Six Months of Solo Travel: lessons from my detour

Today marks the midpoint of my journey – my six-month travelversary. Yup, that’s a legitimate thing now. I have mixed emotions. I’m sad that it’s half-over, excited for what lies ahead and, with so much more of the world to experience, ambivalent about my intended endpoint. I miss my friends and family but I’m not homesick. Every place I’ve visited has left me wanting more.

I’ve been asked many questions over the past six months from friends, family, strangers and…well, myself. Reflecting on just three of these simple questions, along with the not-so-simple answers, has provided a deeper understanding of myself while learning a few major lessons along the way.

When I decided to travel solo for a year, I refrained from labeling it – mostly because I couldn’t find the right label. It’s not a sabbatical because I don’t plan to return to my job. It’s not a gap year because, sadly, I’m not a student anymore. It’s not Eat, Pray, Love because I’m content and already well-connected with my inner self. That plus I’m trying to avoid gaining twenty pounds.

LESSON #1: We are so uncomfortable with ambiguity that everything needs a label.

Do you ever feel lonely?

A friend asked me this just a few weeks ago. No, was my immediate, reactionary response. She was smart enough to ask again in a different way. Has there ever been a time that you felt lonely during the journey? This time I gave it a few moments of thought before answering. My answer was still no.

In retrospect, my answer wasn’t exactly right. Everyone gets lonely. You can be in a room full of people you love and be the loneliest person in the room. So, of course there have been times I’ve been lonely simply because it’s a normal human feeling. But feeling lonely and traveling alone, to me, are mutually exclusive. That’s the context in which I answered the question. I don’t feel any lonelier than I did when I was living in New York among my family and friends.

Solo travel allows you to embrace solitude, often confused with loneliness. I would argue that solitude is an essential ingredient in life. As extroverted and social as I am, I look forward to my solitude. It’s my time to reflect, think critically, write or just be present to absorb the world around me without distractions. As it turns out, I have an intense desire to learn as much as I can about the things of which I know the least.

LESSON #2: Solitude is often confused with loneliness and is an essential part of a healthy life.

Do you feel safe as a woman traveling alone?

This is the most common question I get from both men and women. It’s usually followed by some statement of perceived bravery.

I’ve traveled alone throughout Africa, the Middle East and Europe. I felt safer as a woman in these places than in some parts of the US. In North Africa, I often found myself walking alone down streets filled with men because women are typically not out on the streets. Most who approached me did so to either caution me about potential thieves, none of which I met, or ask if I’m from India because of their love of Bollywood. I felt no safer in the trendy neighborhood in Cape Town or the hipster-esque area in Oslo than I did in population-dense cities of Dar Es Salaam or Marrakech.

Needless to say, one woman’s experience is not enough to declare a generalization about a country or region. What’s been most disappointing is that my response is usually met with surprise and a bit of disbelief. Most expect me to say that Africa and the Middle East, where, by the way, people generally make eye contact and greet you on the streets, felt less safe than areas in Europe, where people often don’t even acknowledge your presence. It’s a strange paradox in my mind. I challenge you to think about the biases that shape this reaction. And if there exists a place in the world that we can honestly say is safe for a women alone, let me know because I might just move there.

LESSON #3: The feeling of safety is a perception based on biases sometimes coupled with experiences. It’s an important feeling to have but also to understand.

What has been the best part of the journey so far?

Connecting with and learning from people has by far been the most consequential part of the journey. I’ve met some incredible humans (and a few really cute animals) with unique and inspiring perspectives. It’s because of them that I feel wiser and more connected to the world.

They’ve taught me that across the globe, we are more similar than different despite the wide variability in our life circumstances. We all seem to want the same things, whether it be freedom, love, equality or personal growth. None spoke of material success in the context of their goals. This was a clear differentiator from the American way of life.  

Needless to say, I now have a long list of global friends, each of whom I’ve met through unique circumstances – a brief chat in a store, a stay in their home or a volunteer stint together to name a few. I once heard a poem from an unknown author that says people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. For me, each of those circumstances is just as meaningful as the other. This has been, and will continue to be, the best part of the journey.

LESSON #4: People are the world’s most valuable asset. Societies that rank value systems and humanity over individualism and materialism, seem the most content.

My journey over the past six months has been invaluable. I have tremendous gratitude for all who support and follow me and for the new friends I’ve made who have taken the time to connect along the way. I look forward to sharing Act II of my detour. Stay tuned!