I just came back from my first ever solo trip (yes, solo) and my friend asked me the next afternoon: "How was it like? Were you happy, really happy having taken this [solo] trip? Do you want to go again?"
It was fun and I was happy!
But there's a chain of quite different feelings strung together behind the word happy, which constitute my feeling of happiness.
But there's a chain of quite different feelings strung together behind the word happy, which constitute my feeling of happiness.
There will be no sugary words in this post so you can expect realistic, honest feelings that I have about solo travelling. To sum it up, it felt like a dream. Okay, a realistic kind of dream.
1. I asked myself, "What the hell are you doing out here alone far away from home? Why do you want to do this, really?" when my plane was about to land - when my destination country spread out before me in a stretch of lights amidst the dark.
It was almost midnight and it was quite tiring to be sitting inside the plane for hours, especially when you couldn't really sleep even though you hadn't slept really well the night before. But at that time, it struck me hard, those thoughts, all the why's. I wasn't scared at what would unfold later - I was only confused - and bewildered rather than amazed at how hardheaded I was for having gone out to some extent to carry out the once-only-a-daydream plan of going alone, while I could just stay at home.
2. Then the thought transformed itself: "It feels like I've been doing this since a long time ago."
I don't know why! It just felt that way naturally ever since the very first day I woke up completely in a new surrounding, a feeling I somehow got familiarized with without me being actually conscious of the process. I had to rely on myself and take care of everything - my own safety, as well as checking and carrying my belongings, making sure nothing was forgotten every time I checked out from one place to the next, making plans and deciding routes, memorizing or mentally noting down station names or bus stops and where I should get off - making sure that I was in a good condition; resting when needed and eating properly, taking vitamins and not forcing myself to go all out and fill my itinerary to the brim.
Well. I'd initially thought I'd be all tenacious and rigid about all that, like consciously and constantly self-disciplining myself. BUT it surprisingly turned out the opposite. I didn't need any reminder or self-discipline, I just knew what I would need and what I had to do (common sense is definitely important). I became well acquainted with myself and here's one thing I didn't expect: I really enjoyed this solo time - the time when I had to entirely depend on myself. I couldn't recall being panic or overly anxious over unexpected matters - such as when I missed my train stop in the countryside. Even if I did feel slightly anxious, it was replaced immediately by thoughts of what course of action I needed to do next. But overall, I just enjoyed the journey in its entirety, not only the good times but also the surprise (both favorable or unfavorable surprises) and it felt just natural, like I've done this before I guess.
Which is strange.
When I think about it some more, maybe I was just comfortable with myself and thus with every situation I was in. I felt like I have always been solo travelling (even though it was my very first time), so funny eh.
Regardless, I don't know if it would feel exactly the same when I do this again for the second time, to and in a different country. A different setting might spark a different feeling.
3. It's true when they say that you'll get chances to have more conversations with locals, but despite of that... you'll still feel loneliness.
Seriously. I've had a number of random but pleasant conversations with locals/non-locals in expected/quite unexpected times and places during my solo trip. I don't think I had had more than one when I'd come to Japan last time with friends, and that in itself said a lot.
But as much as you enjoy your solo trip, you're bound to feel loneliness (even the slightest) at some point after all. It's quite natural - at least for me because it's my first time solo traveling. And I'm never an extrovert to begin with. You see the queue to the museum or to the cable car full of couples or groups but you queue alone. You get to see wonderful places but you can't share your sentiments with someone. You see people talking to each other in the restaurant or in the park but you have to sit alone. Japan fortunately has a lot of restaurants with single-sitting tables and it's not uncommon to be eating out alone - such as in those restaurants with meal ticket vending machines or standing restaurants. But even Yoshinoya's oftentimes filled with solo customers.
Anyway, yes, it's admittedly quite a lonely venture indeed.
And to continue to point no. 4,
4. I felt a little bit awkward at first; but then I became too busy to notice or continue dwelling in such emotion.
Because there was just so so so much to see and do out there that before I knew it, loneliness became a minor feeling, almost nonexistent.
Magome-juku's surrounding mountains
Tofuku-ji Temple, Kyoto
The Akashi Kaikyo Bridge, the world's longest suspension bridge, connects Kobe to Awaji Island
Kobe Harborland
Nara Park, bambi paradise
A tranquil river in Kanazawa
Enjoying the autumn foliage in Matsumoto city, from Matsumoto Castle. Like a princess :P
Town of Tateyama, Toyama Prefecture. So peaceful I wanted to take a nap under that cluster of trees in the middle. Perfect weather with light breeze and warm tint and hues of a not too bright sunlight.
Eventually I just had to be cool about it - and besides nobody knew me anyway. The person behind me in the queue didn't know me so why should I feel awkward? The feeling of being anonymous evolved into something like an euphoria at the thought of being able to do anything with my own will.
Once you start to feel at ease with yourself, it'll just get better. That's all there is.
5. One major drawback is that you don't have friends to take a picture of you.
Well, you can always use a tripod or a selfie stick. Or ask someone to take a picture of you. I learned how to make such request in the local language but still, you can't really ask for more retakes than necessary if you don't like your angle and in some occasions you don't always have a chance to ask so... in the end, you'd better equip yourself with your tripod or selfie stick. Or a set of wide lens for your smartphones.
I'm not crazy of having my photo taken at every place though, but at least having a decent selfie is nice.
I'm not crazy of having my photo taken at every place though, but at least having a decent selfie is nice.
One fine day in Kanazawa
6. Still, I didn't have to wait for anyone and that's quite a liberating feeling.
I didn't have to wait for my friends or family members to wake up, and I didn't have to wait for my turn to take a bath. I could do as I please, take a bath as long as I wanted, scatter my belongings around for all I care, yes I didn't have to be deceptively decent with my neatness XD I had a space of my own and that felt incredible.7. I could still spend time meaningfully.
It felt like time didn't go too quickly or even slowly - during my trip. This definitely doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy my time there - you know, like how time seems to stretch out long when you wait for an hourly bus to come because the wait itself is excruciatingly unpleasant as the weather's temperature continues to drop.
No, nothing like that.
What I meant by saying, "time didn't go too quickly or even slowly" is that... I could really live in the present moment.
Strolling around Kinosaki Onsen Town
I woke up at 6.30 a.m. in the morning without an alarm. I turned on the TV, preparing and boiling some water for my morning coffee and then enjoying it in the balcony of the apartment I was renting for the next 3 days while the TV was still on inside. It was cold sitting in the balcony early in Autumn morning because it had been raining the night before, but it didn't matter. I really liked the tranquil (albeit cold) morning. The grayish sky, the after-rain smell, my warm mug of coffee in my grip and of course the feel of my sweater against my skin. It felt so blissful.
The view from my rented apartment's balcony in Ebisu. I'd go to this balcony after a tiring day of exploring (or a day trip) and just looked down at the warm, homey-looking restaurant adjacent to the small apartment. It might be in an alley but oftentimes there were people occupying the tables here, staying til late at night, enjoying their drinks.
Actually I really took my time everyday before heading out, checking out some routes for that day while also watching some local news I could barely understand and whatever; but in the end I always left quite early, around 9 a.m. or a little bit more, without really rushing things. It was... kinda different from how it usually feels when I travel with my friends or family. Going solo, I could set my pace everyday, and change it the way I wanted it to be. I could feel every moment and actually be in it; instead of going through them in a series of blur films.
Which also brings me to the next point:
8. I somehow felt like a local, and it was a rewarding experience.
I slept on the train rides. I sat in front of the station together with other locals just to chill out, or for a brief moment just to check some direction before continuing my trip, or for a session of people-watching. I read ebook and ate snacks in the park, I read magazines in the convenient stores. A kindergarten teacher leading a group of kindergarten kids greeted me while I gobbled up a delicious ice cream taiyaki and I greeted back cheerfully while making some kids lining up behind him envy with my slightly exaggerated eating (which was done deliberately to show off that I had a delicious taiyaki in hand while they didn't XD). When I felt the day was particularly tiring I could just go back earlier than usual to my place of stay and took a long bath and watched dramas til late at night while having dinner. Somehow, it made me feel less a foreigner or a tourist.
Those mundane things and the ordinariness of it made it all the more special.
9. I felt grateful for the smallest things
For almost everything starting from the smallest to the biggest, and there are many that I regarded myself as lucky. Starting from the beginning, despite my late night arrival (10.20 p.m., I think) + long immigration queues + long wait at the baggage claim area to pick up my luggage, I felt grateful I was able to get on the shuttle bus in time to the domestic terminal, where I was going to stay the night (I planned to stay at the quite affordable accommodation inside the domestic terminal) because If I didn't, a. I had to wait for another hour and 40 minutes for the last shuttle bus. b. I could also take a taxi, which would cost me approximately 1000 yen only to get to the domestic terminal. And that is expensive! I remember walking down the escalator fast and I could see the shuttle bus I meant to take was waiting outside, its middle door closing. I broke into run as fast as my luggage allowed me to and thanks God the female driver was so kind as to wait for me (yes, me alone) and I eventually managed to get on.
I also felt grateful that the kochias in Hitachi seaside park are in full red when I visited. I was afraid when I came they were no longer in season since the website said it was in season until mid-October - and I came slightly later than mid-Oct. I can't believe I made it in time. They really made a beautifully stunning, surreal-kind of landscape and I enjoyed strolling around the kocia and cosmos flower hills immensely.
When I went to Kobe for the first time, I meant to drop by at the hostel I booked firsthand to put my luggage and backpack; but I mistakenly took the wrong station exit and turns and consequently I couldn't see any described landmarks mentioned in the hostel's instruction direction detail. I didn't have a pocket WiFi with me at that time (it was sent to this hostel later on that day) hence couldn't locate it with maps. But it turned out, the direction I happened to take was still the right direction to my hostel - only it was a detour. When I made a final turn solely by hunch, there the hostel I booked was in sight.
And I grinned in triumph. Because it felt like winning over a bet placed against me claiming that I'd get lost for sure.
The goddess of luck also gifted me with a crisp and nice weather on the D-day of my trip to the majestic range of Tateyama. Because you see, I kept checking Tateyama's weather forecast since a week to 3 days prior to D-day and it was always predicted to be raining. I guess I was lucky! I could see Shomyo Fall from the distance thanks to the clear weather, and I was able to enjoy the sublime and vividly scenic route of Tateyama-Kurobe along the way and hike with peace of mind.
The beginning of the hiking trail in Murodo
I grew up playing Final Fantasy so hiking in Murodo felt like journeying through the land of Gaia or Spira. Who knows if there were any chocobos roaming down the highland or better yet, a chocobo forest at the foot of the mountain??
Actually some part of the trails were quite narrow and slippery due to the frozen snow in between the cracks; and some were muddy. The constant strong winds were always trying to catch your hat but nonetheless it was a really pleasant weather - the pleasant cold kind of weather. It was freezing in late October but the stunning vista stretched out all the way as far as eyes could see was way more than enough to compensate for the cold. I was glad it wasn't raining, and I was glad I could see greens instead of snow, which all I would see if I were to go here in April. When it comes to mountain or highland, I'm someone who prefers to see a burst of colors; a different shade of soothing greens or a mosaic of vibrant autumn colors, instead of boring white snow.
Talking about another thing I was thankful for, I was compelled to feel grateful for the hotel room they gave me at Matsumoto Ace Inn. I requested a room at the higher floor (I was given the option to choose so I chose the higher floor) and they gave me the one at 11th floor. I realized though in the next morning I couldn't see any sunrise from my room; but instead, what greeted me was something else:
A rainbow! Just in time. Because if I woke up only slightly later I'd have missed it entirely.
And... what else?
I felt grateful for the chance to talk to a number of wonderful people along the way despite our language barrier and my little understanding of Japanese - some were locals who kept speaking to me in Japanese and some were thank God moderately/fluently able to speak English, while some were non-Japanese. Random chats did matter, really. I was also grateful to God for giving me a chance to do this trip without having any significant hindrance or obstacle, for having my sore throat magically cured in one night, and to the kind old man who helped me put my suitcase on the compartment above (it was heavy) during a train ride and took it down for me before he got off himself - and he did them all without me actually asking him to do it. And I was grateful for getting the key chain I really wanted from a gachapon draw XD. And for stumbling on a chance to watch a protest in Nakano, Tokyo; which is a rare sight for a foreigner like me :|
And one rare thing: I got 3 seats all to myself on my flight back home! My right hip was actually hurting a bit - which I suspected firstly triggered by my "climb" up the steep and narrow sets of stairs at Matsumoto Castle the day before (the steepest set of stairs to the highest level of the castle was built at over a 60 degree angle, FYI) - then coupled with all the walks I did afterwards in Tokyo - from Nishi-Nippori to Yanaka to Nakano to Jimbocho and to Ueno. By the time I got on the plane and found out there was no one who would occupy the seats next to me, I could only blink. Because all the other seats were full save for me and the other 2 lucky fellows, each with 3 seats to ourselves, that a middle-age lady sitting in the next row was blatantly looking at me and the empty seats next to me with utmost envy. Heck yeah I could stretch my feet and sleep on my sides!
So anyway, in conclusion,
And... what else?
I felt grateful for the chance to talk to a number of wonderful people along the way despite our language barrier and my little understanding of Japanese - some were locals who kept speaking to me in Japanese and some were thank God moderately/fluently able to speak English, while some were non-Japanese. Random chats did matter, really. I was also grateful to God for giving me a chance to do this trip without having any significant hindrance or obstacle, for having my sore throat magically cured in one night, and to the kind old man who helped me put my suitcase on the compartment above (it was heavy) during a train ride and took it down for me before he got off himself - and he did them all without me actually asking him to do it. And I was grateful for getting the key chain I really wanted from a gachapon draw XD. And for stumbling on a chance to watch a protest in Nakano, Tokyo; which is a rare sight for a foreigner like me :|
And one rare thing: I got 3 seats all to myself on my flight back home! My right hip was actually hurting a bit - which I suspected firstly triggered by my "climb" up the steep and narrow sets of stairs at Matsumoto Castle the day before (the steepest set of stairs to the highest level of the castle was built at over a 60 degree angle, FYI) - then coupled with all the walks I did afterwards in Tokyo - from Nishi-Nippori to Yanaka to Nakano to Jimbocho and to Ueno. By the time I got on the plane and found out there was no one who would occupy the seats next to me, I could only blink. Because all the other seats were full save for me and the other 2 lucky fellows, each with 3 seats to ourselves, that a middle-age lady sitting in the next row was blatantly looking at me and the empty seats next to me with utmost envy. Heck yeah I could stretch my feet and sleep on my sides!
So anyway, in conclusion,
10. I don't mind doing it again
Admittedly I surprised myself a bit by doing this trip; and now looking back, I still am. Because it wasn't until recently that I thought of traveling solo - it had never occurred to me before to go to anywhere alone for a holiday. That said, I'm not proclaiming myself that I'd become a solo traveler starting from today - no. I don't mind traveling in a small group or bigger group of people; I guess each travel style has its own perks and moments and traveling solo turns out to be really fun too. But I'd gladly take a chance to go on a solo trip again later, because, really, why not? It's a mind- and eye-opener, a kinda addictive experience and it feels nice, coming back from the trip brimful with stories and pictures to share. Especially when those stories solely belong to you alone XD
On a closing note...
If it is ever crossed your mind to solo travel, I hope you too have the courage to go and find out yourself if you like it or not. The thought to solo travel was 100% a whim in my case, a sudden tease on my mind but I'm definitely happy to have followed this whim and eventually found out how it feels like. Perhaps it is not an easy choice for you; granted, solo travel is not for everyone, and there should be a number of personal considerations on your part. But just remember,
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