English travel author Sam Baldwin has spent half his life chasing mountains. He’s lived and worked in seven countries – from Japan to Scotland to Slovenia – and is now Editor in Chief at paper republic where he shares stories from our community around the world. 

He talks about using his journal to capture life abroad, turning fish-out-of-water experiences into books, The Law of Hidden Doors, and why AI will put a premium on the human experience…

You spent two years in rural Japan (and wrote a book about it). Why Japan?

At age 21, immediately after graduating with a degree in Pharmacology, I went to work in a Canadian ski resort. A year later, I returned to the UK to get a ‘proper job' in a laboratory. The team were friendly and doing valuable research, but I quickly realised that lab coats and microscopes were not my calling.

My year in Canada had opened my eyes to a different way of life. I could not quash the lure of the mountains. A friend in Japan kept sending me pictures of the incredible snowfall there. When one day my boss spoke of my career prospects and the ‘great pension’ I could expect at the lab, I had an unignorable urge to make a change. 

I applied for a job as an English teacher in Japan and went off to live and work in an unknown Japanese backwater, ringed by mountains. That experience completely altered my path.

How did you get into writing professionally?

Ironically, I hated writing at school. I showed no aptitude for it in English class. It was only in Japan that I began to write regularly. Life there was so different to anything I’d ever experienced. Every day was an adventure into the unknown; mundane tasks like going to the supermarket were full of wonder – at least to begin with. I started writing about the quirks of life there, first as a blog, then I progressed to magazines, newspapers and later, books.

When I returned to the UK, writing became my new path. In the evenings and on weekends, I wrote travel articles as a freelancer for many publications including The Guardian and The Times. And for my day job, I worked in content marketing: writing and editing articles, creating podcasts and newsletters, drafting press releases and video scripts, and more. This eventually led to me building and leading my own international team, producing content in multiple languages across Europe, Asia and The Americas. 

Nowadays, as Editor in Chief for paper republic, I seek out and tell other people’s stories. It's been fascinating to speak with so many interesting people around the world.


Tell us about the books you’ve written...

My first book – For Fukui’s Sake: Two years in rural Japan – is the true story of my experiences in a little-known part of the country; a place far from the high-tech, crowded Japan that many might imagine. 

It was a Japan where snakes slithered down school corridors, where bears prowled dark forests and where Westerners were still regarded as curious creatures. For Fukui’s Sake has sold over 11,000 copies, and I’m happy to say, continues to sell.

For Fukui's Sake: Two years in rural Japan - a travel memoir book by Sam Baldwin

In 2024, my second book – Dormice & Moonshine: Falling for Slovenia – was released. This is the true story of how my brother and I bought a 300-year-old ramshackle cabin in the Slovenian mountains (that came with 300 problems) and how I ended up moving my entire life to Slovenia, as a heart-broken hermit. What was meant as a pit stop became life-changing when I decided to stay. 

The book explores the culture and characters of this underappreciated ex-Yugoslavian republic, its language, its wild beauty, and its wild animals. It’s a love letter to a country that seduced me and has never let me go. And it's a story about what can happen when you jump into the unknown to chase a dream. 

Dormice and Moonshine: Falling for Slovenia - a travel memoir by Sam Baldwin

How do you use your journals for your writing?

Taking detailed notes is an essential part of my writing process. It’s the details which give your words authenticity, but such details are quickly forgotten. For Dormice & Moonshine, I drew on a decade of notes that I’d made during my visits, and whilst living in Slovenia. 

I’m now working on my next book which will be about life in rural Austria. I use my journal to record events, thoughts and happenings that might make interesting source material.

I also have several other journals: one for my German studies, one for personal projects, one for work at paper republic. I even have a journal for keeping track of my vegetable garden harvests.

What’s your journal set up?

Currently I use my paper republic grand voyageur [xl] (in petrol blue). It’s the ideal size for carrying with me, yet it has enough space to write detailed notes. I have a lined book refill for my work notes, and a dotted notebook where I play around with new ideas, for example, a new project I recently launched: The Travel Memoir Review, curated reviews and recommendations of travel memoir and travelogue books.

Why pen and paper, not pixels, for your travel notes?

I’ve tried many ways to record my notes over the years: Word files, notetaking apps, even voice notes with a dictaphone. But I love the speed at which I can jot something down on paper. I have a smartphone, of course, but I hate typing on it. Phones are horrible for writing anything longer than a line or two.

I prefer the simplicity of writing with a pen and paper. There are no distractions. No battery problems. No connection issues. My journal works everywhere, every time. I also find the physical format of a notebook is easier to use as reference material compared to digital notes. I can quickly locate the page I want, then have my journal open in front of me, and refer to it whilst typing on my computer. 


What’s your advice for those who want to write a travel book?

Before you can write about a place or journey, you must first experience it. So go forth and explore. Hone your writing skill by publishing a blog and try pitching article ideas to magazines. Making your words public forces you to find stories worth telling and to practice your wordsmithing.

Next, if you want to write a book that has a chance of selling, find an angle that has not been covered already. That could be a country or region that hasn’t been written about much, or it could be a new slant on an otherwise well-known place. 

Before I wrote For Fukui’s Sake, I researched other books on Japan to see what was already published. At that time, very little had been written in English about life in rural Japan, so that is the angle I took.

It was similar for Dormice & Moonshine. Despite Slovenia being a wonderfully unique and stunningly attractive country, almost nothing about living and working there from an outsider’s perspective had been written.

I was convinced there was a market for a travel memoir about Slovenia, and it seems there was. Following the English version, Dormice & Moonshine was translated into Slovenian and published by Slovenia’s largest publisher in autumn 2025.

The Slovenian version of Dormice and Moonshine, a book by Sam Baldwin

How will AI impact travel writing and the writing profession in general?

In a previous job, I got the chance to play with an early incarnation of ChatGPT. Even back then I could see how powerful it was and how it would change the writing industry. If it hasn’t already, it will make a vast number of writing jobs redundant.

But by definition, AI is artificial. It’s pretty good at answering factual questions and rewording information that already exists. But it can never have original, physical, human experiences. It cannot move to Canada’s High Arctic Research Station, become a Ukrainian jewellery designer, or exhibit artwork in Vienna’s most famous church, like members of the paper republic community have.

In this new world where AI-generated slop is polluting all areas of artistic creativity, I predict people will place a premium on genuine human stories. 

Finally, you’ve lived in seven different countries. What is the best and worst thing about living outside your Motherland?

The best is the eternal adventure into the unknown; life is rarely boring. I could never have predicted I would end up living at the foot of mountains in rural Austria. Living abroad also enhances your understanding of other cultures (turns out there are many ways of doing the same thing) and – depending on the country – your language skills. 

The worst is being far from family and old friends, and the feeling of disconnection due to the language barrier. When you first arrive, everything is new and exciting. But that phase wears off eventually. Then you must grapple with language isolation, always being different, always being the one who doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. That can wear you down.

But despite the challenges of being a longtime fish out of water, the wonder of experiencing the world beyond your own borders easily outweighs the hardships. I would advise everyone to spend at least one year living and working abroad. It has taught me what I call The Law of Hidden Doors

This is the concept that there are many doors of opportunity out there in the wide world. But you cannot see those doors, let alone open them, from afar. It’s only once you take a chance, jump into the unknown, and move somewhere new, that all these previously invisible doors begin to appear: new friends, new jobs, new relationships. And once you pass through one, you always find more on the other side.

Sam Baldwin is paper republic's Chief Editor, and the author of For Fukui’s Sake: Two years in rural Japan and Dormice & Moonshine: Falling for Slovenia. Learn more about this work at SamBaldwin.me.

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