Since I waved an emosh-goodbye to the fam, hopped on a one-way flight to China and waded my way through the sea of people on the Beijing subway, alone, I can honestly say I’ve never felt more alive.
Most people have asked me whether I’m nervous about any of it; travelling solo, eating by myself, not having someone to share my experiences with?
What they don’t realise is… people piss me right off.
I’ll quite happily spend a few days with other folk, until I catch sight of their annoying habits or loud eating – by which time I’ll make a speedy getaway and continue my journey, relieved and on me’ todd.
This trip, for me, isn’t a spur-of-the-moment escape. I’ve diligently saved money, horded travel books and watched ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ on repeat until my eyes bleed, dreaming that one day, it might be me.
As it happens, right now is the perfect time for me to spread my wings and immerse myself in the places I have only ever seen through a cinema screen or read in blogs.
So whether I had someone to share this with or not, I was making damn sure I was doing it before I got married, knocked up and my beloved travel books were bound for a one-way destination; a dusty cupboard under the stairs.
Here’s my take on why going solo is one of the best decisions I have ever made…