Life Isn't Always a Bowl of Cherries: Managing Travel Loneliness
I'll never forget being stranded in northern Uganda, having hurt my leg and watched two days' worth of postal buses barrel by, full. I knew no one, and no one wanted to know me.
I sat in my decrepit room, filled with geckos and flying insects slamming against the chipped turquoise wall, wondering: What am I doing here?
I missed my family, my friends, my life in general... I was feeling sorry for myself and wondered why I'd ever left home in the first place. Solo travel was not looking good.
That evening a seat was found for me on a bus, I arrived at my destination and magically found the people who were supposed to meet me two days earlier, went to a Mexican restaurant (yes, in northwestern Uganda!) and next thing you know, I'm having the time of my life, grateful to be here, and excited about my next journey - to follow in the footsteps of mountain gorillas.
How quickly things change...
Stroke of luck!
Luck can play a big part in dissipating that solo travel loneliness, but you don't have to wait for luck. There are plenty of things you can to get rid of that lonely feeling when it strikes. I've tried all these and they do work - or I would have gone home long before I did.
The most important thing for me is to have a routine. I get up at the same time every day, and do the same things in the same order. It keeps me sane, and keeps things familiar. I also carry around a few (tiny) things with me - a small leather frame with photos of my family, a tiny statue that belonged to my mother, that kind of thing.
Then get out and meet people! This may seem obvious but you'd be surprised how often it's the last thing I think of when I'm feeling blue. If you're in a hostel, hang around the lobby - approach other solo travelers and ask if they'd like to hang out for a few hours. Go to second-hand bookshops - you'll find plenty of backpackers there. Strike up a conversation over a book. Go to church if you're so inclined.
Get on a bus and pull out a map. Look around and look lost. This has worked for me on the streets of Kobe, Japan, in Jakarta, Indonesia and in Rio. People usually choose to be helpful when they can. Pulling out the map will also work on a street corner if you look bewildered enough.
Grab your guidebook and go to eateries they recommend. Look around the tables. Approach people with the same guidebooks who look friendly and sit next to them. Nine times in ten, you'll strike up a conversation. It may not go anywhere, but you'll spend an agreeable mealtime meeting someone new.
Put a note up in the local backpacker's café - most towns on the backpacker circuit have one. You can even post something on one of the many electronic travel forums and hope for an immediate answer. Reach out to other solo travelers.
Seek out like-minded women - take a course, learn to cook, go see art, go to a concert... if you like something, chances are those present are also there because they like the art/music/course.
Go where women gather. Go to the marketplace or to the wash house or river bend. Just being foreign can arouse curiosity. Make sure you bring your phrase book! Take their picture. Show them pictures of your family - especially children (yours, nieces, nephews...). Show them a postcard of where you live. They might invite you back to where they live!
Find ways of keeping in touch with those you love. Duck into the nearest internet café or phone booth - and call home! There's no shame in reaching out when on solo travel. For years on the road I called my mother once a month, like clockwork. In the early days of independent travel, even once a month was hard. Finding an international phone in Burma or China as recently as 10 years ago not a straightforward affair.
And if you really really don't want to be alone, it might be time for you to seek out some male or female travel companions - who may happen to be feeling just like you and might want a short break from solo travel.
In the end, loneliness is a state of mind. You can choose to fight it, you can deal with it, or - as I prefer to do - you can embrace it and make it yours.
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