When he's not at home in Brooklyn, designing rooftop gardens across New York City, 37-year-old Jonathan Yevin is living the dream, spending six to ten months a year on the road as a writer and adventurer. He has enough incredible stories to make him a candidate for the next "most interesting man in the world." In the past year alone, Yevin has visited Armenia, Georgia, Azerbaijan, Turkey, Tunisia, Israel, Lebanon, Italy, Greece, Bulgaria, Spain, Belgium, Germany, Poland, Scotland, Ireland, "and some Nordic countries." He swung by Emirates to visit a friend, and India for his third time at the Jaipur Literature Festival; he skipped from Mexico to Panama to Colombia, where "the kitesurfing is proper and a fresh fried fish with all the trimmings costs five bucks right on the beach." Next month, he'll likely head back to Africa and Asia (not or—and).

So, the question we all have: How do you do it? How do you afford it—the time off, the flights, the unpredictability of a life on the road? In addition to "an array of overnight plane rides and last-minute one-ways on discount carriers," Yevin's travels could be boiled down to one constant: no luggage. He's kind of famous for it. Just Yevin and his trusty passport, circling the globe like his life depends on it. Wouldn't we all, if we could leave our baggage at home?

I chatted with Yevin about a few of his greatest tales and travel tips—like never underestimate cargo pants.

You're known for traveling the world without any luggage. What was the first trip you took where that cemented this tradition?

Ten years ago I was on assignment for Men’s Fitness, researching an article about mountain climbing in the Andes, which involved lugging nearly 100 pounds of equipment up and down 20,000-foot peaks. Upon returning to Quito I officially renounced my Sherpa-ness by giving away all that gear to anyone in need. I stripped myself down to the bare essentials—passport, toothbrush, credit card, and a couple hundred bucks. From there I took a few months, headed north all the way to Mexico and back down again to Costa Rica, where I had an assignment for the Travel Channel. The production fellas in San Jose looked at me like I'd just been airlifted from a mujahideen training camp.

What's your go-to outfit for traveling?

It's always something very plain and nondescript, so no one notices I'm wearing the same thing every day. When I'm traveling without bags, colder weather is easier since I'm not constantly sweating. A jacket offers much in the way of pocket space. I don't travel with clothes I'm sentimentally attached to. All the more easier to replace them whenever the occasion arises. In the developing world, tailors are plentiful and cheap—I've had street couturiers dismantle cargo paints, migrating the pockets from the front to be hidden inside. While this affords me the ability to keep my money, passport, toothbrush, phone, and charger safely tucked away, it has left many receptionists and immigration officers in a tizzy whenever I had to unzip my pants to pay for a hotel or fill out a visa form.

Go-to airline?

Whichever's most economical. I've pretty much memorized the route maps of every discount carrier in the world, from AirAsia to Interjet to Jazeera. I once flew from Morocco to France on an airline called Jet4you. Yes, with the "4" ungrammatically squished like that. I have no complaints when it comes to air travel. Even after hundreds and hundreds of flights the whole process is still so wondrous. "Sitting in a chair in the sky, like a Greek myth," in the words of Louis C.K. Which is not to say I don't have standards... I will not be re-booking the charter service from Mexico to New York any time soon, which lost an engine mid-flight, sending our 747 into a sharp 180-degree bank as the captain turned on the emergency lights. The woman in an adjacent chair, a complete stranger, suddenly seized me in a dear-life cling. Once when I worked in Africa, I sat in front on a 14-seater between the mainland and Zanzibar, and noticed the pilot kept the instruction manual in his lap and obsessively referred to it.