TRAVELING SOLO: THERE WILL BE TEARS
My introduction to solo travel came from visiting people in other places. As an anxious flyer, getting on a plane alone was a big step for me—when I first went to London and on several flights to rendezvous with a long-distance boyfriend in Denver, I would ask the stranger sitting next to me to hold my hand during takeoff. Cringe.
On such a trip several years ago to see my friend Kelli in Hawaii, I was desperately seeking an emotional oasis after settling with a former employer over sexual harassment and the subsequent loss of my dream job. They say you can’t run away from your problems, but I disagree; the destination just has to be breathtaking. After a few days of Oahu working its magic on my nervous system, I realized it would be ridiculous to have flown 10 hours only to stay on one island. I took Kelli’s suggestion and planned an excursion to Maui. By this point I’d learned to travel by myself without violating anyone’s physical boundaries, but the flying smartcars that serve as Hawaii’s interisland transport would test even my strongest coping skills.
Somehow I survived. And I found myself alone on a sliver of paradise, with the day stretched out in front of me and no one to compromise with. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I chose, which is precisely what I did. By the time I had to head back to Honolulu, yes, I was still convinced the aircraft that would get me there was a deathtrap, but at least my last day on Earth had been filled with the juiciest pineapple of my life, tranquil blue waters lapping against my feet on pristine white sand, a sumptuous massage, and a rainbow arching toward us as we ascended. “Um, I make no promises this plane won’t break up on contact with a cloud.” -God, probably.
Since then, traveling solo has been the rule, not the exception for me. I wish I could say it’s all gone smoothly, but as you may have deduced from the headline, there has been some turbulence. I’ve been catfished by a hotel purporting to be 5-star. Once a bartender assumed I was a prostitute for committing the unthinkable act of having a drink by myself in a posh watering hole. (In his defense, I was dressed to kill.) There was the time a ferry attendant caught me sans face mask and threatened to make me sit on the deck for the entire two-and-a-half hour journey—in high winds, no less. On my last trip to Paris, I spent a grotesque amount of money to experience life at 18th century Versailles and then proceeded to tour the grounds via golf cart and run over and destroy my own iPhone—I guess the Universe has a sense of irony. I’ve gotten lost more times than I can count. You get the idea.
In each of these situations, I had only myself to rely on, and so I handled it. I booked a room at another hotel, negotiated a refund, and learned the hard way to read reviews. I enlightened the bartender on a woman’s ability to enjoy her own company, was entertained by his stories, and tipped him generously. I snuck past the ill-tempered attendant and begged a mask off a kinder one. I sheepishly made my way to the Apple store and shelled out a lot of Euros for a new phone. And I continue to discover new places thanks to wrong turns.
Problems aside, the lack of travel companions—fun as they may be when I have them—provides a deeper experience. Not only do I tend to strike up conversation with strangers more readily, but I also become better acquainted with myself. There is no clarity like that found in the absence of the noise of other opinions and the distraction of everyday life.
A brief note on safety: As a woman, I do have to be ever-vigilant on these vacations. There is more a perpetrator may want and could take from me than a wallet or watch. However, the sad truth is that due to my sex, I am not entirely safe anywhere. And so, as with my fear of flying, the possibility of harm is something I acknowledge but do not allow to hold me back.
When I talk to other women about traveling solo, I tell them: Listen, it won’t be easy. You may get lost or scared or overwhelmed or all of the above, and you will long for the crutch of company. But you will also realize just how capable you are in the face of adversity. Your inner voice will grow louder, and you will become attuned to everything you actually want, never to be diminished or silenced again.
This is the dual reward of going it alone. While you explore a new spot on the globe, the world inside of you expands as well. Who will you be on the other side of a solo trip? There’s only one way to find out.
x Kate