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A few years ago, I drove to the south of Spain in a Nissan Leaf.
This wasn’t a modern, long-range electric car. It had a relatively small battery, limited real-world range, and relied on the older CHaDeMo charging standard. Charging options were fewer, charging speeds were slower, and route planning mattered in a way it simply doesn’t today.
It was, by any reasonable measure, the harder version of the journey.
That’s exactly why it’s worth talking about.
Constraints change how you plan
With that car, you couldn’t improvise casually. You had to think ahead.
Charging locations mattered. Backup locations mattered just as much. You learned quickly that the plan wasn’t about the best option, but the next option if the best one wasn’t available.
Things did go wrong.
Chargers were offline. Others were occupied. Some were physically damaged and unusable. A few worked, but slowly enough to change the rhythm of the day. Plans shifted during the day, sometimes within the hour.
None of that was stressful.
Not because things went smoothly, but because the plan assumed they wouldn’t. Each decision already had a follow-up. Each delay already had time built around it. When something didn’t work, there was nothing to solve in a hurry. You simply moved to the next option and carried on.
The plan wasn’t about perfection
That trip worked because it wasn’t designed around ideal conditions.
It was designed around variability.
Every leg of the journey had margin built in. Every stop had an alternative. Every delay was already accounted for in how the day was paced.
When something didn’t work, there was no urgency. You didn’t scramble. You moved to the next option and carried on.
That’s the difference between planning for success and planning for continuity.
Experience removes drama
Looking back, the most interesting thing about that trip isn’t the distance or the technology. It’s how uneventful it felt, even when things didn’t go to plan.
Once you’ve worked within tight constraints, easier conditions don’t feel intimidating. They feel generous.
Today’s infrastructure is better. Vehicles are more capable. Options are more plentiful. And I have the benefit of having already done the hard version.
That experience doesn’t make me complacent. It makes me calmer.
Why this matters for work
The lesson carries straight across.
Continuity isn’t about having the best tools or the most comfortable setup. It’s about understanding where the edges are and designing around them.
If you’ve only ever worked in ideal conditions, disruption feels dramatic. If you’ve already planned for variability, it’s just another decision.
That’s the mindset I carry into working from anywhere.
Not because I expect things to fail, but because I don’t want failure to create urgency.
This time, the journey is easier
For this trip, I’ll be travelling in a much more capable vehicle, with far fewer constraints and far more margin. The experience will be more comfortable, more flexible, and less demanding.
But the planning mindset is exactly the same.
Because once you’ve done the hard version, you don’t rely on luck. You rely on preparation.
What comes next
In the next post, I’ll unpack what that journey taught me in more practical terms. Not about cars or charging networks, but about how planning turns problems into non-events.
Those lessons still shape how I work today, whether I’m at home, on the road, or crossing borders.
