I feel similarly about where I live now, but don't come to quite the same feelings about travel, just different feelings than I used to. For me, the grass was literally greener in nearly every different place compared to where I lived until I moved. My hometown was and is truly a shithole, it actively discourages every quality that the author describes and that I get in Vancouver; it's not impossible to develop, but it's rarer than it should be, assuming you'd be willing to put in the same amount of effort and have enough patience anyway. Travel had a different feeling when I felt that people in different places were fundamentally different, which led to a certain kind of extra novelty. Likewise, travel brought different feelings when I was more confused upon landing (which the author eludes to) or couldn't communicate, or could fantasize about one day living in the place as a dream. But.. I did, I moved, and developed a much more interesting and valuable life than I could have otherwise, and now I don't glamorize some of those other places quite like I used to. I have zero interest in moving away from where I do, those other places aren't competitive in the ways they'd need to be for me. That said, I do still value the exploration of discomfort and the adventure it would be to re-establish a third life somewhere new, because I don't really know how it would go, and that's still invigorating in a way that I couldn't have imagined when I was much younger. It's just that nearly none of those places would compete, I already love my day to day environment; that sort of move would be an intimidating leap despite not looking for anything better. That said, I'm fortunate that I've managed to build something for myself in a city that does compete favorably. I go to other "world class" cities, and it's very hard to find better food, better scenery, or really anything else that I don't already have access to. I'd need to go to more low key rural areas, and I'm excited about that.