Travelling solo: Why everyone should try it at least once.

By NAT HAWK

Like pretty much everyone else in the world, I really love to travel.

I love visiting beautiful, exotic beaches and sampling the local delicacies. I love learning tidbits of new languages and meeting new people.

There’s only one problem.

I really don’t like new places and I don’t like surprises. Which really interferes with my whole I-love-to-travel persona.

You see, I’m a creature of habit. I love schedules and I love knowing exactly what’s happening at all times. I like to know where I’m going and how it’s going to look when I get there. I like knowing exactly what activities are going to be on offer. What I can order at the local restaurants. How comfy the pillows are.

I often find myself booking trips to go to the same places and stay in the same hotels. Sometimes, I even request the same rooms. And I generally go with the same people.

(I know, I just am a giant ball of fun. If you’d like to hang out with me sometime, please make an appointment with my secretary – there’s a long waiting list.)

Just as an FYI, this post is sponsored by But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words. 

When I do embark on a new adventure, I always love every minute of it. Yet it takes a lot for me to get to the point where I’m actually willing to do something new and different. It’s so incredible for me to ever go to the effort of pulling myself out of my comfort zone.

And in the meantime, I am missing out on SO many new experiences that I would absolutely love. Which is all kinds of disappointing – especially when I think about how many places there are left in the world to visit, and the short time in life that I have left to see them all.

I was inspired by this quote: “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”
― Helen Keller, The Open Door

So in January, when I found myself with a bit of spare time and a bit of spare cash, I went ahead, Googled some random destinations and booked myself a plane ticket to go overseas.

I didn’t have all that much of a plan ahead of me. And I was going to be travelling alone – something that I had never, ever done before.

Of course, there were some risks involved. There always are. And at times I was lonely, and cold, and hungover, and just wanted to see a familiar face. And it was REALLY DAMN HARD to drag all my suitcases around the airport by myself. Especially when I just wanted to quickly pop into the newsagent or the bathroom.

But I loved it. I loved going into random bars and sitting on the bar stool by myself, striking up conversation with whoever happened to sit next to me. I loved having the freedom of waking up in the morning and doing exactly what I felt like doing that day.

I took up offers of adventure and did things that I never thought I would do. I turned my phone off for days on end. I struck up hour-long conversations with bus drivers. I drank far too much cheap wine.

I didn’t go away to look for life-long friends. I didn’t go away to develop a whole new sense of what it means to be happy. And yet I somehow came home with both.

Now I’ve made a promise to myself to take more risks. To seek more adventure. To push myself way, way out of my comfort zone and just force myself to book trips that are nowhere near the places I’ve been before.

They say that you never regret a child or a swim. I’d like to expand that quote out to include the fact that you never regret an adventure, either.

What’s the biggest risk you’ve ever taken?

If you need a good book to keep you company on your next trip, try some of these…

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