THERE ARE SO MANY INCREDIBLE REASONS TO TRAVEL SOLO SOMETIME IN OUR SHORT LIVES. That’s not to say this is an adventure without its struggles. I’m not talking about emoshe moments of loneliness or fear of being abducted (that’s for another post.) I’m talking the very annoying, and very real logistical fuckery that comes as standard when travelling solo. YEH, GOOD LUCK PEOPLE.
Applying sun lotion in places you can't reach.
Or as I like to call it the ‘NOMAD’s CHOICE’ of travelling to warmer climates alone. That inevitable, impossibly difficult decision one has to make, between premature skin damage caused by insufferable sunburn or having multiple strangers rub lotion on you, sporadically throughout the trip. Oh and not forgetting first having the pleasure of actually asking these strangers to rub lotion on you, without them thinking you’re a sex worker, a pervert or just inviting perverted behaviour from them. Oh the joy.
Aside from the general embarrassment of doing this, now add in having to repeatedly explain that yes I am alone, no I didn’t come with a boyfriend who could cream me, no I’m not on a gap year with a group of 22 year old friends, and yes I really am enjoying it regardless of being on my own…
Language barriers mostly weren’t too much of an issue here, except the third time, when I approached a young french couple. Going through the same awkward routine, bottle of lotion in hand, gesturing a rubbing motion and smiling optimistically. The couple looked at each other, exchange a few words in French, nodded excitedly, and proceeded to turn over and lay face down on their towels. Ah… Right… So, apparently I was a beach masseuse.
I clearly didn’t give this plan enough thought. As I stood there being the awkwardly polite, people-pleasing Brit that I am, I contemplated just doing it to avoid seeming rude, or disappointing them. Yes, I considered massaging two strangers on a beach in Thailand purely to avoid an awkward situation… (Is this Alanis’s definition of irony?)
But thankfully my senses quickly returned and I realised I didn’t have to massage strangers on a beach at all, I could just politely explain the misunderstanding and excuse myself. Or, I could do what actually happened… slowly and silently back away and hope I never saw them again. The ultimate ‘french exit.’
Swimming in the sea, without getting your stuff stolen!
Part two… you managed to get through the emotional and physical awkwardness of being sun-creamed up by the nearest and least threatening human. Now, temperature is rising, cool crystal water is beckoning, and then it dawns on you. WTF does one do with one’s valuables while basking in the ocean?! (Aka phone, powerbank, kindle, hotel key and non-counterfit sunglasses. Obvi.)
Personally, I did consider asking aforementioned sun-cream applier to watch it, however I knew this could take me to new levels of dumb. Just because they’d touched more of my skin than my own mother has since childhood, does not mean they wouldn’t casually pocket my phone full of bikini selfies and leave me garment-less on a beach. Hmmm… being my first solo adventure, this is when it occurred to me I had not prepared for this.
But I needed to go in the ocean, I needed to feel the ocean, the ocean was why I was there. I decided my best bet was to relocate my beach set-up so ridiculously close to the water that the tide was lapping my towel, and to bury my vitals in the sand. As a final security measure I spent my entire “chilled” swim time staring relentlessly at my towel, buried treasure and anyone who strolled near it. 100% anxiety-free relaxation, 100% not achieved. My second day there I realised I wasn’t the first person ever to be on a beach on my own and that the modern world had created a solution to this. This came in the form of a less-than-chic but very effective waterproof lanyard wallet to put all the vitals in, whilst swimming. WIN. I have since also purchased a floaty bag too, these are available in so many sizes; if you’re being beach-minimal you can get one the size of your fave clutch, or if you have a full cam-kit + more, you can go supersize!
Drinking alone.
Whether you’re being a baller charging cocktails to your room service, necking a beer at your hostel bar or taking a cheeky bottle to the beach, this is your time. Solo vacay’s are perfect for relishing in the guilt-free pleasure of sipping those bevies, alone. Going to a restaurant or bar alone can initially seem like a terrifying feat, and I feel ya, but please know this will probably be one of many challenges which will soon become mini accomplishments.
How often is it that in your normal 9-5 (or 8-7 for fellow Londoners!) you get the luxury of alone time? Home = you’re typically flat sharing, cue conversation as soon as you walk in the door, work = your dealing with clients, colleague, customers all day, and even the commute = yes you can tune out but it’s less than relaxing when the train carriage has 3 times as many people as seats, and you’re crammed in with a banker’s armpit in your face. This moment of solitude is often unknowingly welcomed time to think, to plan and to just take it all in.
On the other hand, the sweet (totally justified) taste of drinking alone is also a great way to meet people when hauling your ass around countries where you know no-one. Rather than a possibly bleak antidote to another day working late or another failed Tinder date; when travelling by oneself, going for a solo drink can actually be an awesome social lubricant!
Sitting with a beer on your own isn’t as scary as it seems, as it usually doesn’t last very long. So order that drink, grab a seat and be ready to chat if someone is near by.
All of your photos are selfies.
I realised travelling alone meant I was going to have to cross a new line. A line I never thought I’d have to consider. Something that could potentially change me forever, and fundamentally who I thought I was. In fact I believe this is where the whole ‘finding yourself’ mentality comes from, tbh. Yep, I realised I was going to have to buy… a selfie stick.
But sometimes we just need that extra reach to make sure to capture the whole fomo-inducing horizon behind us. And trust me once you’ve tried it… it’s hard not to go back from more. Now, I’m officially obsessed.
For that initial hit, it really does make you feel different, more flattered, more confident, more able to multitask (they’re great to use while cycling!).
However being a one-woman backpacker does mean if you want to be in the pic, you’re taking it. Which equals numerous sunset selfies. Of course there is always the option of asking some passerby to snap you, but there is also always the risk (or guarantee in my case) that they will be able to run faster than you, so…!
Another approach is to invest in a great Gorilla Pod tripod, but again, most ideal for quieter spots when you’re not at risk of someone swiping it while you’re serving up your best beach-bum pose.
