To anyone who claims, “I could never travel on my own!” I’d like to say, if you’ve got no-one to go with, just try. Travelling on your own is great. It may be scary, relying purely on your own judgement, decisions and actions. But assuming you survive, that’s a rewarding feeling. It may even be lonely, occasionally. Briefly connecting with friends and family through WhatsApp or social media will give you that loved, brave feeling again. We live in an age of easy communication and sharing. Use it.
But being on your own means your time is your own. You can leap out of bed at 6am or drink tea until 9am. You can stop to eat as many times as you like or as soon after breakfast as you can manage. You can walk quickly or sit leisurely. You can linger in the art gallery and skip the museum.
If you’re driving, there’s no one to blame you or get cranky when you take a wrong turn, take the shortcut that’s a big fail, or just get completely lost. There’s also no-one to navigate which means, especially in Ireland, that you need to ask a lot of directions from locals. (Their signage is so confusing you just have to ask.) Having a reason to talk to locals is always a plus. When walking, I’ve had people walk me to within sight of my destination. People are generally friendly and sociable. Just be careful not to ask the person who looks like they’re running late for a meeting.
You can people-watch as much as decency allows. This is great if you’re a writer, especially if you can hear their conversations as well. Watching people be happy makes me happy. Seeing people smile makes me smile. I’ve heard some great lines while sitting in café’s and occasionally I’ve heard a conversation that’s really made me appreciate being on my own. Lack of conversation between a couple can have the same effect.
People will talk to you as a single. There’s other singles (don’t be shy, just open with something obvious and you can quickly tell if you want to keep chatting or not) and a huge number of couples. Those that have run out of conversation delight in talking with the new person. One will usually make a comment or ask a question. And then it starts. I’ve had conversations with a farmer, business owners, English tourists, Irish locals and yesterday, a woman from Byron Bay, Australia, who also loves travelling alone. Some of these conversations even lead to email exchanges. An Irish woman, dining in a restaurant with her father, started talking to me as she sipped her after-dinner hot port. We were almost best friends by the end of it and I asked her to look me up if she ever got to Australia. She wrote her email address down with the description, “the mad kelpie lady.”
There are many more advantages, but sharing how I like my own space, own bathroom, own bed is probably too much personal information.
The highlights of travelling on your own are: you set the agenda, the timing, the place, the conversation, the solitude and the choices.
What’s not to like?