One lesson from ten years of travel? Small and mid-size cities often beat sprawling metropolises.

As digital nomads, big cities are nice places to visit, but these days, we rarely want to live there. When my husband Brent and I left America ten years ago to become digital nomads, we imagined ourselves living in the world's most famous cities. In our first year alone, we had planned to live in London, Rome, and Athens. But fate intervened, and after spending our first three months in massive Miami, we found ourselves living the rest of the year in three much smaller cities: Valletta, Malta; Matera, Italy; and Bansko, Bulgaria. And we loved them. We had far fewer "expectations," so we repeatedly found ourselves delighted by these cities' unanticipated charms. And when it came to tourists, the locals were also far less jaded, often outright flattered that anyone would come to their home. Since that first year, Brent and I have lived in some of the largest cities in the world, living for months at a time in, say, Bangkok, Istanbul, and Mexico City — and we've since lived in London, Rome, and Athens too. And we definitely loved those experiences, especially the vibrancy and world-class attractions. But big cities also bring their challenges, not the least of which are the cost, crowds, and often overwhelming pace of life. Life really is different in smaller cities. And after ten years of travel, our current interests are clear: Big cities are nice places to visit, but we rarely want to live there. Two weeks is generally all we can take. Whenever we hole up somewhere for a month or more, it's usually in a smaller city — or even a charming little seaside village. Even more interesting, we've found that, at least among our long-term traveler friends, our attitude is the norm, not the exception. Here are all the reasons why: The pace of life is much more manageable. I've always loved the bustle and energy of the big cities — and I still do. Osaka Station in Osaka, Japan, is the fourth busiest transportation hub in the world, and I loved spending time there, watching the hordes of people rush by and feeling like I was in the center of the universe. But once I'd been there and done that, it got frustrating having to use the station and being confronted by all those people and their endless lines. Whenever we're living in a big city, the sensory overload eventually takes its toll: the congestion, the noise, and, usually, the smaller personal living space. Meanwhile, when we lived on Koh Lanta, an island in Thailand, we lived in a bamboo hut on the beach, and we often walked to meet friends or get dinner along that beach, usually barefoot in the sand. By the time we got where we were going, it was almost impossible not to be relaxed. When we lived in Sibiu, Romania, I shopped in the local Cibin Market where I perused the freshest of fresh tomatoes, peppers, and cherries with no pressure at all — usually having free samples foisted on me all along the way. Counterargument: If you stay long enough, small destinations can seem a little dull. After three months on Koh Lanta, boy, was I ready to go. Smaller cities are more walkable and have a better scale. One of the things Brent and I most hate about America is always being dependent on a car — and then being stuck in traffic. Most big cities outside of America have fantastic mass transportation systems. But Brent and I are great walkers, and in smaller cities, we can often get wherever we need to be simply by walking. When we lived in Valencia, Spain, for example, we discovered the city has rerouted an entire river, the Turia — and then turned the entire dry riverbed into a fabulous park that winds through the city. There's also something very appealing about living somewhere that feels human in scale, where much of the surrounding area is within reach on foot. When we lived in Como, Italy, we literally strolled along the lake every night — eating gelato, natch. Counterargument: You can walk everywhere, but there's less to walk to. You can be in nature in minutes. To contradict my previous point, living in smaller cities — and especially towns and villages — makes it much easier to access nature in the surrounding countryside. It's true that many big cities have fantastic wooded or seaside parks, but these places are also much more likely to be crowded. We're currently living in Port Townsend, Washington, and we can be walking on a beautiful Puget Sound beach within five minutes — and the forests of the Olympic Peninsula are an easy drive away. When we lived in Levanto, Italy, we could take a short train ride to gorgeous villages of the Cinque Terre. But even more appealing? The network of hiking trails that started in Levanto and took us through the vineyards and villages of the Cinque Terre — and kept going all the way to Portovenere, thirty-four kilometers to the south. When we lived in Helena, Montana, we could literally walk to trailheads right at the edge of town that led to fantastic hikes. This is also true of virtually every city or town in Alaska. Counterargument: Come on — there isn't one! It's easier to quickly get a strong sense of place. By the time Brent and I left Grimentz, Switzerland, we knew this tiny town tucked up in the Swiss Alps quite well. We knew its rhythm: what time the locals started getting up — early because, well, the Swiss. We knew how early the towering mountains all around blotted out the afternoon sun, even in July. And we knew exactly what the one grocery store stocked and which clerk was the friendliest. It was easy to very quickly feel at home. And if the smaller city isn't a major tourist hub, the locals really are much less jaded toward tourists. By the time we left Matera, Italy, after a month, we had made a whole host of lovely Italian friends, some of whom we're still in touch with today. There's less "culture" in smaller cities, but it's often easier to experience the culture. Meanwhile, it takes much longer to feel "at home" in a big city. Even after living in Athens for more than a month — and going out exploring almost every day — I still felt like I had only scratched the surface. Counterargument: The downside of being able to quickly "get" a place means there might not be all that much to get. Big cities are fascinating precisely because they're so difficult to fully understand. I don't have to fight the urge to "see it all." When it comes to travel, I can be a bit, uh, compulsive about seeing everything there is to see. When I arrive somewhere knowing it could very well be the only time we'll visit there, I'm pretty determined to leave no stone unturned and no sight unseen. When it comes to a city the size of Bangkok, that can leave me, well, exhausted — and Brent annoyed with me. We absolutely loved living in Sarajevo, the mid-sized capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina (one country with two names), and there was definitely plenty to do. But it was all also very manageable. After six weeks, we really had seen it all, but at a wonderfully leisurely pace. Counterargument: Cities like Sarajevo are "manageable." But after a month in smallish Novi Sad, Serbia, I was bored. In conclusion… Big cities absolutely have their charms. And smaller cities have challenges even apart from sometimes being a little boring: they can be harder to reach; medical services can be less than optimal; and the cuisine or shopping options are often limited. Attitudes and minds can also be decidedly "small." Travel, like diet, should be balanced and include a healthy mix of everything. But after ten years of full-time travel, Brent and I now agree: big cities are wonderful places to visit, but the smaller ones are usually where we go to live.