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.
But to explain in detail, I have to do it from the very beginning of my trip.
