Travel and the Single Girl

Reconciling wanderlust when there’s no one to wander with.

So you want to go it alone…

I spent a lot of time in my twenties – far too much time some might say – convincing myself that travel was something that would eventually just “happen”. There always seemed to be a perfectly legitimate excuse as to why it hadn’t happened yet. School, finances, other things, always seemed to get in the way, corrupting my desires and my perfectly good wanderlust, placing my want for travel on a very cold backburner. Added to that was a healthy dose of fear. Traveling by yourself just wasn’t safe – far less so as a female, we (the collective) were always told – so you’d better wait until you found the right people to travel with. While I was partnered up with an incredible person for the majority of my twenties, travel was never something we seemed to prioritize. Things always came up until, through no small effort on my part to frame it as “necessary for PhD research”, the potential for travel materialized into something tangible.

But as I’ve come to realize over the past few years, living vicariously through bloggesses like AdventurousKate, fear programming is, as usual, the thing which keeps us from realizing that which we want most.  I’ve also come to realize that, like most things, travel doesn’t just emerge from a wellspring of wishes. It needs a certain amount of effort and forethought, if only to mitigate the financial realities that face most would-be adventurers.

In the last few years as I’ve worked on my PhD, I’ve learned a lot of things. And while I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot of things about my subject matter, the journey has actually been incredibly personal. I’ve subjected myself to far more scrutiny than I’m comfortable with and, in the process, I’ve come to realize that the ability to travel freely is the thing I want most out of life. Many, many, people have other wants, wants which call to them and satisfy them wholeheartedly. In some cases, these are tied to home and hearth and family. And these are all wonderful objectives. But they’re not me. The more I’ve tasted of the world, the more I crave it, and the more I long for the freedom to experience all that the world has to offer. To that end, I’ve spent the last few months struggling to accomplish just that.  Part of the dilemma is, as I’ve noted, struggling with the idea that we (especially we females) “need” someone to travel with us. However the fact is, this is becoming less true in many parts of the world where female-only travel is not only visible but whole-heartedly endorsed via women-only getaways and retreats.  Nina Nooit (2013) has written that “the “dangers of  traveling while female” do not majorly exceed the “dangers of living while female””  and while this fact is simultaneously reassuring and disheartening all at once, it does appear to suggest that the culture of female travel is shifting.

Of course, there are some discourses in feminist literature that would probably critique the need for female-only retreats in the first place. This is something I’ve seen replicated here in Trinidad, where women, even local women, deliberately seek out adventure opportunities that would keep them safe, and particularly keep them safe from men. But the reality is, while there is little to distinguish female travel from female life, there is a bit of a difference in regard to how women and men navigate through a given space, and in many (not all) cases, women are faced with more concerns with regard to their person.

Poking the Bear

Kristin Addis writing for Nomadic Matt demonstrates that, in some cases, these concerns manifest quite humorously:

“As a solo woman I often lack the freedom to travel without locals. In many cultures, females don’t have the kind of autonomy we have in the West, and it can be both worrying and confusing to see me by myself. At 28, I’m already quite ancient for a single woman in many of the countries I’ve traveled to.

In Borneo, a woman came up to me while her husband fixed my flat motorbike tire. “Sister,” she said, “you’re alone? You have no brother, no husband?” While her concern was genuine and appreciated, I get asked this a lot. Surely I have a husband somewhere. Don’t I at least have a boyfriend? Where are my children? What in the heck do I think I am doing?!”

I would be remiss in saying that these questions haven’t been levied against me, even here in Trinidad. The average age of marriage here amongst women is one’s mid-to-late twenties, a milestone which I have long since surpassed. And while I don’t necessarily look my age (thanks, mom!), it has been very difficult for some people to reconcile the notion of a female randomly adventuring on her own, with little else to worry about. As in Addis’ experience, it has been both amusing, and to my detriment, to suggest that I don’t want anyone to worry about, but sometimes, just for the sheer pleasure of it, I like to poke that bear.

And there are benefits to be had from poking that bear, benefits that can go both ways, both for the tourist and for the host country with which she interacts. There is, afterall, something to be said for sharing cultural experiences, even through dialogue. While people may not understand where a solo female traveler is coming from, it may be a point of interest to some, and a cultural eye-opener for others. (And isn’t that where the pleasure of travel truly lies? The pleasure of the shared experience?)

I’ve had some great traveling partners over the last few years, but none that resonated with me perfectly. Let’s be honest: perfection, in that regard, is a pipe-dream. And the older I get, the more I realize that waiting on that perfect travel partner puts my own dreams on hold. Anxiousness over waiting is energy better spent elsewhere. So, if you want to travel with me, by all means do. If not, do excuse me. I’m working on my fear programming and I’ve got a plane to catch.

Pack light!