Category Archives: Planning Solo Trips

Getting Started: Taking Your First Solo Adventure

You can begin traveling on your own now, starting slow, building up skills, and testing your confidence level. Learning is in itself a journey with some pretty significant benefits.

When you talk with friends who love to travel, they can usually tell you how they got started, especially if you buy the wine.  My first trip abroad, in high school, was with a mixed group of students and recent retirees, a trip of a lifetime for all of us. For months, I slept with the brochure at my bedside, memorized the itinerary, and dreamed about what we’d see. It was a supportive first trip for a kid from the rural south to learn about currency exchange, public transportation, and why the English put butter on my ham sandwich. How do you make the next step?

Here are some great ways to begin. I’ve overthought this so you’ll see upcoming blogs on each possibility.

Visit a resort with lots of activities.  This is how I began travelling alone, with a destination spa resort full of classes and events to schedule.  I visited Miraval, a destination spa in Tucson, that was like summer camp for grownups. At the resort, I met people in classes, went to happy hour, and even had a seat at a single traveler’s dinner table. I was in control of the amount of solitude and independence I wanted.  I met great people, but it was my trip.

Travel to a city that you would love to explore and find a ‘home base’ hotel.  This is a wonderful next step.  I chose Paris.  I’d always wanted the time to walk the city and understand the two banks, the Ile de la Cite, and arrondissements.  Picking the right hotel and making a couple of key activity reservations can make all the difference.

Then the big league. This may be where you start! For me, it took a minute. Letting go of home base, where the staff was there to help, and being truly on the road was a big step.  Eventually, I tried riding the rails, then driving, and ferry-hopping.  Once I was comfortable, I began to crave this freedom of the open road and the possibilities in a day all your own.

On that first trip to Miraval, I pored over the daily offerings and (yes, really) I made a spreadsheet to make sure that I could, if I wanted, fit everything in.  This was very easy travel BUT it helped me learn to to think deeply every day about what I wanted to do (not what I should do or what I said I’d do, and not the spreadsheet).  It actually takes a little practice.

What I Learned

  • The Magic Moment. Feel that moment when you step off a plane, alone, in a new place, with only yourself. No expectations to fulfill, no one waiting for you. You don’t bring all your roles and identities with you unless you choose to. Blank slate!
  • Self-management. One of the hardest things about traveling alone for me is not whether I know how to navigate the world but knowing how to manage myself.  How do you respond when something doesn’t go well? How do you come back from that? Do you remember how to connect with new people? Do you want to? What do YOU want to do today? If you get a handle on this, you’ll see benefits in other areas of your life.
  • Vulnerability.  In other areas of life, you may not be great at asking for help. I practice this more when I’m traveling on my own. If you are gracious and a good listener, asking can make a difference. If I have a concern about my room, I engage the front desk in possibilities. If I need advice about the day, I ask. Your experience is precious. Admit you’re in new territory and sometimes the result is more than you imagine.

Paris in a Day

A wonderful singer songwriter, Ellis Paul, wrote a song, “Paris in a Day. Paris in a Day. Only an American would do Paris in a Day.” And yet!

I had a plan to see Carcassonne and Mont Ste. Michel, using Paris as my home base, flying in for an overnight, training down to see MSM, back to Paris for a wonderful day, then back south to Carcassonne. It made my in-between, full and lovely day in The City of Light very special, like a gem in a setting. Paris wasn’t the purpose of the trip so the day was the vacation from the vacation, no lists, no rules, no expectations.

Sunshine, gracious not glaring, a light breeze, the crunch of gravel under the blooming horse chestnut trees. The sound of distant chatter from a tour boat on the Seine.

Nowhere to be but here.

Shouldn’t every trip have at least one unplanned day to wander? An absolutely unscheduled day that lets you tap into the joy of the traveler. As a type-A traveler, I set challenges, have lists, and push to the next summit.  I can lose the joy before I realize it.

Once, with a whole week to spend in a beautiful city, full of places to be and sights to see, it struck me. This used to be more fun.  My travel lust started at fourteen on a fantastic 16-day trip from London to Lucerne. I still have whole sections of the brochure memorized.  Though I might not feel the same way today as I did then, walking out of the hotel, luggage whisked away and boarding the bus meant anything could happen. I just had to show up.  (The smell of bus fumes in a city still inspire a feeling of possibility and mystery – odd, but true.)

As I stood in the street that day, in that city, I changed my plan.  I had a list of three obscure museums that the average traveler would not find and an address for a great authentic lunch.  I ditched the plan. How could I reclaim that feeling of the naive traveler wandering through the day like a theme park of history and art?  When all else fails, go to the train station.

From the train station, a joyous line of day-trippers was pouring into the streets. Hawkers were selling souvenirs, ice cream and expensive Cokes. I got a $4 Coke Light and joined the crowd. I felt it edging back in – JOY! You could almost hear carnival music.

Wondering with the crowd, I landed in a neighborhood that had eluded me the day before with my map and my list.  There it was – a perfect accident.  I broke my rules and ate in a restaurant with a menu in four languages.  The food was adequate but the people-watching was stellar.

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It was the ultimate day off amid a vacation.  So, back to Paris and the horse chestnut trees.

On this morning, I bought a pastry on the corner and started a slow ramble along the Champs de Mars. Following a bustle of activity, I watched with the crowd as three military helicopters landed like very dusty dragonflies. (We agreed, the crowd and I, that this was either very interesting or very bad.) Then, from far down the park, we heard the jingle of bridles and the most amazing equestrian parade appeared.

A visiting dignitary had apparently arrived and was whisked into L’Ecole Militaire. Soon after, they emerged once more, were bundled into a motorcade, and traveled down the boulevard with brilliantly uniformed riders before, after, and alongside the cars.

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It was spectacular.

And then they were gone, and I continued my stroll. What next?

I like problem-solving and gain great gratification from jumping hurdles and finding myself on the train after a tricky connection or achieving that elusive sunset view at the very right moment.

It is, though, a balance to maintain – the combination of great feats and achieving a purpose and just strolling with a camera and ice cream.  That day in Paris I wore a dress that I almost gave away. “At my age,” I thought, “this dress would only work walking along the Seine in Paris with an ice cream cone.”  So I did and then left the dress for the next guest.

 Community: Solo Travelers Aren’t Alone

There is an excitement to being on the road alone, seeing the world in a 360 way, with no other close friends and familiar family between you and this new place.

Solo Travelers however travel in the web of everyday people who catch us when we fall and point us on the road…if we see them. A recent trip brought in sharp focus that we are never alone.

This summer was my first solo departure since an injury and long recovery. Going over TravelStashplans, I found a hitch.  The presenting problem was the need to change terminals in Chicago required using the air transfer bus to make my Aer Lingus flight to Dublin.  It was unlikely I had enough time to change terminals with a bus that comes around every half hour.  There was an easy solution with an earlier departure from home but the way I booked the ticket made in impossible to change.

The morning of my trip I was anxious, so I spent a little time in prayer and meditation. I got the same strong message, “you are not alone; ask for help.”  Now, I don’t seek direct answers in prayer often, so this was new.

Ultimately, I made the flight but I learned at every turn that we are each other’s safety net.  Overworked, underappreciated airport staff, fellow travelers from other countries, flight attendants who weren’t even on duty. They all made my trip work.

After an exuberant Uber ride that could have been written off as therapy, I headed in to wait for my flight to O’Hare. “Ask for help.” An American flight attendant was also waiting for the flight. I took a seat near her, we chatted and I asked her about the transfer.  It was going to be really tight. She pointed out that the first delay might be waiting for my wing-checked bag before making the run for the bus  She gave me a special luggage tag that would help get the bag off first.

Our flight was delayed by a short thunder storm making it a little worse but finally we landed in Chicago. On the jetway as we all waited for our bags, all coping with delay, the staff person organizing the luggage delivery overheard my conversation with my new friend and offered to call down for my bag. One person threw it to another and then up to us.  She also advised me which gate was really the quickest to get to for the transfer bus. Off I ran (kind of) up the jetway.

Running after a broken leg is neither pretty or effective, but run I did. I arrived at what I assumed was the departure gate where the bus picks up passengers for the International Terminal. Imagine a harried, stumbling, short-of-breath, luggage-rolling mess showing up to this crowd of patiently waiting people.  I was very lucky. The family at the edge of the crowd, travelling from the Middle East, took me in, explained the process, and hustled me along with them. The bus was miraculously arriving at this moment.

As we rolled down ramps to ground level to board the bus, the door keeper asked for a card I had never heard of.  What green pass? The calm attendant could have sent me back upstairs to wait for the next bus but instead she pulled me aside, made a call on the radio, and another travel angel ran down the ramp with a card for me.

The last saving grace was that our flight was delayed a few minutes due to a quick mechanical fix. I made the flight.  I got to enjoy the bulkhead seat I’d reserved weeks before, the special meal, and a terrific seat mate. I’d arrive on time to meet the friend and navigator in Dublin.  The tv screen didn’t work at my seat but for once it just didn’t matter.

What I learned is that I would never have made the connection, metaphorically or the actual flight, if I had depended entirely on myself.  If I hadn’t asked, listened, and received grace from those around me, I would have been left.

As I travel now, I am more attentive to the travelers around me. How can what I know make the difference on the first day of someone else’s big adventure.  Alone, I sometimes feel the loss of the shared response, the unexpected insight, and most of all the better navigator but I am more conscious of the great flow of people around me.

 

Learnings

Using a third party broker like Travelocity or Orbitz can be great but it you have more than one airline on your ticket, changes can be very difficult.  For international flights, I’m booking with the airline directly.

Earlier in my travel experience, connections had to be viable. With online bookings, the unusual variables, like terminal transfers or the odd need to leave security in some connections, aren’t always factored in.

Solo Travel – The Do-Over

This is a repost of a blog from earlier last year.  As I am getting ready to take off on another trip, I have been thinking about the difference between pushing your comfort zones and feeling anxious about exciting new experiences. The learning I am having, and that I hope you do, is to give yourself a break.  The unexpected can be the best part of the trip.

My last morning in Spain found me chasing the moon across the island of Mallorca, driving pre-dawn through fields as the ‘super moon’ set on the horizon.  It was a spectacular sight bringing joy at the end of a trip that had some seriously un-spectacular moments.  I had just completed a week-long riding clinic.  This ending moment sealed a trip that had ruffled my expectations of travel adventures.

Expectations with travel are complex.  What do you see when you look back over your own travels?  What has changed for you as you try new things or become more at ease? More importantly, why do you travel?

For me, what began as week-long explorations of single cities (which I highly recommend) or a low-risk itinerary hopping trains across a country I love has  evolved to adventures that add more and more challenge.

Pushing myself with a new challenge brings me home with more confidence and assurance in what I can do in everyday life. There is always learning – figuring out public transport, acclimating to the pace, and managing to buy a coffee in Italy. (It’s not easy.) By the end of the trip, you find the perfect view, buy the coffee, begin to feel at home in a new place and at home in your own skin.

New challenges are an important part of why I go solo. On recent trips, I’ve done  more driving and spent more time out in the natural landscape. So fewer museums, more mountain roads.  My lifelong commitment to a stick shift paid off.

This past year was a new step for me with solo travel.  As I passed a big birthday, I wanted to reclaim a hobby or skill from my past, something I could reclaim and keep.  So after almost a year of lessons, off I went to Mallorca for a week of horse riding.

If you are a school or a course junkie, you may have had thoughts about a cooking tour or language immersion or, like me, a school for equitation.  I learned a little more than I expected – I realized that what  makes this kind of travel work are the constant opportunities to start over!  Yes, the Do-Over.

When you are alone in Iceland and do something unbelievably stupid, you make it back to the hotel, (in my case dry off), get a good night’s sleep, and start over! While you are conquering the world, the presence of strangers allows you to make mistakes, step back, try again and hopefully take the day…eventually.

With a week-long class or clinic, you have an epic fail, get a good night sleep, get up and see the same people again at breakfast.  I am not a good rider.  I learned this in bold new ways on my trip. Most of the experience was spectacular…but part of it was likIMG_0260 (2).JPGe being back in high school gym class but with better and more expensive workout gear.

My best moments were when I slipped away in the tiny blue Fiat I rented and navigated the hill towns on the island, found hidden backroads, and learned how to pay a parking ticket (all of this as you can imagine is related).

Push, try new things, leave time for complete relaxation – but as you travel, you’ll become more aware of where you find your joy.  What’s next for me?  Driving across Ireland, this time with a friend!

What I Learned

  • If you are looking at a learning trip, think about the pace. Is there time for your own adventures? Do you love meeting new people and cherish the group time? What do you want the experience to be like?
  • If it’s learning a skill, give it up a little. It won’t be the same – the accents will differ, the horses won’t have the same gaits, the cooking measurements aren’t as familiar, the instructor has a different approach.  Be ready to shift.
  • Start below your perceived skill. Take the pressure off. Who doesn’t want to be promoted once you are there?
  • Most of all, appreciate the journey itself. I wouldn’t trade moment of my year of lessons preparing for the trip. It was the best part but it took planning a trip to get me started!

 

Iceland 3:  Purpose and Snow Pants

Snow pants. Insulated, waterproof, snow-white pants. Planning the big Icelandic trip, somehow these were necessary. Or rather they were on sale at REI and, after I looked at them twice, they followed me around the internet. But I thought this through. What were the obstacles to fulfilling my trip goals of northern lights, glaciers and horses? Being cold…or wet… or cold and wet. The pants were an investment in the dream.

There is a deep stream of true in knowing your priority and purpose. This is an obvious truth in life but for me, it is an absolute when I travel alone. Going to relax or to ‘have a good time’ is too ephemeral for me. If I know what I am about, then choices fall into place. The old flaws of chickening out or defaulting to an easier plan B ease.

Saturday night, my arrival at the high end hotel I had so looked forward to seeing was a little rocky.  The public areas were beautiful, but closed for a Christmas buffet. The hot tubs were full of children. My room was eventually quite wonderful but at first glance had a retro-state-park-knotty-pine style. But smaller.

The other guests were testy. They too were here to see the lights but seeing the Northern Lights proved more about arguing over your ISO setting and the tripod than seeing wonders of the heavens. With your eyes. In the moment.

So, the hotel staff telephone your room when light activity starts. The first round at midnight was a cold and chilly disaster. When the phone rang again at 2:30 a.m., I had doubts. (I could hear the photogs setting up outside my room’s window.) And my morning plan was to leave at 7 and make a long drive to get to the glacier pool to see the sunrise over the ice.

Here is where it started. It was very tempting to stay inside and warm. I had an early morning ahead. And furthermore, the much heralded buffet didn’t start until 9 a.m., long after my take off. I deserved a sleep in, it was a little scary to drive in the dark, and why would I miss the much reviewed breakfast buffet in the morning? The glaciers would still be there at noon.

Clearly, This is not end of the world stuff but you can feel the adjustments and the scaling down beginning. If I took the easier travel path this night, I would have had more sleep tomorrow.  If I postponed even my departure, I could enjoy the hotel. I would also lessen the risk of telling off the grouchy Brits outside my window struggling with more camera than they could handle. But how would I feel later? Would that slow and insidious feeling of everything being less begin?

So, I got up and put on the bright white puffy pants, 2 Buffs, double gloves and resolutely stomped out. I stomped out to put myself square in the possibility of seeing those lights. The pants were great. I was warm and I stood there for over an hour.

I only marginally saw aurora activity, but standing there, we all saw the miracle of the clouds rolling back from the southern horizon until revealing, at last, the whole huge sky of stars brighter than any I’ve seen. In a week of forecasts of 100% cloud cover and rain, it was magic.

A few hours later, at six, I hauled out of bed and made that dark drive with the solid knowledge that I had come and done just what I planned and worked and wanted to do.

Yes, I did tell off the Brits. It was a Dixie Carter, fire batons over Georgia, milestone moment for a courteous traveler. And true, I could barely stay awake at the end of the day Sunday as I drove back, even singing classic rock as loudly as possible with hand motions.

But what I had was  the buoyant, unconquered glow of success for which I had come to Iceland.

 

Solo Travel and the Do-Over

My last morning in Spain found me chasing the moon across Mallorca, driving pre-dawn through fields as the ‘super moon’ set on the horizon. I had just completed a week-long riding clinic. It was a big ending to an unexpected trip.

Expectations with travel are complex. What do you see when you look back over your travels? What has changed for you as you try new things or become more at ease? More importantly, why do you travel?

For me, what began as week-long explorations of single cities (which I highly recommend) or hopping trains across a country I love has now evolved to adventures that add more and more challenge.

Pushing myself with a new challenge brings me home with more confidence and assurance in what I can do in everyday life. There is always learning – figuring out public transport, acclimating to the pace, and managing to buy a coffee in Italy. (It’s not easy.) By the end of the trip, you find the perfect view, buy the coffee, begin to feel at home in a new place and at home in your own skin.

New challenges are an important part of why I go solo. On recent trips, I’ve done  more driving and spent more time out in the natural landscape. So fewer museums, more mountain roads.

This past year was a new step for me with solo travel.  As I passed a big birthday, I wantedto reclaim a hobby or skill from my past, something I could reclaim and keep.  So after almost a year of lessons, off I went to Mallorca for a week of horse riding.

If you are a school or a course junkie, you may have had thoughts about a cooking or language immersion or, like me, a school for equitation.  I learned a little more than I expected – I realized that what  makes this travel work are the constant opportunities to start over!  Yes, the Do-Over.

When you are alone in Iceland and do something unbelievably stupid, you make it back to the hotel, (in my case dry off), get a good night’s sleep, and start over! While you are conquering the world, the presence of strangers allows you to make mistakes, step back, try again and hopefully take the day…eventually.

With a week-long class or clinic, you have an epic fail, get a good night sleep, get up and see the same people again at breakfast.  I am not a good rider.  I learned this in bold new ways on my trip. Most of the experience was spectacular…but part of it was likIMG_0260 (2).JPGe being back in high school gym class but with better and more expensive workout gear.

My best moments were when I slipped away in the snappy blue Fiat I rented and navigated the hill towns on Mallorca, found hidden backroads, and learned how to pay a parking ticket (all of this as you can imagine is related).

Push, try new things, leave time for complete relaxation – but as you travel, you’ll become more aware of where you find your joy.  What’s next for me?  Train hopping across a country I love – the one I call home!

What I Learned

  • If you are looking at a learning trip, think about the pace. Is there time for your own adventures? Do you love meeting new people and cherish the group time? What do you want the experience to be like?
  • If it’s learning a skill, give it up a little. It won’t be the same – the accents will differ, the horses won’t have the same gaits, the cooking measurements aren’t as familiar, the instructor has a different approach.  Be ready to shift.
  • Start below your perceived skill. Take the pressure off. Who doesn’t want to be promoted once you are there?
  • Most of all, appreciate the journey itself. I wouldn’t trade moment of my year of lessons preparing for the trip. It was the best part but it took planning a trip to get me started!

 

Travel Tips: The First Day of the Rest of Your Trip

Are you a citizen of the world or a cranky American?

It’s Saturday, May 4, arrival day. For so many weeks, this is the first day on the itinerary…you leave on the 3rd and arrive on the 4th.  Beside May 4th, on the itinerary I write “PARIS” but no plans. I know not to fill this day with arduous sightseeing – it’s a blank slate.

On the first day of my very first trip abroad, one of my favorite professors, Tom Howell, led our group on a boat cruise down the Thames. There it was – a kid from Pineville, Louisiana, was introduced to London on the river of the Romans, Shakespeare, Monet and Churchill. Standing at the rail, London rolled out before us: Parliament, St. Paul’s, The Tower. This first adventure didn’t require physical or mental acuity – just awe. It was the right beginning to that trip and to a life of travel.

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford. Samuel Johnson

One Thing. This set the plan for me. On your first day, do one truly wonderful thing – see the famous corner where (fill in the blank), walk a boulevard, find a site from your favorite novel, have your first soufflé.

Why is this important? It’s the first day of the trip you’ve planned so carefully. This day can set the tone for the rest. Are you a successful citizen of the world gliding through international capitals or a cranky American who can’t figure out the subway ticket machine?

So on my first day in Paris, I found a restaurant recommended by a friend, Julie, who knows a great deal about Paris. It’s Le Souffle and they can serve a multiple course meals comprised solely of soufflés. This I had to see. To get there, I sorted out the map, bought a carnet of metro tickets, navigated my way to Le Madeleine and then enjoyed a very Parisian walk down Rue Royale. A quick turn on Mont Thabor and there it was…Le Souffle. (Small victory – I am a successful traveler and will be given lunch).

After a celebratory cheese soufflé,  I could let the rest of the day unfold with a lazy walk down Rue Rivoli, then across the Seine and back to my hotel for the inevitable surrender to sleep before the sun set!

 What I Learned

The first day is great for running errands, maybe validating your Rail Pass and making train reservations. A couple of necessities are crossed off your list but also you learn or relearn how to use public transportation and find ATMs. Bank a success.

Everything seems complicated the first day…and then on the second day, you’re experienced.

Bonus tip.  Boiled eggs.  Many breakfast buffets have a basket of boiled eggs. If this basket is adjacent to a vat of hot water, they may not be boiled…yet.

Planning the Big Getaway

As I dive deeply into the planning of my spring trip, I wanted to share this post with you again.  What starts as an idea, gets put on paper as a spreadsheet of possibles, is inked in with travel times, ultimately becomes the dream and adventure!  I hope you find something here helpful as you plan your next big getaway.

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It usually starts on a rainy afternoon for me – that moment when I know it’s time.  All the ideas that have flitted through my mind, all the reviews from the travel section, all the Pinterest posts, begin to swim to the surface and demand attention.

Wrinkle-free clothes look chic (add a scarf and the right jewelry and you could wear it 7 times…)

Travel-size products are everywhere.

Luggage stores are fascinating.

But, once you decide to take the trip, to just do it, how do you start to put it all together?  For me, it all starts with a spreadsheet. Really.

In business school, we would start a financial model for an idea with a blank spreadsheet.  This was tough for some folks to do.  You’d hear the question, “But, aren’t you just making it up?”  Well, yes.   In the end, we all learned to take that empty spreadsheet, create some basic assumptions, identify some facts and decide the desired outcomes.  Then, we began building a picture.

It was never “right” at the beginning but by creating a rough picture we could start changing the pieces, shifting the variables. Pretty soon, we had a working model whose outcomes would change as we turned the dials a bit.  It was just getting started that felt hard.

This idea that I learned in school doing case studies of imaginary widget factories (with decreasing utility for said widgets while widget raw materials costs increased) actually works for me for trip planning. For you, it might be a dream board, a flow chart or a set of post-its.

What matters is asking the question: What are the basic blocks?  This is a018_18 great way to distill your your big technicolor travel dream into parts and start to prioritize the pieces.  The center of your dream could be a place, an event, or a season. I wanted to see the spring flowers bloom along the Seine in Paris, preferably from a boat, admittedly wearing my new yellow trench coat.  There just isn’t much opportunity for a yellow trench in Tennessee, but in Paris?

After scouring web sites to define the range for “spring”, I thought about what I wanted to trip to be like.  I’d love to see the full moon on the Seine so which weeks during  March, April or May would have a full moon?  Then during those weeks, was there a concert, festival or other event I’d like to see?  Any major events going on whose crowds I’d like to avoid?

This gives my trip a shape — once I put in the date range that gets me where I want to be,  but still with wiggle room, it’s a great time to look for good airfares. Can I leave 2 days earlier or come back a day later?  Then, I decide the top three or four experiences that the keys to my big technicolor dream trip.   Sometimes this causes a shift within the trip …if I only have a week, the days the  museums are closed in one city or the night tickets are available for an opera in another can shift the days within the master plan but no problem.  It’s all in context.

Once I have an arrival and a departure, and a few major activities, I start to have fun. There is enough structure to see the trip as “real” and start working on the details and extras.  Then I begin to write the travel brochure for my big adventure.

Here’s one thing I quit doing. Until recently, I planned out every day charting out what I would see, where I would go, how I would get there. Every morning I pulled out my marching orders from home and struck out.

Then it hit me.  Travelling on my own demanded more. I wanted to learn to choose what I wanted to do each day, on that day, to intentionally listen to my own heart and to take opportunities and to be brave.

My “home self”, the self sitting in PJ’s months earlier surrounded by travel books was as stern a taskmaster as a professional tour director insisting I only had 15 minutes for the Louvre. I had become my own dictator. I wasn’t really living in that moment.

Now I just have the non-negotiables charted (and this gives me a bit of confidence) and work from a list of possibilities that I pull out from time to time.  Doing what you most want to do on any particular day is more difficult than you might think but worth the experience. Shuffling off the coils of what I should do, what friends suggested, what Rick Steves would do, to follow my own path is the goal for me.

What I Learned

  1. Just start. Create a spreadsheet or chart for the number of days you have and start filling in the blocks. (Remember to check travel times and train schedules).
  2. Pay special attention to the three or four things that are key to your trip – check exhibits, opening times, holiday effects and availability for these most important plans.
  3. If you don’t feel like going to the museum, at all, no one has to know.  One brochure from the hotel lobby and your secret is safe.

 

 

Adventure with a Purpose

Look at your bucket list.

What do you see? Destinations, journeys, experiences, some personal challenge that makes sense only to you? Travel is a big part of my life list – to cross every Parisian bridge over the Seine, to walk the walls of Carcassonne, to have time to “be” in a place, to gain the knowledge to move through a place.

Acqua Alta. After the loss of a friend in 2009, I took a long look at my list. In that very moment, I stopped and bought tickets for a winter journey to Venice in hopes of experiencing something that had always fascinated me – the high water phenomenon in Venice. If not now, when?

Setting off on a trip with a clear focus is the best kind of selfish. I would not put anyone else through the reality that Venetian majesty might well be dimmed with fog, rain and chill. And 2 feet of water. That we’d be substituting a cozy dark bar with port for the sunny Lido.  The trip circled around what intrigues me and me alone.Flood Behind Inst. of Letters

It was a singular type of adventure – everything from the date (full moon, winter) to the hotel (great public spaces) and to the space in my luggage for my new Wellington boots – was structured around a behind the scenes look at Venice and the winter high water.

So, I left the week of my birthday and arrived on a cloudy Sunday, with a certainty of why I was here in a city stringing its Christmas lights, buttoning its jacket, turning inward.

It was a trip built on chance but it all happened. On my first morning, I awoke to the high water alarms and through my window watched the water overtake the hotel pier. (It was worth every cubic inch of suitcase space those boots required.)

It was everything I hoped, seeing behind the tourist veil to how Venetians live in a city on stilts, walking with grandmothers across temporary plywood risers to cross the square, standing in a foot of water waiting for my morning coffee with office workers, and seeing the dignified staff of the Europa & Regina clearing the marble hall of water before other guests descended! I saw and learned so much but after that morning, after the flood, I was off the clock. The rest of the glorious week had earned its spontaneity and ease. I had seen what I came to see and now each day was an open ticket.

For 2014, it was Iceland and the Aurora Borealis. It was a long shot – in deep winter, in Iceland, in 5 hours of daylight. Putting myself in the path of possibility.

What is still on the list? What must I do on my own? What would a partner never understand? What will I regret if I wake up one morning unable to go on such a trip?

What are we hoping for – in our travel, our hobbies, our loves? For me, it may be completeness. What will I resolve, put to rest, fulfill? What will add up to a life well-lived when I face the unexpected end?

I hope that by the end of my time on the planet I become wise, whole, kind and loving with a sense of humour and surprise. And I want to have reached out for all the planet wanted to show me.

Where are you going?

What I Learned

  1. Having a single goal, something you feel passion around, gives a sense of purpose, priority and structure to a trip on your own.
  2. Picking a hotel with great public spaces is a valuable investment. You need a place around people where you can read, email and watch the parade of life.
  3. The hotel staff is your home team. Let them know why you’ve come and what you hope to experience. A clear and passionate purpose can be irresistible and you may find unexpected help.

 

Why I Travel Alone

Venice. It’s early on a gray December morning.I’m standing alone on a long pier that stretches out into the lagoon.  It’s pouring rain and, under my umbrella, I’ve rolled my suitcase as close to me as possible on the narrow floating walkway.  Yesterday I booked the St. Marco water bus to the airport, picking a time early enough to catch my morning flight back to New York without worry  What I didn’t know is that at 7:30 a.m. in a town where unless you are in produce or fish, you’re not out before 9, the ticket booths are shuttered, no other travelers are in sight and the only signs point me here to this damp narrow spot.

I’m standing in the middle of the whitecapped sea, in the rain, rocking on a lonely pier not really certain if my precarious spot is the right precarious spot to get to the airport.

Why did I take this trip alone? Why didn’t I spend for the private taxi? Why did I wear these shoes?

A boat approaches an adjacent pier. Hey! Should I be there instead of here? I start to head that way and the jaded boat pilot waves me back to stay put on my little perch.

Then out of the mist and rain, chugs a cheery little water bus with the right logo and a guy in a raincoat  ready to pull my bag aboard, steady me as I hop on and I stumble into the steamy interior.

There’s the moment. I’m a world traveler, a trail blazer, a citizen of the world.  I’m a woman who can take public transportation with luggage.

That awareness of my own competence sends me home just a little different. That is why I travel alone.

It may be a little more than that.  My desire to share my experiences about traveling alone comes from two places – first the discovery a few years ago of the joy of traveling alone. While I love traveling with friends and family, there is a completely different experience when you step, completely anonymous, off a plane in a new city with an adventure stretching before you. More importantly, as I talk with women, I’m surprised again and again by competent, independent friends who are daunted by the idea of going alone and either don’t travel because they don’t have a companion who can go with them or travel with friends they know will not want to go/spend/cruise/visit/learn/relax as they would.

There is nothing like the feeling that you faced a challenge and found yourself capable.  It’s a small thing like arriving at the airport on time when you are there but once home, it’s that added confidence that you can indeed do many more things than you ever imagined.