Why I Travel Alone
When I first began imagining a trip to Europe, I asked myself a number of questions. Where do I want to go? What do I want to see? How do I want to get around? These questions took days, sometimes weeks, of research to answer. But there was one question I didn’t have to spend too much time answering: with whom do I want to travel?
For me, the answer was easy: I wanted to go it alone. This wasn’t a decision I made out of necessity — sure, it would have been difficult to find someone willing to drop his or her summer plans and travel around Europe for ten weeks, but I could have done it, or I could have at least found multiple people to go part of the way with me. I could have even signed up for a professionally guided trek with other college students and not had to worry about planning everything on my own. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to travel all by myself.
Before you jump to any conclusions, no, I’m not an anti-social hermit. No, I’m not difficult to live with (at least my roommates haven’t told me so). I’m a pretty outgoing person, actually, and I haven’t had any problems making friends on my travels. But I really enjoy spending time with myself. Even when I’m at school, I make a point of going on dates with myself, whether to the movies or for a walk around Boston Common. I think it’s very important to enjoy being with yourself — if you don’t enjoy your own company, how can you expect anyone else to?
The same logic applies to solo travel, although I don’t view my trip merely as an exercise in independence. As a solo traveler, I don’t have to compromise on what I want to get out of my trip: I can design my itinerary with my own dreams in mind. I love art and history museums, and if I’m alone I can spend as much or as little time as I want in them. I drifted through the British Museum in London for over four hours, pausing at every ancient Greek vase to see if I could recognize the mythological scene it depicted, but I stayed at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam for fewer than 45 minutes because I didn’t find the collection particularly impressive. Maybe a museum companion would have shared my sentiments, but I didn’t have to worry about whether a friend was having fun. Instead, I could focus entirely on getting as much out of my visit as possible. If I’m too tired to tour anymore, I can go back to my hostel and take a nap. If I want to spend an entire day relaxing and not leave my hostel at all, that’s okay too. It’s all up to me, and I can chart my European course as I see fit.
Of course, this also means there is no one to help me plan my trip or fix my mistakes. I get lost a lot, and I’ve taken the wrong tram more than once. Thankfully, Google Maps is more helpful in fixing these problems than a partner would be. The app is not very helpful in calming my frazzled nerves, though. It would be nice to have someone to chat with about what I see when I see it, or to order that other dish I really wanted to try at a restaurant so I could have a taste, too.
This is where Summer Playbook has been especially valuable. I usually meet up with fellow Playbookers for dinner or drinks, and it’s so nice to share a meal with new friends after eating alone most of the time. Even if we can’t work out a time to meet up, Playbookers have been vital in helping me plan out my time by making useful suggestions about what to see or where to eat. I know that if I ever need help, I can contact anyone from Playbook and he or she will assist me however possible. Summer Playbook does not encroach on my independence like having a full-time traveling companion would; rather, it enriches my experience by introducing me to new people from around the world and shaking off the loneliness that sometimes accompanies solo travel.
However, not everyone recognizes the benefits of solo travel. Whenever I arrive at a restaurant and ask for a table for one, it’s hard to miss the waiter’s slight tilt of the head or interrogative repetition of my answer (“Just one?”). When I meet new people on my travels, whether local or foreign, their first question is often, “Who are you with?” They’re usually pretty surprised when I say I’m all by myself and will either tell me how brave I am for daring to venture out on my own, or they’ll ask me if I’ve considered my safety (no, I’ve never really thought about the inherent risk of a woman traveling across a foreign continent on her own… *eyeroll*).
Perhaps it was uncommon for women to travel alone several, or even a few, years ago, but it’s not anymore. On my trip, I’ve met several young women, mostly college students or recent graduates, who have decided to see the world for themselves. These travelers have little in common except curiosity and a desire to see the world, whatever that means to them. For some, it means checking out art museums or famous historical sites. For others, it means crawling from pub to pub until the sun rises. Some of the women I’ve met are single, and some are in committed relationships. Most are not love-hunting or looking to find a serious significant other abroad.
We are women, and we are world travelers. Feminism has showed us that we don’t need a man, or even anyone except ourselves, to accomplish our dreams. I saw an opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do my entire life, and I took it, regardless of (or more likely because of) the fact that I’d be doing it alone. I am not brave, and I am not alone in my choice, even if I am alone by choice.
So if you’ve ever dreamed of traveling the world but have been waiting for the the perfect traveling companion, take this as a sign that now is your chance: you can have your greatest adventures all on your own!
