The Lone Ranger: The Argument For Going Solo

I’ll admit, there are times when I wish I were traveling with someone else. Especially when I need to get coins out of my purse while holding an ice cream cone, which is a three-handed maneuver. But despite moments of frustration and periodic isolation, traveling alone has been one of the best parts of this trip. Here’s why:

1) Getting Swept Away: Groups of travelers rarely get carried off into the unplanned adventures familiar to the solo nomad. This is partly because of the fact that everyone has a different priority or different energy level, so not everyone is game at the same time. And wheedling discussion and comparing of schedules is the antidote to adventure. More importantly, locals are far more likely to invite one traveler into their home than a group. One American at your dinner table is Greek hospitality, but three is a tourist invasion. 

2) On My Own Time: I can spend exactly as long as I want in any given sight or museum. If it’s boring, I leave after a few minutes. If it’s cool, I stay. End of discussion.

3) No Explanation Needed: If I want to walk to the other side of the city to go to the restaurant with the good feta and the nice waiter, I do it. Or if I want to stay in my room one night and watch West Side Story, I don’t have to justify that movie choice. Then when I hum “I want to be in America…” loudly in the shower nobody cares. Did I say hum? I meant sing. 

4) Meeting New People: If I had a posse of comfortable friends with me, would I have struck up a conversation with a middle-aged Australian man in a ridiculous Indiana Jones hat? Absolutely not. I would not have met any of the rock-climbers, spiritual-seekers, recent-divorcees, soldiers, sailboat-inhabitants, beekeepers, aspiring-poets, or morally questionable police officers that made my trip memorable.

5) One person fits on the back of a motor scooter. Five do not.