News, Plans, and What I've Learned About Solo Travel

Hello readers! It’s wonderful to arrive in your inbox once again. I’d like to share with you some of my news and plans for this newsletter. I’m excited to feel myself shifting more into a new life, easing my way out of limbo and into something that is only beginning to take shape. Jessie Harrold encourages women in transition to make “tiny little experiments” as they move out of limbo into their new lives, sorting out what feels right, what sticks, and what maybe seems bright and shiny in the moment but turns out to be just a detour from where you really want to go.

My current experiments include staying put in Edinburgh for a while, where I’ve been since leaving Berlin on April 23. I’ll be here until July 31, when the rent triples due to festival month in August. This experiment has been working wonderfully! I love Edinburgh and my flat and am finding the energy and focus to have a writing routine as well as getting to know more people here.

The view from my kitchen table, where I’m sitting now writing this. The picture doesn’t do it justice. I can see the spired skyline over the trees from the Edinburgh Castle to the mountain Arthur’s Seat.

My days are much less exciting now, which is why I haven’t written in a while and why my IG and FB posts have been fewer. But slowing down has definitely benefitted my mind and body.

Another experiment is that I’ve started writing something that feels like it could be a book. We’ll see. Part of that project includes reflecting on what it means to be a woman writer, which leads me to . . . my plans for this newsletter, another experiment that I’m quite excited about. I wrote a post a while back about “What It Takes to be a (Woman) Writer,” in which I felt I was barely scratching the surface of my thoughts on the subject.

I’ve spent three decades studying women writers and their lives, and now I’m embarking on my own journey as a woman writer (by which I mean a more creative, rather than academic, writer). So the focus of my in-depth letters for paid subscribers will shift to reflections on women’s writing lives, past and present. I’ll be bringing in insights and inspiration from women writers of the past and musing on what it means to be a woman writer today, responding to what I’m reading and sharing my own experiences.

For a taste of what’s to come, you can read the letter I linked to above, if you haven’t already, which was free to all subscribers. And/or you can read my last letter for paid subscribers, “Our Fascinations with Women of the Past,” in which I reflect on my fascination with Kay Boyle and why I’ve tabled writing her biography, for now.

Here is a piece of it:

I heard a biographer say recently to a room full of other biographers, “We feel happiest living someone else’s life [and being] absorbed in someone else’s life, unlike autobiographers.”

She had put her thumb on what makes a good biographer—that desire to escape from oneself into someone else’s life. Maybe there are things in our own lives we’d rather avoid. Or maybe it’s simply that our lives aren’t quite as interesting as we’d like them to be. And there is no question that immersing oneself in a biography-worthy subject can be exciting. Sometimes, you’re virtually on the edge of your seat as you read an exchange of letters or uncover clues to a long-hidden secret. 

But something about Kay, or me, or the combination of Kay and me, has made me dissatisfied with the self-avoidance and self-neglect—maybe even self-erasure—that writing a biography requires.

Over the course of those of years that Kay Boyle was taking hold in my mind, I also found new parts of myself that had been silent for a long time starting to speak up. I became dissatisfied with how I was living. I wanted more from life. I looked at how deeply Kay had lived, how full her life had been, and I started to hear a voice in my ear, “When you are on your deathbed, how will you know that you have really lived?”

Finally, as I move out of constant travel mode, I’d like to share with you some of my reflections on the past 9 months of travel. It grew out of a writing exercise using the list format to explain your project or what you’ve learned about something.

Solo hiker on the Isle of Skye

What I’ve Learned About Solo Travel

1.      It’s just you! You are the driver of you own car, figuratively and sometimes literally. There is no companion to help you figure out which exit to take from the roundabout or which subway to take. But there is also no one second-guessing the route you are taking or getting frustrated when you miss that exit on the roundabout. Your mistakes are your own, and you have only yourself to blame when you get on the wrong subway. Also, that awkward back-and-forth of deciding where to eat or what to do for the day? Blissfully non-existent. No compromising necessary. You can do whatever you damn well please!

2.      As a solo female traveler, you are a bit of a novelty. Although more women are traveling solo, most women are afraid to, so you might feel conspicuous at times. But because you are a novelty, people are curious and will generally enjoy talking to you. They may ask if you are afraid to travel alone, how you like it, and that sort of thing. Many women are still quite fearful of traveling by themselves. A woman in France asked me if I was afraid to be traveling toute seule, and I wanted to say, have you ever been to the gun-saturated U.S.? I was afraid in New Orleans every day, whether I was alone or not.

3.      When you do encounter another solo female traveler, generally you’ve found someone to hang with for a while. This happened to me when I attended a cooking class made up entirely of couples and then myself and one another woman. We sat next to each other, chatted quite a bit, and at the end of the evening she suggested we meet up some time, which we did. She gave me a lovely tour of parts of Berlin I hadn’t seen yet. This also happened when I was on a day tour of the Isle of Skye, and another female solo traveler and I found we had much in common. She ended up inviting me to visit her in Hamburg if ever make it that way.

4.      You will notice that everyone else is paired off. Sometimes, this can make you feel like a bit of a loser at times. Other times, you are so relieved not to be part of one of those couples who stare out the window and have no idea what to say to each other over dinner. Or worse, one of those couples who are walking about 10 feet apart from each other and are clearly in the middle of a tense argument. At those times, you will revel in your solitude and may even notice the envious glances of other women stuck in their coupledom.

5.      You will miss your girlfriends. When you’re having a coffee or a light lunch at a nice little café, there will likely be a group or a pair of women deep in conversation at one of the tables nearby, and you will wish you could have a nice long chat with one of your besties as well. When that happens, send out a bunch of texts and feel the pleasure of reconnection. Send them pictures, ask about their lives, and make plans to catch up via video chat some evening when you’re hanging alone in your apartment or hotel room.

6.      Eating solo in public is not that bad! You only think people are pitying you when you sit at a table in a restaurant and eat your meal all alone. They don’t really care. And you shouldn’t either. It can be a real relief not to have small talk and to be able to read the novel you are into, or if you’re outside, watch the people passing by.

My fabulous solo meal at La Coupole in Paris. Kay Boyle was a regular there.

7.      Take notes! Write as much as you can about what you’re seeing and, perhaps more importantly, what you are thinking and feeling. When you go to a restaurant, bring a notebook with you and take notes about your day. Write about what you notice around you and the conversations you overhear. Become the observer who takes it all in. A couple of weeks ago I had a lovely time on the terrace of the botanical gardens café, watching the various children in pursuit of the ducks waddling around in search of dropped scraps. Their different approaches (varying from respectful delight to impatient grasping) provided much fodder for reflection.

8.      Use your camera, but sparingly. It’s tempting to take pictures of everything, get that perfect selfie, and construct an elaborate post for social media. People love seeing you on your travels and traveling vicariously through you. But keep it simple. A few shots and a short bit of text. Otherwise, you’re missing out on your own experiences. I’ve seen so many travelers obsessed with their phones and with getting perfect shots. Once I was asked to take photos of a woman dressed for the camera, not her own comfort, posing like a model in front of castles. Sure, I’ll take a few shots of you, and then while you stare at your phone, I’m going in to see the castle.

9.      Bringing along a full library of books on your e-reader sounds like a great idea, but really you just want to hold onto a book. Pick up a book, new or used, and dig in. Carry it with you everywhere and read it while you’re on the subway or waiting in an airport. Then when you’re done, leave it behind or donate it to a charity shop and buy a new book. That way you’re only carrying around one (or two), and you get all the pleasure of having a good book as a companion.

My current read. I’m dipping in and out of it at the moment. I’ll have more to say about it in a future letter.

10.  Clothes: It’s much simpler if you bring clothes that all generally match each other. Don’t think outfits but mix-and-match pieces. I’ve been sticking with navy, black, gray, blue, and green for the most part. They all go together and I can feel like I’m not wearing the same few things all the time.

11.  Packing for a longer trip: If you are traveling across seasons or between countries where you will encounter different climates, pack for the first part of your trip, and then you can buy new clothes as the weather changes. Charity shops, which are ubiquitous throughout the UK, are your best bet, or any used clothing store. And you can simply donate your old clothes before you pack up and move on to your next destination.

12.  Shoes: Buy yourself a good pair of hiking shoes, plain black and fairly inconspicuous so they are versatile, and wear them every day, because you will need them to feel comfortable on all of the cobblestones you will encounter everywhere. I have fallen twice, once spraining my ankle, a light sprain only. Considering that I’ve been traipsing around Europe for 9 months, that’s not bad. The sidewalks and streets are frankly a mess in most places, sometimes with huge gaps between the stones you can easily turn your ankle in (Berlin was the worst!), and I’d rather have sure footing than look fashionable.

If you’ve spent time traveling solo, I’m curious to know what you’d add to this list. What have your experiences been like? What did you find hardest or most pleasant?

As always, I enjoy hearing from you. I hope you are enjoying fabulous summer weather wherever you are and that you can get out an enjoy. It’s been glorious here for weeks, but now the rain is returning. I knew this couldn’t be how Scottish summers always are.

Until next time,

Anne

anneboydrioux.com