It always happens when I am recounting a recent escapade to what some of my friends call an 'exotic' location. Maybe it's the enthusiasm that lends itself to my stories or the sparkle in my eyes that glues them to what I'm saying, because it is then that they raise the question: 'when are we travelling together?'
Suddenly the excitement and passion with which I had relived my foreign experiences dissipates. I find myself lost for words and offer a meek, 'yes we should do it sometime'. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I don't like company during my escape from the island; it's just that solo travel has opened up so much more. It feels like an epiphany, and I have some friends to thank for that.
One, for example, was very keen on going to China's Xinjiang province in mid-2011. But because ballooning airfares were making the trip increasingly impossible, we changed destinations. Several times. It's 2013 and we have yet to travel together.
Up until 2011, I was content with admiring Nari for her ability to just pack her bags and fly off where she desired. What made it all the more incredible, for me at least, was the fact that she's petite and a girl! I'm not sexist but it did make me think: if she can do it, why not me?
Of course there's the initial apprehension about going it alone: will I get bored, how do I bring myself to eat alone, and -- more importantly -- who's going to take photos of me (especially if you, like me, are one of those who thinks sticking your arm out and aiming the camera at your face is absolutely silly)? As cliched as it is, and like everything else, you won't know until you try solo travel. And the results can be quite surprising.
Travelling alone makes you your own master! You choose how long to take in one place -- you can linger for days, or run off after half an hour. You let everything take its time to slip into your skin -- the sights, the smell, its taste. You make conversation with other people because at some point you simply have to -- be it with the barista in a cafe or a fellow traveller -- think the Ethan Hawke/Julie Delpy starrer, Before Sunrise (1994).
During my solo trips, I've couchsurfed a number of times. The people I met were absolutely amazing and they added so much more to my overall experience, whether it was discovering an un-touristy part of Krakow with Maciek, or walking into an Argentine-run cafe in some corner of Barcelona with Cesar. There's so much more you learn about people, their city and their country when you live with, or simply share some time with them. Conversely, they learn a little more about you too. In Kyiv, Ivan and his friends were amused that they had to zoom in several times before Singapore showed itself in its full glory on Google maps. I still remember the looks on their faces as I described the island's population density.
Above all, travelling alone takes you to that one place no one else has access to: your self. You learn so much more about who you are, what you're capable of. Afraid of getting lost? Can't speak the language? Too bad. Learn how to communicate with your hands, a pen and paper, or your body. Outside the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, I was a second away from choo-chooing around the bus stop after several attempts to get directions to the train station were going nowhere.
Solo travel for me allows me to break out of my shell, even if by a whisker. I consider doing things I ordinarily wouldn't (mostly legal of course) back in Singapore. I'm generally not a very sociable person, I prefer to stick to people I've already established relationships with. But when push comes to shove, I surprise even myself. In Ljubljana, I met Luka for a road trip after we'd exchanged some messages online. He had suggested showing me Bled, an alpine town about an hour and a half away from the Slovenian capital. I jumped at the opportunity (he had a car so...). I saw another side of the country, and I made a new friend.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and this is true when you're alone on the road. It makes you re-evaluate your relationships with those who matter. Something or the other triggers a memory and takes you back to someone you said goodbye to. The same goes for the country or city you were so eager to leave. You return to it with a new pair of lenses. You add something new, good or bad, to how you perceive that which you always thought familiar.
Most times, none of this would be possible with travelling companions. They distance you from such experiences. You end up being cocooned in your little universe, characterized by checking tourist sites off your list and freezing them in your camera. You could couchsurf with your travel buddy too, but more often than not, especially if you're from Singapore, this option is deemed to be unsafe.
Sometimes it's justified of course because you could easily meet nutcases. But this is where discretion comes into play. If the person you talk to online is giving you bad vibes, you obviously don't go looking for trouble. There was this one fella I was talking to from Prague and it emerged that we're both fans of Converse sneakers. Except in his case, it was not just about collecting or wearing them (I'll leave it to your imagination). Less threatening problems include long layovers at airports. I spent 12 hours between flights at Doha's airport in late 2011. Not something I would want to repeat in a very long time.
The most uncomfortable thing about solo travel for me is pulling out of a city. It is in those final moments that everything tries to hold me back. The seconds slip out of my fingers and it feels as if something has been left undone. It is during this time I wish I could spend more time with the people I've met. Before I boarded my train to Budapest from Cluj-Napoca's railway station, I expressed regret to Luci that I had not gotten to know him better (he was at work for the most part of my time in the city). It was then he said something I have always lived by, and had perhaps forgotten at that point:
there's always a next time.
Indeed. There's always a next meeting, always another adventure to be had.
Postscript: this entry was published on 24th July 2013 on The Hindu's Business Line
Suddenly the excitement and passion with which I had relived my foreign experiences dissipates. I find myself lost for words and offer a meek, 'yes we should do it sometime'. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I don't like company during my escape from the island; it's just that solo travel has opened up so much more. It feels like an epiphany, and I have some friends to thank for that.
One, for example, was very keen on going to China's Xinjiang province in mid-2011. But because ballooning airfares were making the trip increasingly impossible, we changed destinations. Several times. It's 2013 and we have yet to travel together.
Up until 2011, I was content with admiring Nari for her ability to just pack her bags and fly off where she desired. What made it all the more incredible, for me at least, was the fact that she's petite and a girl! I'm not sexist but it did make me think: if she can do it, why not me?
Of course there's the initial apprehension about going it alone: will I get bored, how do I bring myself to eat alone, and -- more importantly -- who's going to take photos of me (especially if you, like me, are one of those who thinks sticking your arm out and aiming the camera at your face is absolutely silly)? As cliched as it is, and like everything else, you won't know until you try solo travel. And the results can be quite surprising.
Travelling alone makes you your own master! You choose how long to take in one place -- you can linger for days, or run off after half an hour. You let everything take its time to slip into your skin -- the sights, the smell, its taste. You make conversation with other people because at some point you simply have to -- be it with the barista in a cafe or a fellow traveller -- think the Ethan Hawke/Julie Delpy starrer, Before Sunrise (1994).
During my solo trips, I've couchsurfed a number of times. The people I met were absolutely amazing and they added so much more to my overall experience, whether it was discovering an un-touristy part of Krakow with Maciek, or walking into an Argentine-run cafe in some corner of Barcelona with Cesar. There's so much more you learn about people, their city and their country when you live with, or simply share some time with them. Conversely, they learn a little more about you too. In Kyiv, Ivan and his friends were amused that they had to zoom in several times before Singapore showed itself in its full glory on Google maps. I still remember the looks on their faces as I described the island's population density.
Above all, travelling alone takes you to that one place no one else has access to: your self. You learn so much more about who you are, what you're capable of. Afraid of getting lost? Can't speak the language? Too bad. Learn how to communicate with your hands, a pen and paper, or your body. Outside the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, I was a second away from choo-chooing around the bus stop after several attempts to get directions to the train station were going nowhere.
Solo travel for me allows me to break out of my shell, even if by a whisker. I consider doing things I ordinarily wouldn't (mostly legal of course) back in Singapore. I'm generally not a very sociable person, I prefer to stick to people I've already established relationships with. But when push comes to shove, I surprise even myself. In Ljubljana, I met Luka for a road trip after we'd exchanged some messages online. He had suggested showing me Bled, an alpine town about an hour and a half away from the Slovenian capital. I jumped at the opportunity (he had a car so...). I saw another side of the country, and I made a new friend.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and this is true when you're alone on the road. It makes you re-evaluate your relationships with those who matter. Something or the other triggers a memory and takes you back to someone you said goodbye to. The same goes for the country or city you were so eager to leave. You return to it with a new pair of lenses. You add something new, good or bad, to how you perceive that which you always thought familiar.
Most times, none of this would be possible with travelling companions. They distance you from such experiences. You end up being cocooned in your little universe, characterized by checking tourist sites off your list and freezing them in your camera. You could couchsurf with your travel buddy too, but more often than not, especially if you're from Singapore, this option is deemed to be unsafe.
Sometimes it's justified of course because you could easily meet nutcases. But this is where discretion comes into play. If the person you talk to online is giving you bad vibes, you obviously don't go looking for trouble. There was this one fella I was talking to from Prague and it emerged that we're both fans of Converse sneakers. Except in his case, it was not just about collecting or wearing them (I'll leave it to your imagination). Less threatening problems include long layovers at airports. I spent 12 hours between flights at Doha's airport in late 2011. Not something I would want to repeat in a very long time.
The most uncomfortable thing about solo travel for me is pulling out of a city. It is in those final moments that everything tries to hold me back. The seconds slip out of my fingers and it feels as if something has been left undone. It is during this time I wish I could spend more time with the people I've met. Before I boarded my train to Budapest from Cluj-Napoca's railway station, I expressed regret to Luci that I had not gotten to know him better (he was at work for the most part of my time in the city). It was then he said something I have always lived by, and had perhaps forgotten at that point:
there's always a next time.
Indeed. There's always a next meeting, always another adventure to be had.
Postscript: this entry was published on 24th July 2013 on The Hindu's Business Line
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