THE SOLO TRAVELLER
Your world. Your way.
Slow travel
Hugo Mathieu overlooking Medellín, Colombia, during his travels through South America. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
The freedom to stay
A Q&A with Hugo Mathieu
Briefly …
Travelling slowly means accepting that some places will remain unseen. For Hugo Mathieu, extended stays in South America revealed what becomes possible when the pressure to keep moving gives way to time for friendships, familiar routines and unexpected experiences.
For much of his journey through Southeast Asia and Latin America, Hugo Mathieu travelled at a pace familiar to many independent travellers. A few days in one destination, a night bus to the next, another collection of experiences and photographs before moving on. The constant movement was exhilarating, but eventually he began to question what he was missing by leaving so quickly.
That question took on new meaning when he spent more than a month volunteering with Sustainable Bolivia at the Aquicuana Reserve in the Bolivian Amazon. Working alongside researchers and fellow volunteers, and spending time with the local community, he discovered how familiarity, shared routines and unhurried days could change the experience of travelling alone.
In our Q&A, Hugo generously shares how slowing down reshaped his priorities, his relationships and his plans for the journeys still ahead.
Travelling by boat through the waterways of the Bolivian Amazon. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
You travelled solo through South America but chose to spend more than a month volunteering in one place. What prompted you to interrupt your travels, and was slowing down always part of your plan?
Slowing down wasn’t really part of my original plan – it became one gradually. I started a big trip through Southeast Asia and Latin America in 2024, and for the first few months I was constantly on the move. I would usually spend three or four days in one place: arrive, unpack my backpack, explore the town or head off on an adventure, then repack everything and take another night bus, train or flight. It was exhausting, but also absolutely magical. Little by little, though, I began to find a better balance. I started staying somewhere for a week or two, exploring the surrounding area, then combining that with a few shorter stops. I was already travelling more slowly than at the beginning, but I still hadn’t truly settled anywhere.
After Peru, where I did several incredible treks and packed in a lot of adventure, I arrived in La Paz feeling tired and very cold. I had wanted to volunteer somewhere for a long time, but that idea had slowly slipped into the background. Then, in Peru, I met a traveller who told me about her volunteering experiences in Bolivia and Costa Rica. Her story stayed with me. I thought: instead of continuing to see places as a visitor, why not stay somewhere, work with local people and experience the country in a completely different way?
When I reached La Paz, I started looking through volunteering platforms and found a project that seemed perfect for me. The project supported education for children in an Amazonian village and contributed to scientific research in the Aquicuana Reserve, a protected area of the Bolivian Amazon. As a travel blogger, I take photos and videos, and this organisation needed help promoting its work. I wanted to visit the Amazon, but this gave me the chance to do much more than visit, to be part of a place, even for a short time. That is what made me stop moving for more than a month. Without the intention to ‘visit’ anything, but to work and ‘live’ somewhere.
Children on a village road in the Bolivian Amazon, where Hugo spent time supporting local education. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
Children taking part in an educational activity during Hugo’s volunteering experience in the Bolivian Amazon. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
Travelling slowly means giving up some of the places and experiences you might otherwise fit into a trip. Did you ever feel you were missing out, or did your priorities begin to change?
Yes, travelling slowly means seeing fewer places, especially if you measure a trip by the number of cities or countries you visit. But I began to realise that staying longer in one place gave me access to a completely different layer of travel. In the first few days somewhere, you usually see the famous sights and tick off the main attractions. After that, you start discovering the local side of a place – the neighbourhoods, markets, cafés and routines that may not be spectacular for photos but tell you much more about how people actually live. That is what I enjoy most.
I have loved living for a month in Rio de Janeiro, and I also spent a month in Bangkok, which was fascinating but almost too big and overwhelming for me. My month in the Bolivian Amazon was different again: there were very few tourist attractions, but endless nature to explore. Some visitors came for two or three days and left without seeing monkeys, while I was lucky enough to see them after spending three weeks in the area. When you stay longer, you put the odds in your favour. Rare moments often appear only after the days start to feel familiar.
I do sometimes feel the pull to see as much as possible. When I have not travelled for a while, I want to move quickly, spend three days here and three days there, and photograph and film everything. But once that initial burst of adrenaline fades, I usually want to slow down, settle somewhere and live a little more like a local. Every place has its own rhythm, and staying long enough to feel that rhythm has become one of the things I value most about travel.
A blue-and-yellow macaw, one of the striking bird species found in the Amazon. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
You’ve mentioned the connections you made with local people and fellow volunteers. How did staying in one place change the way those relationships developed compared with the encounters you had while moving between destinations?
For me, the difference was huge. When I am moving quickly, I often stay in private rooms rather than hostels. I am 30, I work while I travel, and I carry camera and computer equipment, so dorms are not always practical. That can make it harder to meet people. You can still meet travellers at events or through activities, but those encounters are often limited to one evening or a few days. The strongest connections came when I met other people who were also travelling slowly. In Colombia, I lived in a co-living space for a month with other digital nomads. Everyone had their own work and their own routine during the day, but in the evenings we would go for a drink, take a cumbia class, play games or simply talk. Because we were all there for a while, those shared moments became part of a real friendship rather than a one-off encounter.
The volunteering project in Bolivia was exceptional in that sense. We were based outside the town, with a research house, dorms, a kitchen and forest trails around us. We cooked together, ate together, washed up together, played cards and told stories in the evenings. Living alongside the other volunteers created a closeness I had not felt for a long time.
With local people, staying longer also changes everything. People are often welcoming, curious and generous wherever you go, but when they know you are only passing through, relationships can remain brief and intense. When you stay for a month, you have time to see people again, share different activities and gradually get to know them. Human relationships build through repetition: seeing the same faces, sharing meals, helping with a project, laughing about the same things.
I still have connections with the people I worked and lived with in Bolivia, as well as people I met during longer stays in Colombia and Bangkok. Slowing down did not just give me more time in a place, it gave relationships time to grow.
An aerial view of a small riverside settlement surrounded by dense Amazonian forest. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
Without the constant anticipation of another destination, did you find yourself paying attention to different things? Were there experiences or moments that became important precisely because you had time for them?
It changed everything. When you have time in front of you, you stop thinking about the next destination, the next hotel to book or everything you need to fit into your calendar. Instead of trying not to miss anything, you can simply be where you are. That gave me time to live more like a local. I could wake up slowly, walk through the neighbourhood, have a coffee where locals were having coffee, go to the beach if that was part of everyday life, or read a book without feeling that I was wasting precious sightseeing time. It sounds simple, but it is one of the best parts of travelling slowly.
Tropical forest and palms reflected in the still waters of the Bolivian Amazon. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
Staying longer also changed the way I approached sightseeing. Instead of treating a place as a checklist, this photo, this viewpoint, this activity, then move on, I began to think in terms of experiences. I could go somewhere without needing it to be perfect or productive. If one day did not go well, there was always tomorrow. That mindset is much easier when you are living in a city for a month rather than passing through it in three days.
My favourite example comes from my month volunteering in the Bolivian Amazon. After an early morning work session, when the air was still cool, we would have coffee in a hammock. In the evening, some of us would walk to the lake and watch the sunset from the pontoon. Those small rituals became some of my strongest memories. Every sunset was different because the clouds were different, and because we had time to sit, talk and listen to the sounds around us. They were not planned highlights or tourist attractions – they became special simply because I had the time to notice them.
A lakeside pontoon and hammocks offer a place to unwind near the Aquicuana Reserve. Photographer: Hugo Mathieu | HorizonHugo.
Has your experience in Bolivia changed what you want from solo travel, and would you choose to travel this way again?
Yes, absolutely. I had not stayed in one place for a month for a long time, and I had never spent a full month volunteering while travelling. It was a welcome change from constantly thinking about what I needed to visit next. Instead of focusing on ticking off attractions, I was there to help an organisation, support a local project and discover the Amazon in a much deeper way. It reminded me that there is not just one way to travel. You can move quickly and see many places, or you can stay somewhere for two weeks, a month or longer and get to know it properly. In Bolivia, I stepped back from the habit of always taking photos and videos, always planning the next stop and always trying not to miss anything. I could simply be part of a place for a while, and that did me a lot of good.
I would definitely choose to travel this way again. I want more experiences where I can immerse myself in a community, live closer to local people and understand a culture from the inside rather than only observing it. Volunteering lets you contribute something, even in a small way, while still discovering a new environment and way of life.
My next big trip will be a motorcycle journey through South America. In some ways, it will combine slow and fast travel: I will be able to cover long distances but also choose my own route and stop wherever I want. Rather than following the usual backpacker trail shaped by bus routes and flights, I want to reach smaller, more remote towns and see another side of the continent. After travelling by bus for so long, I am curious to have that freedom, to go where I want, stay as long as I want, and keep leaving space for the kind of slow, immersive experiences I discovered in Bolivia.
For more of Hugo’s travels and adventures, visit Horizon Hugo.
24 October 2026 at 1:32:04 pm