Re-Entry and the Solo Traveler

I've been traveling solo for sixteen days. Oh, I didn't lose my traveling companions or get lost along the way. This - being alone - is how I intended to spend my time, how I intended to travel. It's how I always intend to travel. In fact, I can't recall the last time I actually travelled with someone. Like on a plane or train or...hell...even in a car for any distance and certainly not with an overnight stay. Somewhere along the line, I stopped. I guess. Or maybe it's that I never really started.

I spent the majority of my younger adulthood traveling to visit family and occasionally friends on one side of the country or another. California, Michigan, Minnesota, Washington, Nevada. And I always seemed to go alone. And why wouldn't I? Yeah, I had a series of girlfriends (sort of) but few serious enough to warrant meeting my family. Or friends for that matter. It's just how it was.

And incidentally how it still is. Now, though, it's purposeful. I enjoy being alone, traveling alone. I love not having to answer to anyone, slow down for anyone, or even talk to anyone. I can eat what and when I want, sleep when I want, run when I want, sightseeing when I want, write when I want. All the what's and when's and where's and how's are completely at my disposal.

Don't I miss it? Companionship? I guess there are moments like when I feel like I'm on the verge of being lost that it would be nice to have a second opinion. Where we supposed to turn left? Which way is north? That kind of thing. 100 percent of the time I've figured it out on my own, so while another voice in the mix might be nice it's certainly not necessary.

Lord, voice. Let's stop there for a moment. Yes, I work retail and yes, I have to talk a lot. But here's the thing. I don't like it. Any of it. I much prefer the silence of my own thoughts to anything that involves another human being speaking. Any human being. Pick one. Any one. Yep, even her. I would still rather spend my days not talking, not listening, not responding, not any of it. Zippo. None. Remember I travel to non-English speaking countries for a reason - It exponentially decreases my chances of having to speak (except when placing an order or buying something). Small talk and idle chitchat, the banes of my existence, disappear completely. It's sheer heaven.

I get that I'm different. I get that most people couldn't do what I do even for a couple hours, much less two-plus weeks. I see the looks from my fellow travelers (none of whom are alone, by the way). They fall into a couple main categories -

• Pity...as in "Oh poor thing. Just look at her. All alone. She must not have a family or any friends." I actually have all of the above. I just prefer me to any of them. And my family and friends respect me enough to let me go my own way.

• Skepticism...as in "She'll never make it. She'll be crying on the phone to home before the day is out." Hasn't happened yet. I hope you didn't bet money on it. 

• Awe...as in "Holy shit, I could never do that!" Yeah, you probably could. Or maybe you really can't. Only you can know. 

• Ignorance...as in they actually ignore me. Hosts and servers in restaurants are particularly good at this. I guess they assume I'm waiting for the rest of my party. Nope. Table for one. One? Yes. Huh? It's just me. Really? Yes. Oh, this way. I'm shuffled to a table out of the way. I mean what if I have a communicable disease? I don't, for the record. Introversion isn't contagious. 

Well, anyway... It's been a blissful two weeks. It always is. Now comes the hard part. Re-entry. I usually start thinking about it a couple days early, about the time I arrange my ride home from the airport. Fuck. People. I'm going to have to do people. And that's when the anxiety begins to seep in. I know it's hard to understand (Most people can't comprehend anything they can't or won't directly experience), but I have spent the last sixteen days (It'll be almost nineteen days by the time I land in Austin Tuesday evening) not speaking. I did begrudgingly talk to others on a few occasions - on two organized day trips (the exact reason why I have been loathe to do any in the past) and to my Air BnB host (the exact reason why I usually stay in hotels). Otherwise, I have minimized contact and conversation as much as possible.

Now, in a few short days, I have to return to my normal existence. To twelve hour work days, endless chatter, dogs that need to potty in the middle of the night, TV shows saved on the DVR, bills that require paying, people, idle chitchat, alarms that go off far too early, the heat of the central Texas spring. I'll have to talk, speak, listen, understand, and a million other little things that go along with being a human in the real world. And all I will want to do is the impossible - run away. That's why I've already started planning for my fall vacation. I have to. My sanity depends on it. 

People often ask if there's anything I miss while I'm gone. Actually.....the sad fact is.......I don't. I don't miss anything or anyone. Especially since my Air BnB in Croatia has a washing machine. In years past, I've missed clean laundry. Can't say that this year. So, no. Nothing. I don't miss a thing. Does that mean I could leave forever and never look back? Probably. I guess I'd have to change out my clothes for the different seasons. I'd miss shorts when it got too hot and sweaters when it got too cold. That's about all I can think of. I have all the human contact I need via text, phone, email, and social media. Yeah, I'm sure I'd pop in for visits with my family and a few select friends a couple times a year.......but that's about all I do now anyway. 

I know traveling alone isn't for everyone. For me, though, it's heaven. It's home. It's when and where and how I feel truly at my best. For three weeks a year. October can't come soon enough.