagine every street being a party. Costumes everywhere. Colours you didn’t know existed. And so much glitter. ✨

I’m still finding it my bags! It gets into everything - your hair, your shoes, your clothes, even your soul!

I’ll be honest, I expected more live music on the streets than there was. But what you get instead are the Blocos. Massive roaming or static street parties, each one with its own vibe and energy.

We did a Beatles Bloco in Flamengo and it was genuinely one of the most fun mornings of my life. Classic tunes, dancing, a few squiffy drinks before midday (don’t judge me, it was 37 degrees by 10am), and getting soaked by fire hoses!

Just walking through Lapa and Flamengo during Carnaval week is an experience on its own. You don’t need a plan. You just need comfy shoes, a sense of humour, and a willingness to get glitter-bombed by strangers.

The Sambadrome (And Why We Stayed Until 7am)

If you do one thing in Rio during Carnaval, make it the Sambadrome.

We went twice. The first time was amazing. The second time, the Champions Parade on the final night, was something else entirely.

Here’s what I didn’t fully understand before I went. The Samba Schools aren’t actually schools. They’re communities. Each one has over 2,000 participants. Dancers, musicians, enormous floats, costumes that must weigh a tonne.

Each school takes about an hour to parade the full length of the Sambadrome, and every single second of that hour is choreographed, rehearsed, and performed with everything they’ve got.

It’s a spectacle on a scale I genuinely wasn’t prepared for.

Behind the scenes, it’s also a huge industry. Something like 30,000 people are employed each year just to build the floats, make the costumes and organise the logistics.

There’s a political side to it too. Lots of back-scratching, community ties, roots deep in the Favelas. It’s way more complex and significant than I’d imagined. This isn’t just a parade. It’s an identity, a pride, and a culture running through every beat of every drum.

My sister and I stayed at the Champions Parade all night. We didn’t leave until 7am. We watched every single school come through.

Were we tired? Absolutely. Would I do it again tomorrow? In a heartbeat.

The Favela Tour

This one’s harder to write about with a grin on my face.

We did a Favela tour with a registered guide, and I’d recommend it to anyone visiting Rio. Not for the spectacle of it. For the education.

It was confronting, heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time.

Standing in a community where people have built lives out of almost nothing, while the city gleams below them with wealth that never quite reaches up the hill. I find it so shameful in our world that so few have so much while so many have so little.

But Favelas are misunderstood. They’re not all drug dens and danger zones. Many are tight-knit communities with incredible spirit and resilience, and once again, the people you meet are warm and welcoming.

But the problems are real. Drugs, gangs, violence. It’s complicated and messy and there are no easy answers.

If you go, always go with a guide. Always be respectful. And buy some souvenirs from the local sellers while you’re there. That money goes directly into the community.

The Phone Snatching

So my article headline was flippant.

There are of course very real dangers in Rio and the whole of Brazil. But they’re far less violent for us tourists than many headlines would have us believe.

Most crime comes in the form of petty theft, bag grabbing, phone snatching and the very occassional armed robbery.

A woman had her phone snatched literally metres from us as we came out of a restaurant one lunchtime. She had it in her hand, out in front of her, and a motorbike just pulled up and grabbed it. Gone. Just like that.

It was fast and brazen. And it was a sharp reminder that petty theft and phone snatching are the biggest things to worry about in Rio.

Here’s my practical take on it. Use a small crossbody bag and keep your phone in your pocket or your bag when you’re walking. Don’t wave it around.

I have a clasp that secures my phone to my bag, so if someone grabs it, I’ll be going with it!

Also don’t flash expensive jewellery or cameras. Apparently gold is the big one. Don’t wear big gold necklaces or rings.

Keep your bag close. Stay aware, and basically, do what you’d do in any big city anywhere in the world, just maybe dial it up a notch.

I never once felt genuinely unsafe. Even in Lapa during Carnaval. I was always aware, and sensible (well maybe not so much after my morning bloco!). But I wasn’t afraid. And there’s a big difference between being cautious and being scared.

Barra de Tijuca: The Breather I Didn’t Know I Needed

After Carnaval, my sister flew home and I headed to Barra de Tijuca to wait for my husband to arrive.

After the chaos of Carnaval, it was exactly what I needed. A beautiful, chilled beach in a very safe, upmarket area. No chaos or smells. Just long stretches of sand, cold strawberry squiffy drinks, and nothing on the agenda (except my own work schedule).

If you’re looking for somewhere to decompress, I’d recommend staying at The Regency Barra Hotel. Mid-range pricing, right opposite the beach. Perfect.

I spent a very relaxed week there doing very little and loving every minute of it.

Round Two: A Completely Different City

When my husband arrived, we headed back into the city to do Rio all over again and based ourselves in Botafogo not far from downtown Rio.

And what a change!

The Carnaval chaos had disappeared. The streets were cleaned up. The smells were gone. Even Lapa had transformed. It was like someone pulled back the curtains and let the sun in properly for the first time.

The city was calmer, more chilled, and more touristy but in a good way.

Market stalls selling stuff other than glitter and alcohol appeared. There were fewer people, though still busy. But you could now actually see the architecture, the bay views, and the little details that get swallowed up during Carnaval madness.

It felt more community-based, less intense and easier to walk around.

Botafogo turned out to be a gorgeous base. We did Christ the Redeemer again (I’d already done a city tour as part of our tour group, but I wanted to see it all again with my husband).

But this time on the Corcovado Train, which is the oldest electric train in Brazil and genuinely fun. If you’re choosing between ways to get up there, take the train. Trust me.

We did Sugarloaf again too. The cable car is an experience in itself (one of the oldest cable car systems in the world) and the views over Copacabana from the top are ridiculous. Make sure to stop at Urca on the way, and have a wander. It’s worth it.

We jumped on the Hop on Hop Off bus, which I know sounds painfully touristy, but is actually a brilliant way to see the city. Get the open-top seats if you can, it’s way more fun. You can grab a cold beer and just watch Rio roll past you.

The best surprise though was a walk we did from Botafogo Beach to Flamengo Beach one morning. The views were absolutely stunning. Christ the Redeemer on one side, Sugarloaf on the other, the bay stretching out in front of you.

It’s one of those walks where you keep stopping to take photos and saying “oh come ON” to nobody in particular. 😂

Oh, and if you’re in Flamengo, watch the planes coming in to land. There’s an optical illusion from the beach that makes them look like they’re flying under the Sugarloaf cable car lines. It’s genuinely startling the first time you see it.

The Food Situation

You have to try a Churrascaria. I probably butchered the spelling there, but you’ll know it when you see it. It’s a huge salad buffet with freshly cooked meat carved and served right at your table. They just keep coming with different cuts until you physically cannot eat another bite. It’s an experience and the food is brilliant.

On the beach, grab a queijo stick from a street seller. Ask for oregano on top. Thank me later.

Try a Caipirinha at least once, because it’s the thing to do. It’s a local lime-based rum drink. It wasn’t for me at all, but I gave it a fair go.

The strawberry squiffy drinks though? Absolutely my thing. I may have had a few too many of those along Copacabana.

So Was I Right to Be Anxious?

Yes and no.

The anxiety wasn’t unreasonable. Rio has its issues, like any major city. Phone snatching is real. Petty theft happens. Some areas need more caution than others. I’m not going to pretend it’s all sunshine and samba.

But the fear I’d built up before going? The doom-scrolling, the warnings, the mental image of constant danger? That was wildly out of proportion.

Rio is vibrant, chaotic, beautiful, messy, warm, loud, proud, and absolutely full of life. The people are wonderful. The food is great, and the views will stop you in your tracks every single day. The culture runs deep and hits you in ways you don’t expect.

I walked around Copacabana, Ipanema, Flamengo, Botafogo, even Lapa without feeling uncomfortable. I stayed sensible. I stayed aware. But I also stayed open. And that made all the difference.

If you’re thinking about going and you’re nervous? Book a tour for the first few days. Get your bearings. Talk to the locals. Keep your valuables tucked away and your eyes open. And then just let Rio be Rio.

It’s a city that rewards the brave. And by brave, I don’t mean reckless. I mean willing. Willing to show up, push past the worry, and discover that most of the scary stuff lives on the internet, not on the streets.

Go. You’ll be glad you did.

A few of my favourite experiences in Rio, if you’re saving this for later:

During Carnaval:

• Stay all night at the Champions Parade.

• Dance your face off at a Bloco.

• Wander the streets and soak up the atmosphere (and the glitter)

• If you’re ok with super late nights and heat, you can even book to be a part of the parade! One of the girls on our tour did this and said it was a once in a lifetime experience.

Any time of year:

• Take the Corcovado Train to Christ the Redeemer.

• Cable car to Sugarloaf and stop at Urca.

• Catch the sunset from Arpoador Rock between Ipanema and Copacabana. Walk from Botafogo Beach to Flamengo Beach.

• Watch the Selaron Steps come alive (made famous by Snoop Dogg and Pharrell in ‘Beautiful’).

• Sail around Guanabara Bay.

• Visit a Favela with a registered guide.

• Visit the Museum of Tomorrow and walk around the outside first for views of the bay.

• Find the famous ‘Ethnicities’ mural by Kobra on Olympic Avenue (it was the largest graffiti mural in the world until he went and did a bigger one in São Paulo).

• Hop on the open-top bus tour with a cold drink.

• Spend a few lazy days in Barra de Tijuca.

• Eat at a Churrascaria.

• Try a queijo stick with oregano.

• Dance along Copacabana.

• Have fun & smile.

And please, whatever you do, don’t let the internet scare you out of one of the most incredible cities on the planet. 🥳😎🇧🇷💃🏻

After spending a fantastic day exploring the town of Pelourinho, Salvador yesterday, I started to reflect on how on earth I got here.

Not geographically. That bit’s easy. Flights, buses, multiple ubers. 😊

I mean here here. The bit where our daughter is completely ignoring me as she lives her own life in London (🙄), and my husband & I are fully nomadic.

Last week Rio, today Salvador, tomorrow Chapada Diamantina. Just two people, a couple of carry-ons, and a rough plan that’s started here in Brazil and winds through Colombia, Central America, Mexico, Canada, the Caribbean, potentially Hawaii for Christmas, and whatever comes after that.

It’s completely terrifying and amazingly brilliant in roughly equal measure.

Now, in the interest of full transparency, this isn’t my first rodeo. My husband & I packed up everything we owned & scooped up our then 4 year old, almost 16 years ago to head out into the great unknown. (Inspired, no less, by Tim Ferris and his 4 Hour Workweek).

We didn’t quite reach the echelons of full time nomadism, as we chose the traditional school path for our daughter, but we did live for 14+ years in Phuket, Thailand, and travelled extensively.

Plus, spurred on by Tim’s book, we started building online businesses to fund our lifestyle in 2010, and in 2020 we sold a 7 figure e-commerce business that gave us a comfortable enough cushion to go forth and travel.

But comfortable cushion or not, we don’t have Elon Musk money. Savings don’t last forever, we both love building things, and if technology keeps doing its thing we plan on being on this planet for a good while yet.

So here’s what I’m building right now to follow my passions, fund our travels, grow our long term wealth, and prove that you don’t need a lottery win to live like this.

1. The 50+ Nomad — The Big Picture

Everything I’m doing starts here. The 50+ Nomad is my personal brand, and it’s the thing I’m most passionate about building for the next 20+ years.

My goal is to share my life & experiences on the road as a 50+ nomad. To tell the deeper stories behind the places I visit, and inspire people like us in our 50s & beyond to age disgracefully while we explore the world and ourselves.

I’ll also share my current journey, and the lessons I’ve learned over 16 years, of how I fund my freedom with purpose-based projects and side hustles that keep our minds sharp and our wallets full, so we can do more, see more and give more.

Over time, that will look like a bank of content including articles, books, podcasts, featured pieces in travel publications, interviews with extraordinary people living extraordinary lives in their second act. Speaking. Writing. And a community of adventurers who refuse to believe the best of life is behind them.

That’s my north star. Here’s what’s already in motion.

Substack

This is home base. I love Substack right now. It feels like Facebook circa 2010, back when the internet was friendly, supportive and genuinely collaborative.

As a writer and storyteller, it suits me completely. I get to share my travels, my experiences, and what I’ve learned about building a life on your own terms, without drowning in tech, funnels, SEO and all the other paraphernalia that comes with traditional blogging.

Plus it’s the best tool on the market right now to build a community of email subscribers, which I believe are the lifeblood of an income generating online business.

My plan is to grow my free & my paid subscribers over the coming years, offering deeper insights into my nomadic lifestyle, travel experiences, business growth & more.

Over time, the paid subscription side will become a genuine income stream in its own right.

Books & Digital Products

I’m writing and publishing short, practical books on business, travel and lifestyle. Fun stuff that genuinely helps people chase their own version of this life.

Some of it will land on KDP, some on Audible (audio is wide open right now), and some sold directly to this community. Plus I’ve got a few travel-inspired picture books rattling around in my head that I’d love to bring to life.

I’m also running a small cohort this year of people who want to build their own freedom funding income. I’m just setting it all up on Skool as we speak and have moved all my digital courses over there.

I’ll be testing it with my cohort members and if it goes well will likely open it up as a stand alone community and offer it to paid subscribers. Watch this space! 😊

The Adventure List

This is a new idea my husband and I have been talking about since we started our nomadic adventures, and it’s still taking shape.

The simple version is this. As we travel, we keep discovering extraordinary experiences.

• Local guides who bring a place alive.

• Small cultural tours you’d never find on the usual booking sites.

• Food experiences, unusual expeditions, and adventures that take you a little deeper into a destination.

So I’m thinking of creating a dedicated section here on Substack where I share the very best of them.

I’m not talking about extreme sports or adrenaline junkie trips. These days I prefer adventures that mix curiosity, culture, and comfort. Travel that broadens the mind rather than just ticking boxes.

Think of it as a running list of the most interesting experiences we find around the world, filtered through the lens of travellers who love discovery but also appreciate a good bed at the end of the day.

And who knows, further down the road I may even host a few trips myself. But for now it’s simply about sharing the adventures that make travel feel bigger than a checklist.

2. This Big World — The E-commerce Arm

In January I launched This Big World, an e-commerce brand selling travel products, starting with a set of 50 scratch-off travel challenge cards. Adventure prompts designed to help people squeeze more out of their travels (or their own home town).

This Big World sits under the wider umbrella of what I’m building, but it’s a standalone brand by design. Partly because the products serve a much wider market than just the 50+ crowd (the gift market alone is huge), and partly because I want the option to sell it one day if I choose to.

I’ve done it before and it’s a smart way to build long term wealth.

But make no mistake, the products I create through This Big World will be built with my 50+ Nomad audience in mind. Travel challenge cards, solo or couples adventurer cards, destination and bucket list cards, journals, guides. (I’ve even had some ideas for stylish, secure cross body bags and I have a dream of designing the perfect rolling backpack!)

My long term goal will be to serve my 50+ Nomad community first, and the wider market naturally (even though it’s kind of started the opposite way round - more on this in a deeper post coming soon about starting an ecom biz).

It’s been a slow and steady start so far. 129 packs sold, consistent daily sales, and a load of promo strategies underway as we head towards summer.

The milestone is 100 sales a day by the end of this year. Fairly ambitious, but early signs are encouraging and I know from experience what it takes to get there.

Long term, I see This Big World as a 10+ year brand and an eventual exit. More products, more range, and a physical asset I’m building alongside everything else.

The Money Part

So how does all the above equal freedom funding income?

In a nutshell, multiple streams from the two brands.

From This Big World, the income is straightforward. Product sales. Every pack of travel challenge cards sold on Amazon puts money in the bank. As I expand the product range and scale the marketing, this grows.

And because it’s a standalone brand with physical assets (products, listings, reviews, supplier relationships), it’s also building long term value I could sell one day. It’s the e-commerce model I know inside out.

From The 50+ Nomad, the income builds in layers.

1. Paid Substack subscriptions are the foundation. A growing base of people paying a monthly or annual fee for deeper content, behind the scenes access, and community. It starts small, but it compounds. A thousand paid subscribers at a modest rate is a very real income.

2. Books and digital products add to that. A short book on KDP earns royalties every single month. An audiobook on Audible does the same. A digital guide sold directly to my community is almost pure profit. None of these are going to make me rich overnight, but stack a few together and they start to matter. And they keep earning long after you’ve created them.

3. The Skool community and courses are another layer. Right now I’m testing it with my cohort, but if it works the way I think it will, it becomes a recurring revenue stream in its own right.

4. The Adventure List could eventually earn through affiliate partnerships with the tours, guides and experiences I recommend, plus maybe even a few curated tours of our own. That’s further down the road, but the model is there.

And then there’s the longer game. As the audience grows and the brand becomes more established, bigger opportunities start to open up. Sponsorships. Brand partnerships. Speaking. Paid features and collaborations.

Please note, this is not a short term, overnight project. This is 10-20 years of consistent content, audience building, community growth, partnerships and more.

But that’s the model. One umbrella. Two brands. Multiple revenue streams. Some earning now, some building for the future. All working together.

You Don’t Need to Be Famous (But You Do Need an Audience)

Here’s the important part that matters most if you’re reading this and wondering whether any of it could work for you too.

There are broadly two ways to make money from what you know and who you are.

One end of the spectrum is the massive audience play. Millions of followers, book deals, brand sponsorships, speaking tours. The content becomes the product and the audience is so large that brands pay handsomely to be in front of it.

The other end is the small but mighty audience. A few thousand loyal, engaged people who trust you, and a suite of products, courses, and paid content that you sell directly to them. No fame required. Just genuine connection and something genuinely useful to offer.

Most people think you have to pick one or the other. I don’t think that’s true.

What I’m building is a mix. Start small. Build a loyal, engaged community. Sell products and experiences directly to people who trust you. And over time, as the audience grows and the brand gets known, the bigger opportunities start to show up.

You don’t need millions of followers to get started. You don’t need to go viral. You don’t need to be an influencer. You just need to start, build trust, and keep showing up, consistently, for as long as it takes.

The beautiful thing is that none of this requires permission.

• You don’t need a publisher to write a book.

• You don’t need a TV network to start a podcast.

• You don’t need a travel company to curate adventures.

• You don’t need a retailer to sell a product.

The tools and platforms are all there. The only thing missing is you deciding to do it.

So Where Do You Start?

If you’re sitting there thinking “this sounds great but I wouldn’t know where to begin,” here’s what I’d tell you:

1. Start with what you know. You’ve lived 50+ years. You have expertise, experiences, stories and opinions that other people would genuinely find valuable. Don’t overthink it. What do people always ask you about? What could you talk about for hours? Start there.

2. Pick one platform and show up. Substack, YouTube, a podcast, TikTok, whatever suits your style. Don’t try to be everywhere. Just pick one place and start creating. Consistently. Imperfectly. It doesn’t matter. Just start.

3. Build an audience before you build a product. This is the bit most people get backwards. They create something to sell and then wonder why nobody’s buying. Build the audience first. Give value first. The sales come later, and they come so much easier when people already know and trust you.

4. Think in layers. You don’t need to launch everything at once. Start with free content. Add a paid tier when you’ve earned it. Create a small digital product when your audience tells you what they need. Add more over time. Every layer builds on the last.

5. Play the long game. I didn’t build a 7 figure business overnight. I won’t build The 50+ Nomad or This Big World overnight either. But I will build it. Because I show up, I keep going, and I’m playing a game I love playing!

And that’s the secret, really. Find something you care about enough to stick with for years, not weeks. The money follows the commitment.

That's what The 50+ Nomad is for me. A brand that inspires and connects through content, community and shared adventures, with This Big World as the commerce arm selling physical products to a wider market.

Together they create a diversified income that funds our life, grows our savings, and doesn't depend on any single platform, algorithm, or stroke of luck.

And the best part? I’m doing it all from a café in Brazil.

Not bad for a Monday morning.

Want a step by step guide to growing on Substack? Read this post;

In this episode, I’m joined by naturopath, long-time nomad, and founder of Power Aging Women, Judy Seeger, who at 68 is living proof that strength, mobility, and energy don’t have to fade with age.

We talk honestly about the stuff many of us are quietly worried about — metabolic health, weight gain, hormones, sleep, brain health, fatigue, supplements, and how to stay well when you’re constantly on the move. It’s a grounded conversation about the small habits that help you stay strong, energised, and able to keep exploring the world.

If you want your next 10–20 years to feel strong, mobile, and free, this conversation will give you a lot to think about, and even more to do.

What You’ll Learn in This Episode

• Why movement and strength matter more than diet alone after 50, and why walking isn’t enough

• The link between muscle, oxygen, brain health, and mobility as we age

• Practical ways to stay strong, mobile, and energised while travelling

• How hormones, liver health, alcohol, and detoxing affect energy, weight, and migraines

• Simple, realistic strategies for sleep, jet lag, and recovery on the road

• Judy’s no-nonsense essentials for healthy aging: supplements, routines, and mindset

Key Takeaway

Healthy aging after 50 doesn’t require complicated routines or endless health rules. A few consistent habits make the biggest difference.

Move daily. Build strength. Eat simply and earlier. Sleep with intention. Support your body instead of fighting it. And most importantly, decide that you are worth prioritising in this season of life.

Time-Stamped Guide

• 00:00 Welcome + why this conversation matters for 50+ nomads

• 02:30 What “power aging” really means (and why Judy shifted from longevity)

• 04:30 Why fear of pain and discomfort holds women back from movement

• 06:10 Strength training on the road: resistance bands, routines, and mindset

• 08:30 The link between quad strength, oxygen, and brain health

• 10:30 What a naturopath actually does (and why lifestyle matters most)

• 13:00 Why inactivity is as damaging as smoking — and what to do instead

• 16:00 Food timing, metabolism, and eating for energy after 50

• 20:20 Hormones, alcohol, detoxing, and why the liver matters

• 23:30 Saunas, sweating, dry brushing, and toxin release

• 27:30 Migraines, circulation, and simple hot/cold techniques

• 31:00 Sleep routines, eye masks, light exposure, and nomad realities

• 35:40 Beating jet lag with food, sunlight, and timing

• 40:30 Minimal supplements for travellers (what’s essential, what’s not)

• 51:00 Mindset, community, and the promise women must make to themselves

Resources & Links Mentioned

• Power Aging Women — Judy’s platform, podcast, and programs
  👉

• Your Brain After 50: The Signals & Changes Women Shouldn't Ignore on Thursday,
  March 12th, 12pm EST (New York Time)

• Free guide: 7 Must-Haves for Healthy Aging

Join the Conversation

What’s one habit from this episode you’re willing to commit to this week — more movement, better sleep, eating earlier, or simply putting yourself first?

Share your takeaway in the comments and let’s keep this conversation going.

Important Health Disclaimer

This podcast episode is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as medical advice. The views shared are based on personal experience and professional background but should not replace consultation with your GP, specialist, or qualified healthcare provider. Always seek professional advice before making changes to your diet, exercise routine, supplements, or medical treatment, especially if you have existing health conditions or are taking prescribed medication.

There’s an Aperol Spritz on the table, a plate of chicken and broccoli rice in front of me, the Atlantic Ocean doing its thing on the beach, and my phone is propped up against the salt shaker while I send voice notes to friends back home.

3 weeks ago, I wouldn’t have believed this moment was possible. Not the being in Rio part, I’ve been planning that for months.

The sitting here on my own, feeling completely comfortable, completely safe, and completely at home part. That’s the bit that would have made me laugh.

Because as per my last post, I was pretty nervous knowing my dream was about to become reality.

20 Years in the Making

As I’ve said before, my husband and I have been waiting for this moment for almost 20 years. We always knew we wanted to live nomadically, location-free, exploring the world, and building businesses from wherever we happened to be.

But we also had a daughter to raise. And she came first. Always.

Fast forward to September last year, and our girl, now 19, headed off to music college in London. She’s working, studying, making friends, and living her best life. Which meant that after two decades of dreaming about it, my husband and I are now free to go and live ours.

So here I am. In Rio. 🥳 🇧🇷

I’ve just survived Carnival with my sister, and when I say survived, I mean it was an absolute riot!

Wild, colourful, loud, sweaty, and a full on assault on your senses. It was without doubt an unforgettable experience and I’m working on a post all about it (coming soon).

My sister flew home at the beginning of this week, and my husband arrives tomorrow (today now as I publish this) from Australia.

Then we’re heading up the coast of Brazil to potentially explore Lençóis Maranhenses, Jericoacoara, possibly Chapada Diamantina and Fernando de Noronha. After that? A few days in the Amazon, then Colombia, Costa Rica, and up to Mexico.

Just typing that out blows my mind that I’m actually doing it. Actually living it! 😳

The Uncomfortable Truth About Comfort Zones at 53

I’ve spent so long being excited about our nomadic dream that when it arrived and I was greeted with a substantial amount of fear and trepidation I was surprised.

I’m 53.

I am categorically more confident in some areas of my life than I was at 23. I give approximately zero figs what people think of me. I know who I am, I know what I want, and I’m long past the stage of performing for anyone.

But just prior to coming to Brazil I got super nervous. The kind of nervous that sits in your stomach at 3am and whispers things like ”Is this safe?” and ”What if something goes wrong?” and ”You’re not 25 anymore, you know.”

We assume that age, experience and the confidence that comes with it, is a blanket that covers everything. It’s not.

You can be utterly fearless in one area of your life and a trembling mess in another. Confidence isn’t universal, it’s specific. And when you step into unfamiliar territory, you’re essentially starting from scratch with your confidence in that particular area.

But the great news is that confidence is a muscle. And like any muscle, it grows every single time you use it.

What 2.5 Weeks in Brazil Has Taught Me About Expanding Your Life

I’ve been here for just over 2 weeks now, and I’ve already noticed a shift.

It’s not dramatic or transformational (yet), but I know that every small thing I’ve done that felt slightly outside my comfort zone has added a tiny bit of strength to that confidence muscle.

Walking to the shops on my own. Getting a taxi across the city. Navigating Carnival in Copacabana with thousands of people. Sitting in a restaurant solo, phone on the table, and feeling perfectly fine.

None of these things have been huge. But they‘ve been stacking up. And it’s the layering of experiences that’s the secret.

Here’s what I think is genuinely useful if you’re standing at the edge of your own comfort zone:

1. Motion creates motivation, not the other way around.

Sometimes we’re under the illusion that we need to feel motivated before we act. But it’s the opposite.

The more I move, the more I want to move. The more I explore, the more I want to explore.

If you’re waiting for motivation to show up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and a plan, you’ll be waiting forever. Just start. The motivation comes from action.

2. Your body is your vehicle, so look after it.

I’ve got arthritis in my knees. It’s not debilitating yet, but it’s there. I’ve lost quite a lot of weight over the last couple of years, and I’ve realised that my health and fitness need to be right at the top of the priority list from here on out. Not for vanity, but for capability.

I want to hike. I want to climb steps. I want to explore cities without having to sit down every ten minutes.

Taking care of your body isn’t a nice-to-have when you’re living this kind of life. It’s the whole foundation.

3. Start before you’re ready.

If I’d waited until I felt 100% comfortable with the idea of travelling through South America, I’d still be sitting on my sofa.

You will never feel fully ready. The readiness comes from the doing.

4. Every step makes the next one easier.

2 weeks ago, the idea of eating alone in a restaurant in Rio felt mildly terrifying. Tonight I did it without a second thought.

By the time I get to Colombia, I’ll probably be doing it with my eyes closed. (Metaphorically of course, I realise that I still need to be fully aware of my surroundings).

Each experience builds on the last, and before you know it, the thing that scared you has become the thing that defines you.

5. Ditch the extra baggage — literally and figuratively.

I’ve already dumped a load of stuff from my bags because they were too heavy. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but also it’s just practical advice: pack lighter than you think you need to.

Your future back will thank you.

Building the Life That Funds the Dream

None of this would be possible without the businesses we’ve built.

We started creating online businesses in 2010 and have had 15+ years of ups and downs. Years where we were absolutely skint and years where we did ridiculously well.

We’ve made money blogging, selling courses, coaching, you name it. We then built a seven-figure Amazon business, sold it in 2020, and invested carefully. But money doesn’t last forever, especially when your plan is to see as much of the world as possible before your knees give up entirely.

So I’m still building.

I’ve just launched This Big World, travel challenge cards for bold, curious, fun-loving travellers, and I’ve just hit my first 100 sales. It’s a small milestone, but it’s mine, and I’m proud of it.

I’m growing my audience on Substack. I’m creating content. I’m doing the work.

But for me it’s not just about funding travel, it’s also to keep my mind sharp, give me purpose, and in all honesty because I just love building businesses! 🥰

(Look out for a post on ‘How I’m Funding My Travels’ coming in the next few days!)

But Here’s the Best Part…

It’s always the people that make the place.

Brazilian people are absolutely gorgeous. Warm, welcoming, generous & kind. Same with the Argentinians and Chileans I’ve met along the way. Yes, there are some dodgier areas — downtown Lapa and parts of Copacabana can feel a bit sketchy after dark. But overwhelmingly, I’ve felt safe, comfortable, and welcomed.

Oh, and one more thing. They have these little canned strawberry drinks over here. About £1.25 a can, 7.9% volume. A couple of those and you feel bold as a badger. Highly recommended for those moments when you need a small nudge past the comfort zone boundary.

I’m joking. Mostly. 😉

The point is this: I’m in my 50s, I’ve got dodgy knees, big goals, and a backpack that’s still too heavy. But I am truly living my dream. ❤️

If you’ve been waiting for the right moment, the right age, or the right level of confidence, I urge you to start chasing your dreams today with every bone in your body. Because as Oprah so wisely said;

Today is my last day in this lovely little apartment on the outskirts of London that I’ve called home for the last few weeks.

When I get up shortly, it’ll be the last time gorgeous little Nala (the Shih Tzu we’ve been looking after) will leap onto my bed and lick my nose.

And last Thursday, before she went off to Paris to celebrate a friend’s 21st, was the last time I hugged my 19-year-old daughter for the next few months.

Tomorrow I leave for Brazil.

Over the next couple of weeks my sister and I will party like it’s 1999 at the Rio Carnival, and towards the end of Feb my husband will join me and we’ll start our great backpacking adventure across South America and Canada.

We have no home, no fixed abode, and no fixed plans. Just a 10kg backpack, the clothes we’re wearing, and a dream to travel the world.

Sounds idealistic right? (Or completely barking mad!)

So Why Am I Not More Excited?…

Why, instead of lying here buzzing with anticipation, am I staring at the ceiling with my heart thumping through my chest while my brain runs through every worst-case scenario it can find?

• Maybe it’s the raging menopausal anxiety. (I’m 53, not 23 after all.)

• Maybe it’s the brand new business and product I’ve just launched on Amazon and a to-do list as long as your arm.

• Maybe it’s leaving my 19-year-old daughter in London. (To pursue her dreams no less, but still…)

• Maybe it’s the arthritis in my knees and the fact I don’t quite have the energy I had in my twenties.

• Or maybe it’s because Brazil (and South America) is a complete unknown. After 13+ years in Asia, living in possibly one of the safest countries on the planet, this continent comes with tales of violent crime, muggings, and theft that make London look like a village fête.

Of course, it’s all of the above and more, so my 3am brain? Totally warranted.

The Moment Your Dream Becomes Reality

This is always the moment though.

Right before (or as) your dreams become reality. Right before the thing you’ve been planning and plotting and daydreaming about actually happens.

Because until this moment, it all lives safely in your head. It’s a fantasy. A hazy daydream with pink cloud filters and a string quartet.

If you’ve been following my journey, you’ll know that in January I launched my Travel Challenge Cards on Amazon. Right up until the moment they went live I was in full excitement mode. “These are brilliant, everyone will love them, they’ll fly off the shelves!”

Then launch day hit. I was in tears. What have I done, I cried? Why would anyone buy these? Everyone’s going to laugh at me.

Dream. Reality. Boom.

It’s like the dream keeps you afloat, and then reality throws you to the ground with a thud.

But I have great news!

The fear is temporary.

Tomorrow night I’ll be boots on the ground in Rio. And I already know what happens next because it happens every time.

I’ll step off the plane, hit the warm air, hear a language I don’t understand, see a city I’ve never been to, and all my senses will start to fire.

New place. New culture. New food. New people. New sights. New everything.

All of a sudden I’m learning, experiencing, adapting and immersing myself in my surroundings. The fear will fall away and be replaced with wonder, curiosity and excitement.

(Much like the cards by the way, which have had a super solid start. 90+ sold, 3 x 5-star reviews, and my pre-launch excitement and confidence has come flooding back!)

20 Seconds of Insane Courage

So why does fear hold so many of us back when it’s so fleeting?

One of my favourite quotes is from the film We Bought a Zoo. Matt Damon sits with his on-screen son and says

“You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.”

That’s what I mean by fleeting.

One taxi ride to the airport. One plane ride to Rio. That’s all it takes and my fear will fade away.

One promotion. One post to launch my cards and get my first sale. Fear gone.

So what’s your 20 seconds of insane courage? What’s the thing you’d do if you stopped letting your fear get in the way?

Is it:

• Publishing your first post?

• Sending a pitch?

• Launching your product?

Or maybe it’s:

• Booking the flights

• Having a conversation you’ve been avoiding

• Or even uprooting your entire life and backpacking across the world with no fixed plan. (Hmmm 🤔)

Whatever it is, please know your fear is real and valid, no matter how small the task at hand.

Fear stops us doing something genuinely stupid or dangerous. It’s like an invisible safety net that gives us just enough pause to make sure we’re not putting ourselves in harm’s way.

But we have to be emotionally intelligent enough to recognise when fear has done its job and is now just holding us back. When it’s no longer protecting us but preventing us.

It’s down to us to instinctively know when we need to move forward anyway, in spite of it.

Because What’s the Alternative?

And so of course I will get on that plane tomorrow. I will lug my far too heavy backpack to the hotel in Rio, and I will immerse myself in the carnival and our backpacking adventure, all while navigating work commitments, dodgy knees and FaceTiming my daughter as often as she’ll allow. (I suspect not very often! 😂)

Because what’s the alternative?

What happens if we don’t chase our dreams and instead only let them live as movies in our head?

Let me tell you. Nothing happens.

This year becomes next year, and the year after, and the year after.

And without trying to bring the room down too much, we age, we shrink, and we become the number one regret of the dying, as palliative care nurse Bronnie Ware recorded:

“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me. This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.”

Confidence Comes From Doing

So what choices have you not made that you know are ready to be made?

You’re here reading this, thinking about your life, so I already know you’re ready for action.

And that right there is the secret.

Action.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, confidence comes after action not before.

We are braver than we realise or ever admit, and we can do so much more than we think we can.

Think of every challenge you’ve faced in life to date. Divorce, job loss, health scares, financial disasters, heartbreak, failure. You’re still here. Still living. Still growing. Still doing the things.

Yes, danger lurks. Yes, we need to be mindful and aware of our surroundings, but life is short and the world is wide.

Whatever you’re scared of, go do it.

There are no wrong choices. Only different paths. And most of us reading this are in the extraordinarily privileged position of being able to choose our path.

Not everyone gets that. So why waste it playing small?

As for me, this time tomorrow I’ll be on a plane to Rio, backpack in the overhead locker, no firm plans beyond showing up for Carnival.

Wish me luck.

Jo 😘

Oh and go and buy yourself a set of my Travel Challenge Cards. Want to push yourself out of your comfort zone starting this weekend in your home town? Start with a fun set of cards to nudge you to action! 😊 (see what I did there 😉)

I’ve been blown away with the depth of experience people have. The creativity, talent, ideas and products already created waiting to be presented to the world!

Almost everyone I’ve spoken to is sitting on a super successful business waiting to happen.

But across all my calls, there is one thing that’s really stood out, and that’s the lack of understanding (and action) around building an audience.

The most important part of growing your online business seems to be the very thing most people shy away from and yet it’s the very foundation upon which your success will be built.

Let me give you an example.

Imagine you open a beautiful shop. You’ve sourced the perfect products, designed the space with care, priced everything thoughtfully, but you’ve built it on a Welsh mountainside, where 5 people walk past each year (if you’re lucky).

It doesn’t matter how good the product is. It doesn’t matter how talented you are. If no one knows you exist, the chances that you make any sales at all are extremely slim.

Now imagine you open that same shop in Times Square. Same products, same owner, same quality, but thousands of people popping in to have a look!

Audience building isn’t a marketing “extra,” or a nice to do. It’s the difference between being invisible and being viable.

What An Audience Actually Is

I know you know this, but it’s worth repeating as so many people get caught up in followers or ‘likes’.

An audience is a group of people who:

• Recognise you

• Hear from you repeatedly

• And have given you permission to stay in their world

Read that last bullet again.

An audience isn’t one-off buyers. It isn’t a viral post that disappears by Thursday, or followers who scrolled past once and forgot you existed.

An audience is made up of people who are saving your posts, sharing your stuff with people they know, commenting repeatedly, bookmarking your content, and most importantly have exchanged their email address to get your information directly to their inbox.

An audience is built through repetition, familiarity, and trust, and unfortunately there are very few shortcuts.

So here are the 4 main routes to building an audience and how to use them to grow yours.

The 4 Routes to Building an Audience

1. Organic content (earned attention)

This is the route most of us are following, and is actually by far the best route to growing a trusted and engaged audience.

Unfortunately it’s also the route that takes the longest, and requires the commitment and tenacity to keep going even when you think no one is listening, plus consistency with no guarantee of results.

The flow:

Content → attention → familiarity → trust → permission

Where it shows up:

• Writing (Substack, blogs, Medium)

• Social content

• Podcasting / YouTube

• Anywhere you can publish content and attract subscribers

How it works:

You show up consistently with something that’s entertaining, educational, informative or useful. Over time, people choose to stay.

Pros/Cons:

The upside is that you build real relationships with people who genuinely want to hear from you. Trust compounds quietly over time. You control the message, the tone, the direction, and no one can take it away from you.

The downside is that it takes time, patience, and emotional energy. You have to keep going even when it feels like you’re posting into the void and this is the part where most people give up.

However, if you can push through that tough silent part, this route is the foundation to all the other routes listed below.

How to do it:

1. Pick one platform that plays to your strengths (writing? video? audio?)

2. Commit to a consistent publishing schedule - weekly minimum & what the platform requires (example Substack daily notes)

3. Focus on solving problems your audience actually has - (Hot tip - write out their top 30 questions and set about answering them!)

4. Always include a call to action that drives people to your email list (Substack makes this easy)

This route strongly favours people with experience, perspective, and something real to say, which is exactly what most of us over 50 have in spades.

2. Paid traffic (rented attention)

This is the route where you pay to appear in front of people, essentially buying visibility instead of earning it.

It’s tempting because it’s fast. You can put your offer in front of thousands of people today if you have the budget.

But it comes with a catch. The moment you stop spending, the attention stops too. So unless you’re converting that traffic into email subscribers, you’re paying to fill a leaky bucket.

The flow:

Money → visibility → click

Where it shows up:

• Meta ads

• Google ads

• YouTube ads

• Newsletter sponsorships

How it works:

You pay to get your content, lead magnet, or offer in front of people who don’t know you yet. They click, and if you’ve set things up right, they join your email list or buy your stuff.

Pros/Cons:

The upside is speed & predictability. Once you’ve dialled in what works, you know roughly what you’ll get for what you spend. You’re also in control of the pace. No waiting around hoping an algorithm notices you.

The downside is that costs rise over time as more people compete for the same eyeballs. And you’re always renting, never owning. The audience belongs to Meta or Google until they’re on your email list.

Paid traffic builds visits. It only becomes an audience if you convert that attention into email subscribers or customers.

How to do it:

1. Get your email funnel working first (lead magnet, welcome sequence), no point paying for traffic with nowhere to send it

2. Start small, test with £10-20/day

3. Track everything, cost per lead, cost per click, cost per sale

4. Scale what works, cut what doesn’t

Think of paid traffic as a lever, not a foundation. It can accelerate growth once you’ve got the basics in place, but it won’t build the relationships for you.

3. Platform-led discovery (built-in demand)

This is where the platform introduces you to people. You’re not building the audience from scratch, you’re tapping into demand that already exists.

It’s appealing because the hard work of attracting buyers has already been done. People are on Amazon ready to buy, on Etsy looking for gifts, on Substack hunting for new writers to follow. You just need to show up where they’re already looking.

The flow:

Platform demand → exposure → partial relationship

Where it shows up:

• Amazon (books, products)

• Etsy

• Other marketplaces

• Substack recommendations

• App stores

• SEO (Google decides who to show - you can influence it, but you never control it)

How it works:

You create a product, listing, or piece of content, and the platform’s algorithm decides whether to show it to people. Get it right and you can reach thousands of buyers without spending a penny on ads.

Pros/Cons:

The upside is that buyers are already in motion. There’s built-in demand, faster feedback, and in some cases lower upfront effort than building everything yourself.

The downside is that you have no control. Rules change. Algorithms shift. Income and reach can vanish overnight with no warning and no explanation. I’ve seen it happen and experienced it myself: accounts suspended, listings buried, years of work wiped out.

How to do it:

1. Learn the platform’s rules inside out

2. Optimise your listings/content for their algorithm

3. Build your own email list alongside - this is critical*

4. Treat it as an entry point, not a long-term home

You don’t own this audience. You borrow it - briefly.

*NB: This is why I love Substack so much. It's the first platform I've seen that genuinely merges Route 1 with Route 3. You're creating organic content and building real relationships, but the platform is also actively helping people discover you through recommendations and the network.

And unlike every other platform in this category, your subscribers are your email list. You're not borrowing the audience , you're building it and owning it at the same time. That's a game changer.

4. Collaborations & partnerships (borrowed trust)

This is the most misunderstood, and underused, route.

Instead of building an audience from scratch or paying to reach one, you tap into someone else’s. They introduce you to their people, and because their audience already trusts them, some of that trust transfers to you.

It’s a shortcut to credibility, but only if you do it right.

The flow:

Someone else’s audience → endorsement → accelerated trust

Where it shows up:

• Guest newsletters

• Podcast interviews

• Joint workshops

• Affiliate partnerships

• Email swaps

• Bundles

How it works:

Someone with an established audience shares you with their people, through an interview, a recommendation, a collaboration. Their endorsement does the heavy lifting. You skip the “who is this person?” phase entirely and land in front of people who are already warmed up.

But it goes deeper than just getting featured. True partnerships happen when you have the product and they have the audience, and you build something together. Shared upside, shared incentive.

Pros/Cons:

The upside is that leads are warmer from the start. No ad spend required. And it works even when your own audience is tiny because you’re leveraging theirs.

The downside is that it requires genuine alignment and clarity about what you’re offering. It also doesn’t scale endlessly. Each partnership takes real time and energy to build and maintain.

How to do it:

1. Make a list of 10-20 people whose audience overlaps with yours

2. Engage with their content genuinely first - don’t pitch cold

3. Offer value before asking for anything

4. Propose something that benefits them, not just you

5. Start small with a quote swap, a newsletter mention, or a joint live

This route strongly favours people with experience, credibility, and good judgement. People who know how to build real relationships.

That’s a genuine edge at this stage of life.

AI is About to Change Everything

As we all know, (as it’s being shoved down our throats everyday), we’re at the start of a massive shift.

AI is going to disrupt how content gets made, how businesses operate, and how people find information online. I haven’t got my crystal ball out when I say that, it’s already happening.

But rather than be anxious about it, you can use this to your advantage in two distinct ways:

1. First, as a tool. AI can help you produce more, clarify your thinking, repurpose your ideas across platforms, and stay consistent even when life gets busy. It lowers the barrier to getting started and keeps the barrier low once you’re going.

   If you’ve ever stared at a blank page wondering what to write, AI can get you unstuck. If you’ve got a great newsletter but no time to turn it into social posts, AI can do that in minutes.

But the second advantage is more interesting.

2. As AI floods the internet with generic content, authenticity becomes rarer. And rarer means more valuable. The same technology that makes it easier for anyone to produce content also makes it harder for that content to stand out.

   Most of what AI creates is average by definition, trained on the middle of everything. Your lived experience isn’t average. Your perspective isn’t generic. Your voice, developed over decades, can’t be replicated by a prompt.

   In a world filling up with AI-generated noise, real human connection becomes the thing people are actively searching for. They want to feel like someone actually understands their situation. They want familiar voices, smaller communities, trusted guides.

And that’s the real opportunity. AI helps you show up. Your humanity is what makes people stay.

Start With the Foundations

You have ideas. You have experience. You know how to help people. Maybe, like so many of my cohort members, you’ve already got products ready to go.

But you can’t sell to an empty room.

It doesn’t matter how good your offer is. It doesn’t matter how much you know or how many years you’ve spent honing your craft. Without an audience, you’re standing on that Welsh mountainside waiting for customers who’ll never come.

The foundation of your online business is your audience. Start there.

1. Pick one platform that plays to your strengths and commit to it.

2. Show up consistently, even when it feels like no one’s watching.

3. Engage with the people who do show up. Build relationships.

4. Pay attention to what your audience is actively clicking on, engaging with, and asking questions around.

5. Stick with it for longer than feels comfortable!

If you want to supplement with ads later, fine. If you want to pursue partnerships, great. But get the basics right first. Grow your email list, create content that solves real problems, and let people get to know you.

And make patience your greatest virtue. This is going to take time. There are no shortcuts to trust.

But please trust me. Build the audience. Everything else will follow.