Travelling Solo
I’ve often travelled on my own. Not for any particular reason, more that I decide to embark on an adventure, throw myself into planning the itinerary and forget that somebody might want to accompany me. Often I’ve been single, other times I’ve travelled with somebody and wished I was.
I’m currently in the UK, and travelling from London to regional areas across Great Britain. Because I feel somehow connected with Ireland, something that always floors me when I go there, I’ve planned to spend a week there too. It was the strangest thing the first time I went to Dublin, as if I had been there in another lifetime. For that reason I’m heading back to spend time writing a book and assuming the life of a writer.
I remember times during trips where I have felt lonely and wished to share the experience with somebody. I have travelled with others and wished I was on my own. Everything was a compromise and at times there was an inability to find things to do that suited us all. On other occasions I felt I was the passive bystander in somebody elses journey, not considered or asked if I was happy with the plans.
I had a terrible experience of being a passive bystander after I finished medical school. My partner at the time was not a great fan of the resort holiday, something that my exhaused body and mind would have soaked up. I agreed to tag along on a 3 week trip across South America. A trip that involved hiking the Inca trail to Machu Picchu. Something I was not prepared for, a hike at extreme altitude that probably requires weeks of training to complete. I cried the whole way. We watched the sun rise over Machu Picchu on the last morning and my tears were not about the sheer wonder I was experiencing, more sheer relief that the whole trek was over. Throw in a few weeks of altitude sickness, some pretty severe food poisoning and my partner having an extreme psychiatric reaction to antimalarials in the middle of the Amazon River and I was lucky to make it back to Australia in one piece. I did lose about 10kg and a whole lot of confidence about ever travelling again. Our relationship ended not long after that.
In contrast, on my first full day in London yesterday, I noticed the exuberance of being able to step out of the hotel and venture exactly wherever I wanted to go. I spent exactly as long as I wanted to at every destination. I decided on impulse to purchase a ticket for an exhibition at Kensington Palace, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I arrived back at the hotel on an absolute travel high. I chose an Indian restaurant for dinner and I ventured out with my book for company. I noticed the exuberance wane as I sat in a restaurant filled with couples and groups and I started to notice I felt lonely. If it wasn’t for the fact that I needed some food I would have skipped the whole thing.
I don’t mind sitting alone in restaurants, or even in bars enjoying a drink at the end of a trapse about town. I mind the glances from others. I think I am too quick to judge the meaning of the glances, for maybe they come from people who wish they were doing what I was.
It’s a strange affliction of humans that we tend to compare ourselves constantly with others. I know I tend to check in constantly to see if others seem to be having a better time than me. I think that’s something I need to work on, along with getting out of my own way and talking to people when I travel. This trip has just begun and I’m determined to give that a go, as awkward as it feels. Because maybe that’s the answer. Maybe we are not always meant to have travelling companions from the moment we embark on an adventure. Perhaps the best approach is to venture out on the exact journey you want, and allow people in to meet you along the way, at various points in your itinerary. It seems pretty confronting, especially after a pandemic and a loss of social connection, but this intrepid traveller is keen to give it a go.
