Observing Life: Travelling alone is how I get the most out of my trips

The heart racing as you get off a plane in a foreign country alone, the thill of changing course from your initial itinerary at the drop of a hat and returning with a suitcase of bizarre, hilarious and heartwarming stories from encounters with strangers has me hooked to leading the life of a solo traveller.

‘Table for one, please.’ That’s generally my ­reservation request at restaurants during a ­holiday overseas – but by the end of the evening I’m often sharing a dessert and experiences with a stranger, and a potential pen pal (is that word still in use in the digital age?) for life.

I began vacationing solo two years ago on a whim. I could no longer wait for the stars to align to arrange a trip that suited all of my girlfriends. So I pulled out a map, stuck a pin in it to choose my first location as a single ­traveller and booked a ticket, without being constrained by other people’s schedules.

When I first shared my plan with family and friends in 2014, there was a mixed bag of reactions and emotions, ranging from sympathy to fear. I was probably viewed as a loner doomed to spending a depressing holiday mostly in my hotel room, or facing a harrowing time trying to stay out of trouble.

Now, though, flying solo is in vogue. In fact, companies and support groups for the single traveller have mushroomed in the last few years.

The feeling of your heart racing as you get off a plane in a foreign country alone; the thrill of changing the course from your planned itinerary at the drop of a hat just because you came across a hidden gem on one of your walks; and random encounters with other travellers who challenge you to step out of your comfort zone – all these things and more besides have kept me hooked on packing for one.

Perhaps my biggest reason for travelling alone is so that I can set my own pace. My trips involve walking around a new city for hours on end, digging out non-touristy haunts and planning a packed schedule of outdoor activities. This, I understand, isn’t everyone’s idea of a relaxing, stress-free holiday.

My other main reason for wanting to travel by myself became apparent when I was waiting in line at a department store in the United States last year.

A fellow shopper and I got talking, and, after exchanging pleasantries, he asked: “Aren’t you afraid of travelling alone? Being a woman in a new country without anyone to fall back on?”

What better way to rub it in the faces of those who believe we are the weaker gender, shackled by a patriarchal social system, can there be than getting out there into the world and doing it all by ourselves in an unfamiliar land?

That’s not to say that I don’t take precautions to stay safe. During my online research ahead of a solo trip to Europe, for example, I came across several cautionary tales from holidayers about pickpockets.

Small safeguards – such as packing light, carrying few valuables while taking public transport, and being present in the moment and not daydreaming as you explore a new location – made me a more self-aware and confident traveller.

It’s important to heed the warnings from other travellers – yet, paradoxically, every trip has also helped renew my faith in humanity. I’ve always found plenty of people who react with compassion and are happy to jump at the opportunity to help a foreign visitor in distress.

Another thing that makes each solo escapade worthwhile is returning with another collection of bizarre, hilarious and heart-warming stories of meetings with residents and other travellers, many of whom I have managed to keep in touch with, thanks to social media.

I think poet John O’Donohue comes closest to expressing the liberating feeling of being a ­single traveller: “When you travel, you find yourself alone in a different way. More attentive now to the self you bring along.”