I never thought I’d be the one to go travelling. I was an energetic kid but a quiet adult. Depression and anxiety suffocated me as a teen and throughout my early twenties. There are still times when the thought of getting out of bed and facing anything or anyone smothers me with an almost overwhelming panic.
When I announced then two years ago that I was embarking on a solo trip for four months through the Americas, it was no shock that I was met with a little alarm and concern. I’d only been on one solitary trip a year beforehand to Amsterdam. To go then from a four-day excursion to a tourist-friendly European city that was a two-hour flight away, to tackling an expedition across a whole continent, was quite a leap.
In preparation for this trip, I had to learn to get comfortable with my own company. Considering I hated even popping down to the local corner shop by myself, I had a ways to go. I dove right in.
I went for coffees alone, taking a book or just people-watching (an entertaining past-time). I went for days out in the city, window shopping and sometimes just shamelessly shopping. I even went to the cinema by myself – yes, I’m that person. It took a month or two to get over my inner monologue which was harassing me with comments that random strangers were judging and laughing at me. I was reminded by a friend that no one is probably doing any of those things, because everyone’s too busy worrying that other people are judging and laughing at them. It’s a vicious cycle which once I became aware of, I stopped caring about. The reality is that I’m never going to see these people again, so even if the odd passer-by was remarking on my solo status, the likelihood of my bumping into them at any point in the future were slim to none.
And so when I hopped on that plane to Vancouver, I was ready to go it alone. For the most part, the preparation worked. I travelled, I saw, I did. I crossed country after country, navigating my way around cities and towns and experiencing it all. It was invigorating and exciting and freeing. I didn’t have to try and compromise with anyone or sacrifice what I wanted to do. I could decide when I wanted to wake up, when I wanted to eat, where I wanted to go next, and what I wanted to see.
Travelling alone means that you have an abundance of terrible selfies.
You are your only photographer. No one else will capture those moments.
Don’t get me wrong though, there were times when I felt the absence of a companion – when I wanted to share a view or an experience, a thought or a burden. Having to organise and plan and put it all into practice by myself was sometimes exhausting, and long stints on trains and buses (I’m talking days here) could spell only boredom with no one there to entertain me and break the monotony. There were days when I couldn’t encourage myself to leave my hostel – travel is not a cure for depression and anxiety, though it is an effect method of treatment. Getting lost could be horrifying and terrifying; it happened a lot and I definitely found myself in some dodgy situations, so having a friend to back me up would have come in handy.
Said terrible selfie in Jackson Square
But here’s the thing: travelling alone opens so many doors! I have met so many wonderful people from so many different backgrounds and walks of life that I know I would not have met had I been travelling with someone else – for example, in New Orleans I was trying to take a selfie in Jackson Square. It was packed with other tourists, one of whom approached me and offered to take a picture of me if I take a picture of her. Hours later, we’re still hanging out.
Said terrible picture posing in Jackson Square
We’re fully acquainted with each other’s life stories, gone shopping and eaten food, even stopped for a coffee. Considering we met around 1pm, at 8pm we’re being guided around the French Quarter on a ghost tour. When her husband, who had been at a conference all day, called to find out where she was, she responded, “Oh, I’m with Nic! We’ve been doing some sight-seeing!”. His response was, “Who the hell is Nic?!”. Hi! I’m your wife’s new BFF, nice to meet ya.
We still send snapchats and Instagram each other.
And that’s how it is travelling alone. Some days you’re chilling by yourself, having a whale of a time on a grand adventure. Other times you’re wallowing in loneliness and calling the family folks back home because you’re missing interacting with other people and want someone other than yourself to hear your thoughts. And other times you get to make connections with beautiful people and you forget all feelings of loneliness that were being harboured.
You are constantly adjusting when travelling, even more so when you’re alone. That’s all part of the fun.
I never thought I’d go travelling alone, as I said, until I realised that if I didn’t I’d always be waiting for someone else to make that decision to travel for me.
Going Solo I never thought I’d be the one to go travelling. I was an energetic kid but a quiet adult.