“Finito.”

Leonardo beams as he hands me a yellow slip. It flutters in the lazy breeze of the rooftop fan.

“Estas seguro?” I reply with doubt.

“Si, no hay problema.”

I look at the sheet. I don’t understand the writing, but it has my face on it. I glance around the room. It looks like someone’s house, but I’ve just given my fingerprints, so I think it’s an office. It’s my final stop after 3 hours of visiting immigration and Interpol, nodding and signing when and where I am told.

“Bien.” I say, shaking his hand.

I step onto the street. The sun’s shining, and Latino music is playing in the distance.

I chuckle.

I am officially a resident of Paraguay.

You might be wondering how the hell I ended up here.

Yo también.

Or ‘me too’ for my English-speaking amigos.

Let me run you through it.

My friends have been suggesting I move my business from the UK for years now. But it felt like a distraction from the bigger mission of writing. I want fewer headaches, not more.

But after a ballbusting tax bill last year despite barely being in the country, I decided to shop around.

I met with a few specialist accountants.

The main suggestion was Dubai.

I don’t mind it there. It’s nice to visit and safe to live in. But let’s not mess around: it’s a concrete jungle in a desert. I want green mountains. And I don’t want to get sucked into the flashy lifestyle. But most importantly, the tax process there means you (normally) stay for 4-6 months a year.

I built an online business to have the freedom to do what I want.

I knew the obligation would drive me nuts.

So I parked my plans until Paraguay snuck onto my radar.

The Paraguay Plan

When I first heard of Paraguay as an option, I scoffed.

It didn’t exactly scream safety.

But the more I researched, the more intrigued I became.

Now, do not consider this financial advice. In fact, you should take a good look at yourself if you take financial advice from any internet marketing bro. But here’s how it works. If you ‘leave’ the UK, open an American business account, but become a resident of Paraguay, you use Paraguay’s tax system, which is 0% on foreign income.

The best part?

You only need to visit the country one day per year to renew residency.

That’s my kinda freedom.

The downside is that I can’t stay in the UK for more than 90 days per year. I thought this would be tough, but two months in South America destroyed that doubt. I love it here—I just need to persuade my mum to fly over the pond (I know you’re reading this, the empanadas are great).

And look, I spent months overthinking this decision.

My primary fear was that my bank would be Paraguayan. But the American thing sorted that out. Plus, it’s easy to reverse. If I get homesick, I go back and set up another business. I plan to travel the world for a few years anyway. I figured I could reinvest any savings into advancing my mission as a writer.

But honestly, tax wasn’t the primary driver. I am just fascinated by the cool shit you can do in the world. So I figured, why not? It’ll make a good story.

I’ve now got two passports and a little paper yellow slip.

Let’s go.

So what is Paraguay like (and what’s in it for them)?

When I landed in the capital, Asuncion, I thought I had made a terrible mistake.

I like busy cities. Nothing in my neighbourhood was open. But turns out it was just a public holiday. I quickly began to warm to Paraguay. Sure it’s not like Barcelona or London, but the people are great. They’re friendly, relaxed, and there’s an air of energy of a country on the rise—their economy is one of the few that is growing.

The restaurants are good, the Internet was perfect, and the gyms were great. The city centre is very safe (I had zero fear walking around, taking video calls). Few people speak English, which was fantastic for learning Spanish, although hell when I arrived. And my dates were kind enough to take pity on me as I discovered Duolingo does not prepare you for the real world.

And of course, the prices are great.

I stayed for 7 weeks. In hindsight, I probably could’ve stayed shorter. But I made a good friend, and it was the perfect place to focus on my book. I didn’t see much of the country except Asuncion and a lakeside town called San Bernadino.

I left happy knowing it’s a country I can call ‘home’.

Of course, I don’t want to pull wool over your eyes. There are downsides. Their main ‘tourist’ attraction is three shopping malls. I hate shopping malls. I spent more time under glaring white lights being bombarded by marketing in 2 months than I had in my entire life.

The neighbourhoods are safe, but there’s not much green, so the walking was average. And there’s a certain chaos that comes with Latin America. You have to accept that many things don’t work as they should, everything is slower, and goddamn—everyone runs late.

But Paraguay has its own charm.

Every nomad I met felt positively toward the country despite initial apprehension, so I can see how their resident scheme works. It’s like building any brand: they are using word-of-mouth marketing by creating fans. Paraguay is putting itself on the radar by showing they are open to business—the opposite approach to the UK.

My writing this email is one example.

What’s next

To wrap up the first leg of my trip, I visited the border of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina. I went clubbing in Brazil for one night, which was exactly as I imagined: chaos. I nursed my Caipirinha-induced hangover with nature’s ultimate cold shower at Iguazu Falls, then hopped over the border to Argentina.

Now I’m in Buenos Aires until January. I love it here. If you’re a food fan, you will too. After, I am keeping my plans loose. Although Patagonia looks like the most beautiful place in the world, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I spent a month in the mountains.

But while I’d love to see more of South America, one downside to nomading is that you feel a little lonely and unsettled. So I’m considering a ‘detour’ to Cape Town, where I have friends and family.

I’ll share more about my nomad experience as I go. There are a few challenges that I don’t see discussed. For one, it forces you to work on the highest leverage stuff. There’s too much of life to experience—you don’t want to be plonked in front of the laptop 24/7. This has been great for streamlining my business, and I have some good content coming on this (especially on YouTube—if you haven’t subscribed yet, you can here.)

I’ll wrap up with this:

When I was a dentist, I thought one of the most badass ways to live would be travelling South America, learning Spanish, saying yes to random shit, and writing books as you go.

Now that I’m doing it, I can confirm:

It is a whole load’a fun.

Freedom is worth the work.

Adios,

Kieran