Some thoughts on travelling solo. And shopping. And having a day off!

With the exception of work travel and a couple of long weekends to New Zealand, it’s been many, many years since I travelled solo internationally. By many I mean nearly 25. So it’s safe to say I was a little apprehensive when I left Brisbane nearly three weeks ago.

However, I’m in the groove, and apart from the occasional crappy day (hello wet and cold and miserable day in Istanbul), it’s been awesome.

If truth be told, while I’m travelling solo on this trip, I’ve planned it so that I’m staying with friends and relatives for at least half my nights away (and thank you all, as without you, I doubt I’d even be doing this trip!). I may be an introvert, but I’m very social and I need people I love around me. At least some of the time!

One of the things that has struck me the most is that I have had a lot of alone time. Far more than normal. And while I am enjoying time on my own, it’s kind of weird.

It’s great not having to consider anyone else while making decisions – where to go, what to see, what to do, when to eat, what to eat etc etc etc – but it’s a bit lonely not having anyone to share the day with at the end of it. To talk about the silly things that happened, the people we met, the experiences shared. I miss having a dining companion. I’m more than happy to eat breakfast and lunch alone, but I really don’t like eating dinner alone. Especially in a restaurant. Mostly I miss having a cuddle and a giggle in bed at night. No, that’s not a euphemism! The Accountant and I laugh together a lot.

And as I’m currently in Turkey and speak exactly zero words of Turkish, I’m barely even speaking to people! Other than exchanging a few words with shopkeepers who speak a little English. Or making comments to other English speaking tourists when I hear them. And of course, my regular Facetime chat with The Accountant’s nose. Or teeth. Or bald head. I’m tempted to share a photo of what I get to look at, but it’s really not pretty. However he does make me laugh. And I think I miss that the most.

Those of you who know me well will know how hard it is for me not to talk to anyone. And actually, it’s probably why this rambling post is so long. Sorry about that! Have to get some of my daily word quota out somehow!

But back to my alone time. It has led to a lot of thinking. And a lot of stream of consciousness thinking. I’m not sure if this is good or bad. It certainly has been interesting.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the pressures of travel, and the expectations of others when you travel. So many people have told me they are living vicariously through my tweets, my instagrams and my Facebook updates. And I love that, I do. But I feel even more pressure now. Am I doing what they expect? Quite often I expect not.

I’m not a “typical” tourist. I mostly loathe the typical tourist attractions. Generally because of too many people. I saw the Eiffel Tower from a distance. I didn’t go the Louvre (this time – I went 25 years ago. Didn’t love it. Loved other Paris museums and galleries far more). I’ve never ridden to the top of the Empire State (and I won’t be when I go to NYC). I suspect I won’t do all the touristy sights in London (unless my loved ones there take me – I would rather drink tea and wine and catch up with them). I doubt I’ll go to Topkapi Palace while I’m in Istanbul. I’m running out of time here and frankly, I’d rather go to the farmer’s markets tomorrow morning and wander the streets looking at the local sights and people. I am going to try and squeeze in a visit to the Blue Mosque. But I might visit a different Mosque instead. There are a lot to choose from. And they are all beautiful.

I mentioned on social media that I really didn’t enjoy my experience at Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. Mainly I found it completely overwhelming. It was all the things I hate, so I don’t really know why I went there. Other than that it’s expected. Oh, and it was raining and it was largely undercover. It was like a giant shopping mall except less refined than my local Westfield’s. It was full of pushy sales people who just wanted me to buy buy buy. It was jam packed with tourists. I’m assuming they were mostly tourists as surely the locals have better places to shop. And probably the locals wouldn’t shop with a camera around their neck. The same items were for sale again and again and again. Every second stall seemed to sell pashminas, scarves, “hand painted” ceramics. 

The reactions of my friends to this surprised me. The general consensus was that I should return to give it another go. The overwhelming reaction was that I should really go back and buy something. Um, why? I’ve never seen the point of shopping for the sake of shopping. If nothing takes my fancy (and nothing really did), then should I really just buy something so I can say I did? Is that really expected? I really don’t want to carry unloved purchases around for a few more weeks. I really, really don’t want to pay to ship home that “bargain”. Sort of defeats the purpose.

And then there is the pressure of always being on the go. What if I want a day off from being a tourist? To do laundry. To read a book. To go to the movies. To sleep in! Ok, maybe I’m doing that one anyway… I’m away for seven weeks. That’s a really long time to constantly be moving. And speaking of moving, I’m walking an average of 12-13km a day (today I did more than 16km!). My legs are tired! My feet are a little sore. However a joy of travelling alone is that I can do all these things if I want to. Except I wouldn’t go to the movies alone. I hate doing that. I’d rather stay in with a book. Or catch up on The Good Wife.

However I think what I love most about travelling alone is that I push myself more. I do things I doubt I’d do if I wasn’t travelling solo. I certainly talk to a lot more people. Strangers. I’ve had some fascinating conversations these last few days. A conversation about art with two other tourists in a shop. An incredibly thought-provoking conversation with two young American Jehovah’s Witnesses about religion. And about how all religions basically share the same beliefs. We met on a bus when they (and another friend of theirs, also a JW), told me they were going to a tulip festival in a park. I invited myself along. They have just moved here for a year or so as volunteers in their church, and are trying to find their way around with the guidance of their friend. It was such an unexpectedly wonderful afternoon, and I doubt it would have happened had I not been travelling alone.

Travel is really a gift (yes, the JWs and I talked about that too). I’m so grateful that it’s an experience afforded to me. Grateful for my family and friends around the world who are happy to give me a bed or a piece of floor to sleep on, and a few meals. Grateful that The Accountant understands how important this is to me and supports my choices, even when I’m sure he rolls his eyes. Mostly I’m grateful that I was born in the time and to the people I was, as my parents instilled in me a love of adventure.

Travel really makes me realise how lucky I am to live where I do and that I have the life I have.