19
Apr
2017
14

I admit it, travelling alone sucks

Friends and family rejoice, I finally agree with you.

I have something I need to get off my chest, besides the dead skin caused by lack of personal care on the road.

Here it is.

I’m done with this travelling alone bullshit.

I don’t like it anymore. It’s the pits. Ever since my last lone-wolf trip to India (where I left internally kicking and screaming) I’ve lost my desire to travel solo. I’m not scared, I’m just bored. Tired of having no one to share the experience with and totally over selfies.

Occasionally there are little highs, obviously. Like when you meet French people at breakfast and suddenly you have somewhere to stay in Paris whenever you go next. That’s cool. Paris is overpriced. But apart from that, it’s just become bullocks.

It’s expensive, for one. No one to split your cab with. Or even discuss your suspicion that you’re being blatantly ripped off. I’m always reluctantly paying the full price of the scams.

It’s lonely, for two. Especially when you’re travelling in countries where finding alcohol-serving restaurants on the map is like playing Where’s Winey.

Three, I have no one to palm off the small talk to. Oh my God, how I’m over small talk. I know people are only trying to be nice. But there are only so many times someone like me can pretend to laugh at the same jokes about Aussie Aussie Aussie and Skippy.

Fourthly, there’s too much attention. Why is a girl walking by herself more of a target for strange comments than two girls? The second girl isn’t an invisibility cloak, is she? She’s not carrying a gun. What’s the deal?

Reason the fifth – no one to laugh with. Funny things happen ALL THE TIME when you travel. But when you decide to do it alone you have to sit there feeling appalled about the Chinese woman nonchalantly doing pop offs next to you. A companion to bear witness to such an event would encourage you to absolutely lose it and everyone would have a good time.

Sexy six is you lose motivation to be sexy. Or like, presentable, you know what I mean? When there are people around you who know you, you have a sense of obligation to take mild pride in your appearance. I just realised I didn’t even brush my teeth this morning!

Seven can be about the sense of security you have when you’re stuck in a sticky situation with a pal. At least you’re in it together, right? Sleep on the street if you have to, at least you have a familiar hand to hold. But predicaments are stressful by yourself. I was walking around looking for accommodation, in horrendous heat, for two hours in Chennai. Everyone just kept saying NO and I didn’t know if they hated me or if all twenty hotels were actually fully booked. I ended up staying in a $30 room which is expensive for India. And again, if I had someone to split that cost with…

Eight, one fat lady. I don’t know who to trust. Having a buddy provides a second opinion on matters. Should I go down this dark alley with this man telling me there’s candy at the end? Fat lady would say yes. Buddy would say no.

Maybe I’ve become a bit of a baby in my old age. I’m almost 30, after all. Or perhaps I lost a bit of independence being in a relationship last year. Or who knows, maybe I just like comfort.

Well, I do like comfort. Always have, always will. It’s not a secret, it’s the whole purpose of the blog.

But I also like adventures. Though, at the moment I’m tired of things alien to me. My fingernails are too long. And I just want to join a gym again.

I’m currently in Morocco and I’ve actually loved my time here. First week I was with pals, second week (right now) I’m making the most of an expensive and lonely situation. And trying not to be a bitch.

Home again, home again in three days. Jiggity jig. Stay tuned for my post on Morocco.

DISCLAIMER: Travelling alone doesn’t really suck, well it does, but not always. I recommend it to everyone to try at least once.

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