The Joys and Challenges of Travelling Solo
Turns out, travelling solo is less “Eat, Pray, Love” and more “Eat, Panic, Google Maps.”
After being single for the better part of five years, having close friends who have used up much of their annual leave allowances on trips with partners, and being someone who holds “adventure” as one of my core values - I’ve been forced to embrace solo travel in recent years.
I wanted to share some things I’ve learned so far:
Walking tours are a golden way of meeting people (especially at the start of a trip).
Often free (with a tip), they're perfect for getting your bearings and scouting out spots to revisit later. In Aarhus, Denmark, I met two incredible women on one of these tours. One was newly engaged, the other heartbroken and freshly out of a relationship. We ended up going to a museum together, then swapping love stories over white wine and chips. We didn’t exchange contact details - one lived in Korea, the other in the U.S. - but we wished each other well and parted ways with full hearts. It reminded me how much I value female friendship, even the fleeting kind.
Evenings can feel long and lonely - but events can help!
I'd happily stay out having drinks if I had company, but alone I'm less inclined to, more cautious and wary of my surroundings at night. A good solution I've found is seeking out local events to attend. In Aarhus I went to an improv comedy night - plastic chairs squeezed into a dark, smoky bar with a makeshift stage - my stomach hurt from laughing before the night was over. On another city break I treated myself to this gorgeous cinema (think plush sofas, ornate table lamps and large glasses of wine) - somewhere my ex would've scoffed at as "overpriced". I adored it. As an introvert, these events make conversation with strangers feel more natural - there’s a shared experience to start from. And if nothing else, they make the night feel purposeful. An added bonus: earlier nights mean earlier mornings, which means beating the crowds at tourist hotspots.
I owe Americans an apology.
Confession: I’ve been a bit of a snob. As a quieter person, I’ve often dismissed Americans as loud and overbearing. But travelling solo has totally changed that perception. In Europe, it’s often been the American tourists who’ve struck up kind, genuine conversations. They noticed I was alone, praised my bravery, and offered up the kind of warmth that left me smiling. I stand corrected - and I’m grateful for the reminder not to judge so quickly.
Decision paralysis is real.
Choosing where to eat, which hotel to book, or even what time to go somewhere can send me into hours of scrolling through Google Maps and TripAdvisor reviews. When you’re travelling solo, every decision falls on your shoulders, and I’m terrible at it. Seriously, if anyone’s cracked the code on how to cure decision paralysis, please tell me. I’ll probably spend hours researching your suggestions, but still - worth a shot.
Always have a book close by.
Eating alone is one of the parts I - amongst many others - still find the hardest part of solo travel. It can feel awkward (especially when the waiter makes a ceremony out of removing the spare wine glass and cutlery - eek!). I often catch myself wondering about the other diners: Do they think I’m lonely? Do I look sad? In reality they’ll likely have hardly noticed me. But having a good book to hand means I can shift my attention away from the room and back to myself. That said, the whole fork-in-one-hand, book-in-the-other situation is an art I’ve yet to master.
Start small.
If the idea of dining out alone still makes your shoulders tense up, start smaller. Go for a solo coffee or lunch first - both feel less exposed than dinner. And when you do go out for dinner, ask for a seat along the edge of the room. You’ll get the best people-watching vantage point and a bit more privacy too. If travelling abroad for 2 weeks solo sounds terrifying, start instead with a local day trip, or a weekend away in a nearby town. Start with smaller pockets of time alone and build up to more if you enjoy it.
Stay connected with loved ones.
I’m not usually one for sharing much on social media, but when I travel alone, I’ve started posting regular Instagram stories. It might seem like humble bragging to an outsider, but for me, it’s really a way to stay connected and soften the edges of loneliness. I often get messages from friends I haven’t spoken to in months, sparking small conversations that make the distance feel a little smaller - and the homesickness a little lighter.
Leave Room for Spontaneity.
One of the joys of solo travel is that every moment is yours to spend exactly as you like. While having a loose plan or a few key things pencilled in can help (especially if - like me - you’re prone to decision paralysis), but the real joys often lie in the unexpected. You might stumble across a tucked away wine bar, overhear a tip about a boat trip, or simply feel like doing absolutely nothing. There’s something wonderfully freeing about waking up and knowing the day ahead is entirely yours to shape.
Solo travel, for all its quiet challenges and unexpected joys, has become a kind of gentle teacher to me. With every trip, my confidence has grown - helping me trust myself more deeply in unfamiliar places.
So if you’ve wandered alone and gathered your own rituals, comforts, or small lessons along the way, I’d love to hear them!