Monica Humphries/Insider tips

In the weeks leading up to my first solo road trip, I called up a handful of experienced nomads and sought out their advice.

Within one year, I embarked on two of the longest flights of my life.

Last summer, I stepped outside my dew-covered tent in Bryce Canyon National Park after a night of tossing and turning.

I never knew two weeks could be filled with such highs and lows.

I propped open my apartment door and lugged in about eight bags.

I barreled down New Mexico State Road 150 in a Ram ProMaster.

I spotted Colorado's Flatirons before I caught a glimpse of the St Julien Hotel & Spa, my hotel for the night.

Capsule hotels fascinate me. As a traveler, they combine both my biggest desires and largest fears.

Japan is a magical place. It's a country where you can roam futuristic neighborhoods one minute and walk down streets that feel like stepping back in time the next.

New York City always felt like a temporary home.

Before arriving in Japan, a warm toilet seat evoked a full-body cringe. The heated plastic was a clear indicator that someone not so long ago had used the toilet. 

I took a deep breath and stepped into the Italian restaurant Amano in Auckland, New Zealand.

Picking a seat for a long-haul flight is daunting.

As bellhops grabbed my bags, a valet driver swiped my car keys, and a receptionist handed me a key to my room at The Little Nell, a five-star hotel in Aspen, Colorado, I was already feeling the pressure of time.

When it comes to flying, jeans are an absolute no for me, I wouldn't consider wearing shorts, and even leggings aren't my go-to clothing choice when I'm on a plane. 

Paul Strug doesn't usually wear his Apple watch to bed, but he told Insider that the night before his son was scheduled to fly home from Japan, he put it on just in case something came up and his son needed him.

From applying and getting hired to working on 12-plus-hour flights, many elements of a flight attendant's and pilot's jobs are elusive.

Traveling to faraway destinations is a dream. Getting there is not. 

I felt an instant pang of regret on my most recent Target shopping spree. 

I've had the luxury of sitting underneath glass-dome windows as my Rocky Mountaineer train barreled between Colorado's mountains.

The car was dead silent, and I felt panic set in among my group of friends.