Okay, so, solo travel. The idea of it used to make me want to crawl into a hole. I’m generally a pretty social person, always surrounded by friends and family, and the thought of being completely alone, in a new place, with no one to rely on but myself? Terrifying. But, you know, sometimes life throws you a curveball, and suddenly, you’re staring down the barrel of a solo adventure whether you like it or not.
The Pre-Trip Jitters: A Comedy of Errors
Leading up to my trip to Italy – Florence, specifically – I was a complete mess. I’d booked the flight on a whim after a particularly brutal breakup (cliché, I know), and then the reality hit. Who was going to take my Instagram photos? More importantly, who was going to help me navigate the confusing train system? I mean, I can barely parallel park, let alone decipher a timetable in Italian.
I spent weeks agonizing over packing lists, reading countless travel blogs (most of which made me feel even *more* unprepared), and downloading every language learning app known to humankind (Duolingo became my new best friend, even if I only managed to master “Buongiorno!”). I even tried to convince my mom to secretly stow away in my suitcase. No dice. She said something about “needing her own vacation” and “boundaries.” Moms.
The night before my flight, I think I slept maybe two hours. My brain was a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios: getting lost, getting robbed, accidentally ordering something inedible (which, let’s be honest, is a real fear of mine). I was convinced I’d made a terrible mistake. Was it too late to sell the tickets? Probably. Ugh, what a mess!
Arriving in Florence: From Panic to… Well, Less Panic
Stepping off the plane in Florence was like walking into a movie. The air smelled like espresso and something vaguely floral, the buildings were stunning, and the sheer volume of people was overwhelming. I immediately felt a wave of… panic. I couldn’t find the bus to my Airbnb, my Italian was limited to “pizza” and “grazie,” and my phone was almost dead.
After a frantic search and a lot of pointing, I finally managed to locate the right bus. I squeezed in, luggage and all, feeling like a sweaty, disoriented sardine. It was about then I thought, “What in the world have I gotten myself into?”. The bus ride itself was an adventure. I was crammed next to a woman who was having a very loud phone conversation (in Italian, naturally) and trying desperately not to make eye contact with the guy across the aisle who seemed overly interested in my backpack.
But then, something shifted. As the bus rumbled through the city, I started to notice the details. The way the light hit the Duomo, the old men playing cards in a piazza, the vibrant colors of the buildings. It was beautiful. And for the first time, I felt a flicker of… excitement.
My Solo Mishaps and Unexpected Discoveries
My first few days were a mix of hilarious mishaps and genuine moments of awe. I got completely lost trying to find the Uffizi Gallery (twice!), accidentally ordered a plate of tripe (I do *not* recommend it), and almost tripped over a cobblestone street trying to take a selfie. I am not built for selfies.
But I also stumbled upon hidden gardens, ate the most incredible gelato of my life (pistachio, obviously), and spent hours wandering through museums, completely lost in the art. One afternoon, I found a tiny, unassuming restaurant tucked away on a side street. I sat outside, ordered a glass of wine, and watched the world go by. It was perfect. And you know, it was something I wouldn’t have experienced if I had company. I would’ve been too busy trying to make small talk to notice anything.
Funny thing is, it was at that moment that I really started to enjoy being alone. There was a freedom in it, a sense of liberation that I’d never experienced before. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, without having to compromise or consider anyone else’s preferences. It’s kind of like…total autonomy.
The Unexpected Perks of Being Alone
Being solo forced me to step outside my comfort zone. I had to talk to strangers (terrifying at first, but ultimately rewarding), navigate unfamiliar situations, and rely on my own instincts. I learned to trust myself in a way I never had before.
I also discovered that people are generally kind and helpful. I met a lovely couple from Canada who gave me tips on the best places to eat, a local artist who showed me his studio, and a group of students who invited me to join them for drinks. These encounters enriched my experience in ways I never could have imagined.
And honestly, the peace and quiet were amazing. No one to argue with about where to go for dinner, no one to snore in the hotel room, just pure, unadulterated solitude. I had time to reflect, to journal, to simply be present in the moment. It was incredibly restorative.
Would I Do It Again? Absolutely.
Looking back, my solo trip to Florence was one of the most transformative experiences of my life. It wasn’t always easy. There were moments of loneliness, frustration, and sheer panic. But it pushed me to grow, to learn, and to discover a strength within myself that I didn’t know I possessed.
If you’re even remotely considering solo travel, I say go for it. It’s scary, yes, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. Embrace the uncertainty, the mishaps, and the unexpected discoveries. You might just surprise yourself. And if you’re as curious as I was about where to start planning, you might want to dig into travel blogs focused on solo female travel. They are a treasure trove of helpful tips and resources.
Who knows, maybe I’ll see you out there on the road (or in a quaint Italian café, sipping espresso). Just promise you’ll say hi!
