After a few trips to Rhodes and wonderful Greece, I felt the need to leave in search of some corners of an island that I thought I knew all too well. Actually Rhodes hides some white villages perched on the hills, complete with a sea view, where you can enjoy wonderful views, discover unmissable colorful corners and taste some divine local dishes.
I will not dwell too much on the well-known and touristic Lindos, since I almost take it for granted that many have visited or already seen it, at least through the hundreds of photos scattered on the web … I begin and end with only two details of this splendid village where I had the pleasure of staying a few days. The little church of San Pauli Bay … You can’t understand what an effort I made to photograph it from above in the early morning at dawn! There is only a small hill from the parking lot above the bay full of pebbles and stinging succulents … The view is wonderful, but the terrain is rough and suitable only for local goats!
But let’s continue south … Just before arriving in Gennadi, another white village that I discovered by chance on a previous trip, there is Lachania, a village that you can reach from a road by turning right (if you are coming from Lindos-Rhodes). A movie called “Hight Season” was made in Lachania in 1987, directed by Clare Peploe, starring Jaqueline Blisset and James Fox. Entering the village you cannot help but notice an infinity of white walls and houses with the typical blue windows. But what struck me most about Lachania was the small square which you get to by going down the street. Big trees cover some tables and the bar where locals and tourists can drink and eat away from the scorching Greek sun. Wonderful!
I was talking about Gennadi … I had discovered this village by chance because during a previous trip I had lost my identity card at the airport and, when I arrived in Lindos, the only active police station was here … So I had ventured at noon and under the scorching sun through the narrow streets of this deserted village in search of the police station to report the loss of my document. This time, however, I returned with my camera and I found people around and some bars open … A whole other thing but still a lot of typically Greek charm
Going towards Rhodes there is instead a white and very colorful village that you absolutely must visit: it is called Koskinou and I must admit that this was the place in cyui I have seen more tourists ever (after Lindos which is super-crowded of course) .. . Koskinou is a fairly quiet village 2 km from the main road and 7 km from Rhodes (you can also get there comfortably by bus if you have not rented a car or something to move independently)
When the road is not long and the hot sun is strong, I always prefer to walk, because you can discover beautiful things and glimpse the beauties of nature … We know the sea and the villages but everything else?
Yes, the details … Seeing Lindos from the rearview mirror of the car is certainly suggestive but perhaps a little sad … It is definitely best to see her when she is arriving and the vacation begins … Don’t you think?
I thought a lot before writing this post: about all the people I met during the many trips, about the thousand different personalities and the extravagant people I met on trains, on international buses but also in hostels.
In the world there are many people who travel alone, so don’t be surprised if, one day or another, for convenience or necessity it should happen to you too. There are those who do it to seek a better life, those who try to “escape” from a more or less temporary stress phase and those who do it simply because they prefer this style of travel to that of a group.
Traveling alone leads to seeking more connections with strangers and this somehow forces anyone to travel in company and almost never alone. This is where the various personalities of solo travelers take over: there are those who prefer to limit themselves to a few chats or contacts or even isolate themselves almost all the time, rather than others who take advantage of total freedom to throw themselves into all the opportunities that the travel offers them. Evening outings, absurd excursions, changes of plans and everything that presents itself to them, becomes for some the opportunity to make a solo trip the biggest group party of the year.
I was in Tampere in Finland, the year of the Olympics in which Stefano Baldini won the marathon. I arrived at the hostel late at night. At the reception they welcomed me with the usual phrase that announces a sleepless night: “Don’t forget! Make sure everyone is asleep!” Obviously I found myself a serial snorer in my room. It was a man that his wife had put in a different room from his in an attempt to be able to sleep at least on vacation! On the second night, shoes, objects of all kinds and various insults in macaronic English began to fly. I immediately understood that in addition to the snorer, I had found myself in the room with other Italians who, in general, I try to avoid because they force me to speak my language rather than learn new ones!
Anyway… it was a couple of friends and another solo traveler: an architect who had decided to come and live in Finland to improve his working position and perhaps find a wife. I was originally supposed to stay in Tampere for a night or two at the most. Because of my new “travel companions” I stayed 6 days. Every night it was a disco or a pub or a tour of the city. During the day the market, the excursion or the stroll around the shops…
I know people who, due to a passing travel love, spent 20 days in the same city (without combining anything among other things). The solitary traveler who isolates himself manages to respect his travel plans, sees many things, meets a thousand cultures and certainly knows many people.
The solitary traveler with a more open personality risks “wasting time” on unexpected events and programs not included in a travel plan … But in the end, this is also the beauty of the journey: don’t make too many plans and try to enjoy everything to the fullest what we manage to insert in those days of happiness that we can spend around the world.
A few years have passed since that endless journey between Iceland, the Faroe Islands and then down, passing from Scandinavia to Spain. But only today, on a cold December weekend, I started scanning some of those wonderful photos taken with the old reflex to tell about that wonderful adventure.
It was a hot summer (not so hot in Iceland) in 2004 and I embarked on a long journey around Europe with no return (meaning that I ended up living over a year in Ireland). With me, at least the first few days, there was a travel companion, Matteo, with whom I shared the first tour of the Icelandic Ring Road by bus. We spent the first night inside our uncomfortable and cold runway tents at Keflavik Airport, after landing late in the evening.
n distant memories I still have in mind a fisherman from Keflavik who told us about his boat and about Baldur, a deity of Norse mythology. We will carry the memory of both for days and days. At least until our arrival in Höfn, the day of the legendary football match
Höfn was the first clear example of the contrast between the apparent desolation of Icelandic villages and the strong group life that binds this people. If you walk among the houses of some Icelandic village it almost seems to live in deserted villages but, it often happens to find yourself in small parties, places where people gather or meet. Despite everything, Matteo and I were invited by a group of kids to a football match between complete strangers. And it wasn’t the only time someone made us sweat despite the cold … On my first Icelandic trip, I had the opportunity, among other things, to try a fabulous fish soup in a small restaurant in Höfn. Don’t ask me for the name. I could never remember. I just remember the cold outside and the heat of the boiling soup.
In our infamous journey through the immense Icelandic lava fields, I clearly remember Landmannalaugar, if only for the difficult pronunciation we encountered in the early days and also for the absurd cold we suffered in the tents after the storm that welcomed us among the magnificent canyons of the Icelandic valley crowded with tourists. So crowded that when we got the good idea of renting a bungalow for the night, they told us that they had all been booked since March! (plan accordingly)
Equally frustrating but a little less spectacular from a landscape point of view was, a few days later, the night spent in Husavik. Matteo and I left for the usual walk around the village but, on our return, we found my tent completely destroyed. I don’t know how it could have happened. Maybe some kid playing soccer. The fact is that Matteo and I huddled for a couple of nights in his tent and, after a worthy Viking funeral at mine, we wandered among the caravans of Husavik’s free camping in search of the truth.
At this point there were few common stages left. We would pass Dalvik, then return to Akureyri, Iceland’s second largest city, where I would buy a new tent. From there I would have traveled alone around the island, while Matteo would have embarked for a flight from Keflavik towards Norway.
Dalvik welcomed us with the usual free deserted camping and the muddy soccer match with the local kids. Pratically a football field with changing rooms adapted to a public bathroom in which there was only Matteo’s tent, a few kids playing football (with us) and the usual summer rain. An absurd cold did not leave us even in the showers, but he forgot about us when, in the evening, passing in front of a village gym, we met a group of boys intent on taking part in a private party. Matteo had so many flaws, but the fact that he was able to get to know anyone and in any place did not displease me at all. There was even rumor that he was one of the few who had actually had sex on the legendary “hornet ship” (if the translation is correct), one of the ships of the Viking line steeped in legends and rumors that crosses the Northern seas. But he never told me anything about it. And I didn’t ask him for anything. I preferred the myth of youth to remain so.
Anyway… We were walking around Dalvik and Matteo stopped to talk to this group of guys outside the gym. He went out of his way to enter but, as you know, a private party is private for Icelanders. No it goes wrong. However, they brought out drinks and things to eat and talked to us all evening. The next day we met some of them around… and the welcome was almost better than the night before. I have heard that Icelanders are like their volcanoes: cold and icy on the outside, but hot and “fiery” on the inside. In Dalvik I really had proof of this side of their character.
The championship final
Back from Akureyri with my brand new and ultramodern tent, Matteo and I were getting ready to spend the last day together. It was a cold day in July 2004 and Greece were preparing to face the most famous Portugal in the final of the European Football Championships with very little hope of victory. Matteo forced me to take a seat in a very crowded pub in Selfoss, where we would have witnessed the probable victory of Portugal. In fact, Greece took home an inexplicable victory and we an exaggerated amount of Icelandic food and beer enough to get the 90 ‘.
I left Selfoss a couple of days later in the freezing rain. I was alone and eager to discover new corners of Iceland. In Vik I went back to the usual camping site and to the same wooden house where I had been a few years earlier. The tent was soaked in rain and weighed heavily on my back from these first few weeks of travel. So I decided for a more solid roof while waiting for the tent to dry. If during the first trip I was lucky enough to find the house all to myself, this time I shared it with a German family consisting of a mother, father and two daughters. Needless to say, I spent the night in one of the two double beds with the father, while a little ‘everyone disposed of the birthday cake of one of the two daughters, to which they sang cheerful songs in German all evening..
After leaving Vik I stopped again in Akureyri, where I wanted to embark for Grimsey Island, the only point in Iceland from which the Arctic Circle passes. I’ve always had a soft spot for Akureyri: a tiny little girl of extraordinary beauty once approached me and held out her hand. She then she opened it and handed me a black pebble. I asked her what she was and with perfect English equal to that of a university student she explained that it was a piece of Icelandic lava and that she wanted to give it to me. It’s really true. The heat of the Icelanders is like that of their volcanoes. Even when the lava turned cold.
Grimsey was a nice surprise and a perfect destination for a day trip. A small harbor and a very colorful church (inside and out) make this small island a little out of this world special. However, Grimsey was also the second place in which I aspired to the infamous skuas, very aggressive arctic birds, accustomed to attacking anyone who dares approach their territory from above. At both Jokulsarlon and Grimsey you will be given sticks a meter or more in length to keep skuers away from “flying” above you. However, the same thing did not happen when I arrived in Bolungarvik, in the fjords of Westfjordur. In Bolungarvik I was attacked by a rather “aggressive” group of skuas and, when my thin sweatshirt was going to shreds, a small family with an SUV came to my rescue. I saw myself throw open the back doors and heard shouting: “Come in, come on!” But in the back seats there were two very small and very blond children that I was afraid of crushing when entering. Eventually fear prevailed, I jumped in and that dark SUV and got to safety.
Meanwhile, time passed and August was approaching with the imminent end of summer (which in Iceland coincides with the middle of this month more or less). Once I explored Westfjordur and visited Ísafjörður, I would return south where I would stay among the lesser known villages on the island. I stayed one night in Blönduós to admire the small church turning orange at nightfall and the next day I took a mail van driven by a nice Icelandic gentleman who didn’t speak a word of English. My destination was Sauðárkrókur and I would stop here one night. It would be the last in the tent. The postal driver and I tried to communicate and understand each other in some way throughout the journey, until a few minutes from Sauðárkrókur he made me understand with his wide and varied gestures, that we should agree on the time and place of departure of the day after. His was the only semi-tourist vehicle that traveled to and from that village and, if I hadn’t left with him, I would have risked spending the rest of my life in a small tent “parked” in the middle of a meadow..
Upon entering the village, the intrepid driver of the van thus began to look for his nephew who, he made me understand, spoke very good English. A tall, very confident blond boy poked his head out the window and in a few words told me that I would have to wait for his uncle the next day at 10.00 am at the same point where he was leaving me. In other words, at an approximate point in front of the free camping of Sauðárkrókur.
My penultimate stop was the tiny and unpronounceable village of Kirkjubæjarklaustur (if you repeat it several times then it gets into your head), where an excursion to Þórsmörk was waiting for me. It was the wettest, wettest, most torrential and flooded excursion of my life. But I saw things that only in Iceland and in no other country in the world could I have seen!
A tip: if you are not Icelandic, carefully avoid going into too “undriveable” areas just because you feel strong in your super Jeep. Were it not for an old Icelandic 4×4 bus (yes! The one in the photo above), now I would be talking about a jeep being pulled away by the river, rather than a brave Icelandic driver who pulled a group of tourists out of the raging river. terrified!
Wet but happy I could go to Seyðisfjörður, the colorful village where the Icelandic port of Norröna is based. If you don’t know it, it’s the ship, or rather the huge multi-storey building, which travels between Denmark, the Faroe Islands and Iceland. I slept one night in a village school and the next day I embarked for the Faroe Islands. Iceland has so many tourists in relation to accommodation that, in peak season, some schools are used to accommodate travelers. That evening, I arrived when the village was now sleepy and deserted. The local gas station vending machine was the only one that still had something to eat. I took a snack with the last few coins and walked between the houses in the village. After a few minutes a car stopped and the driver asked me if I wanted a ride. I cannot hide that, if the girl of my dreams had happened, I would have stayed to live also in the North Pole but, after a short conversation and some attempt to speak with the few words of Icelandic that I had learned in these 60 days, we arrived in front of the school . I thanked, got out of the car and understood (once again) that this journey had to continue. Starting with the crazy group of Italians who arrived late at night offering me all the good things to eat …
The Faroe Islands
Although we were now approaching September, the days I spent in the Faroe Islands were the prelude to summer. A phase of high pressure with splendid and warm days (for the area to be clear!) Invaded the islets in those days. I had booked a bed in a hostel in Torshavn, the tiny but charming Faeroes capital and had run out of money before I even got off the ship. My old credit card could not withdraw in such a remote place (for her) and it took me two or three days to get some money sent from home. Something similar happened to me in Turkey and in Trujillo, a very small village in the Extremadura in Spain. I shared the mixed dormitory of the Torshavn hostel with 4 other people: Antonio, was a Spanish boy with whom I shared long walks around the capital every evening and long chats about the habits that bound Italians and Spaniards (such as not being able to stay too closed in the house in good weather). Then there was an American woman who offered several times to lend me money to continue the journey, but I preferred to manage alone and not spread debt around the world. Finally, there were two Swedish guys who continued to show their desire to move to Italy… and I never understood why..
Ever since I started traveling, Mykines has always been one of those legendary islands I wanted to visit. Together with Foula in Shetland. Because I had seen photos, read stories and this distance from everything attracted me more than anything else. And, I must admit, the journey here was absolutely worth it.
Mykines is permanently inhabited by about fifteen people and an incalculable number of seabirds who come to lay their eggs on the island’s cliffs. When the tourists arrived, part of the inhabitants sat waiting at the small port, while some men fixed the grass roofs of the houses. I don’t remember ever seeing so much beauty and simplicity put together in another place.
In the following days I continued to explore the islands by walking through the deserted streets or by taking some small postal or tourist boats. I particularly remember the Gjógv hostel and the people lying in the hot September sun admiring the sea. In my memories of these beautiful islands are the sheep eating grass in every corner of the islands and the thousands of seabirds flying free in the sky. A fisherman told me that at the beginning of summer the sheep were brought to the top of some hills to eat the grass and prevent it from overgrowing. I think all the other animals came more or less spontaneously and will never go away …
I have never made such a long journey again and, if I could, I would do this in exactly the same way. The people, the places and the climate have marked the beauty of everything that happened in those “moving” months. The photos I managed to recover are only a small part of what I took (two heavy books of old prints on photographic paper), but resurrecting the memories of yesteryear with today’s quality is not always possible. But then, let’s face it … some memories are nice to carry inside: like the driver of an Icelandic bus who sang a typical song on the road that led to the Viti volcano, which in Icelandic means hell (it’s not a name given at random!) , or chats with the many people met along the way… There is no need to always photograph everything … the beauty will still remain within us…
My two favorite books on Iceland and the Faroe Islands
Last places. A Journey in the North by Lawrence Millman I have read and reread (the Italian edition) this book several times because it is a journey that the author travels starting from the Shetland Islands, then to the Faroe Islands, Iceland, Greenland following the route of the Vikings to the extreme North America. One of my favorite books ever!
101 Reykjavik by Hallgrimur Helgason The story of Hlynur is a bit peculiar. Unlike many of his peers, 30-year-old Hlynur still lives with his mother and struggles to take the reins of his life in a serious and mature way. Life in the Icelandic capital is made for him of pub nights and wake up late in the morning. An unusual Reykjavik described in an original way by Hallgrimur Helgason’s “pen”
Today I will tell you a story. An incredible story of a strange solo traveler. This traveler without a suitcase went from one adventure to another, never stopping.
Now, you may wonder: “how could this traveler continue to travel and live all these adventures without ever stopping?” Simple. He was a ghost.
Once he was also stopped by the conductor who asked him: “where is your ticket?” But he vanished into thin air and got off at the next station. Then he waited for another train and used the fog and darkness to cross the world on trains and ships.
He had no home to sleep in and nowhere to go. So he wandered all the time getting on a train and getting off when he arrived at his destination. But why did the traveling ghost keep traveling through time?
Because he was once a solo traveler… and not even death had made him desist from the beauty of traveling. So he kept jumping from train to train and, when the tracks ended, he walked and walked through meadows and wheat fields, then beaches and cities until he reached the sea.
At this point he boarded a ship and continued the journey…and he or maybe she never stopped. According to a legend and some rumors that circulated among the railway workers, it seems that the ghost could also be a girl. A girl who ran away from home many years ago and never found…
Sometimes, you know, we need some to remind us of how beautiful it is to travel, to leave, to plan, to abandon ourselves to the unexpected. If good memories don’t bring it all to mind, then let it be some healthy literature or some quotes to do it. Here are some famous solo travel quotes that will probably make you want to leave and, if you haven’t already, make you want to start traveling alone.
“I am never happier than when I am alone in a foreign city; it is as if I had become invisible.” Storm Jameson
“Some journeys can be only travelled alone!” Ken Poirot
3. “If you make friends with yourself you will never be alone.” Maxwell Maltz 4. “There are some places in life where you can only go alone. Embrace the beauty of your solo journey.” Mandy Hale 5. “I wondered why it was that places are so much lovelier when one is alone.” – Daphne Du Maurier 6. “Anything we fully do is an alone journey.” — Natalie Goldberg 7. “Not I, nor anyone else, can travel that road for you. You must travel it for yourself.” Walt Whitman 8. “When the traveler goes alone he gets acquainted with himself.” Diane Von Furstenberg 9. “Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.” Henry Rollins
Ten. “Traveling solo does not always mean you’re alone. Most often, you meet marvelous people along the way and make connections that last a lifetime.” Jacqueline Boone. 11. “The inner journey of travel is intensified by solitude.” Paul Theroux 12. “Traveling alone was like laundry for my thoughts.” Mark Foster 13 “Good people go to heaven, bad people go everywhere “ Unknown
It may happen that, between one trip and another, we feel like trying our luck and organizing something a little more exciting than usual. You know, traveling alone can mean a few more unexpected events but, if for one reason or another we decide to get away from everything and everyone, here are some cities or villages around Europe that only the bravest should visit traveling alone.
These are some villages that for various reasons (geological events, wars or more), have been evacuated and never returned to their original state. The inhabitants have been relocated en masse to new nearby settlements and now only onlookers, photographers and wildlife roam here.
1.Oradour sur Glane: This French village not far from Limoges is remembered for a massacre that took place on June 10, 1944, during the Second World War. Here 642 people lost their lives and, since then, only a museum of memory has been established here. Everything else is in a state of neglect. If you decide to come here, remember what happened and that it still remains a place of memory.
2.Doel, in Belgium, has a very special history: up to the 1970s it had a thousand inhabitants but with the new project to expand the port of Antwerp it was decided to start demolishing houses here. However, there are still a few hundred “dissidents” who do not want to know about selling their house and, today, Doel has become the village of street art and murals. So there remain closed windows and doors and walls full of incredible drawings. Maybe a visit here could be worth a few hours of your trip if you are passionate about street art
3. Pripyat also has a very special history. It was evacuated after the Chernobyl disaster, the well-known accident at the nuclear power plant on April 26, 1986 that initially caused 65 deaths. Pripyat, evacuated after the disaster, can now be visited thanks to some Kiev tour operators who organize excursions here. On the way back, if you just can’t resist the idea of visiting this desolate place, there are still many radiation checks. It even seems that a few hundred inhabitants managed to escape control and now reside permanently here.
4.If it is already hard to think of going to the Svalbard Islands (either alone or with others), trying to get to Pyramiden could prove to be fascinating but somewhat prohibitive. Founded as a mining town in 1910, Pyramiden bears this name due to the shape of the mountain behind it. In 1998 it was abandoned by the last Russian miners after being used by several mining companies for years. Since 2011 it seems to have been inhabited again for tourist purposes. If you do not like the idea of coming here to meet bears, birds, wild animals and some humans, however, know that on the Svalbard Islands you can visit 3 other ghost towns: -Advent City -Grumantbyen ( photo below) -Colesbukta … unless a polar bear eats you first
5. Belchite, in Spain, was also destroyed by a war. We are in the period of the Spanish Civil War and on 22 August 1937 a siege begins which will only end at the beginning of September. Belchite will be completely destroyed and only a monument of the heroes will remain here. Some films will also be shot after Belchite. But what you see in the photo below is what remains of the historic center of the city.
6.Craco is a small town in the province of Matera in Italy and in the 1950s it began to depopulate due to a landslide that endangered the stability of its houses. At the beginning of the 80s Craco became a ghost town even if today it is a real tourist destination and even a film set on some occasions. Surely a destination within the reach of even the most fearful.
7. Dvigrad is a medieval Croatian city also called Due Castelli. Its history has been full of battles and continuous sieges which it has often resisted thanks to its fortifications but, only in 1715, after a strong malaria epidemic, even the last inhabitants were forced to leave
8.Not much information about Jantuha, a city in Abkhazia, one of the autonomous republics in which Georgia (formerly the Soviet Union) is divided, but it is certain that looking at the image probably even the most fearless of solitary travelers would find it difficult to enter such a desolate and abandoned place. Doesn’t it remind you of a scene from the film “Eurotrip”?
9.This is a real gem and, even if we don’t recommend sleeping at night, it’s sure to be worth a visit. Kayakoy is a completely abandoned Greek-style village that overlooks the Aegean Sea but stands, or rather once stood on the Turkish coasts. The inhabitants now live in the valley and tourism is certainly not lacking here thanks to these splendid ruins surrounded by greenery. For all types of travelers.
Ten. Irbene and Skrunda-1 in Latvia are two Russian military bases with giant radars that are also abandoned. If you want to take a beach holiday, here we are not very far from the fresh seas of Northern Europe and, judging by the photos, already inside the abandoned site, you can see some sand dunes. There are also some hotels in the area. Think about it!
It has happened to many that we have to travel alone but some of us almost always happen because, as you know, it brings various advantages, especially at certain times of the year. I know many people who have found themselves starting alone because they were “ripped off” at the last minute by the group they were traveling with and others who were left by their boyfriend or girlfriend a few days before a trip planned for months.
Personally, I discovered this way of traveling more or less when most of my friends started getting married and starting a family. The large traveling groups slowly disintegrated and in the small groups that remained there was no longer the harmony of the past. Also I realized that I certainly could not plan to travel with the families of my friends who had grown up all my life (which has happened but in “uncle” mode and entirely acceptable).
But in these years of pure messing around, casual encounters, planned trips the evening before leaving and total carefree, I have found that even the solo trip has a large number of advantages that when you are in too many people you cannot have. Obviously there is also some negative side, but if life were perfect, we won’t spend so much time trying to improve ourselves.
Good! let’s go in order
The first good thing that comes to mind when I think about traveling alone is the idea of being able to plan everything in absolute freedom. The very low season is now my high season and this allows me to save money, travel more and not have to insist too much for vacation when no one else is on vacation.
Second thing: when traveling alone, you are hardly ever alone. This means that youcan choose your travel companions, without having to offend someone if, in a moment of your trip, you do not want to socialize or do not feel the need. I have traveled thousands of kilometers and, especially on international buses and night trains, I have met dozens of people. Slow travel is the best way to meet new people. Sometimes we talk for a few hours, others stop to eat, still others stop in the same city. In hostels, on the other hand, I shared days and nights with strangers and changed my travel plans because I was fine with my new travel companions. Had I been with some group of travelers it would not have been possible for me, I think.
When you are traveling alone and have left without a plan or even a reservation, it is certainly easier to find a place to sleep alone. If you exclude the high season, where it can happen to find everything full, the math teaches us that a free bed in a hostel is easier to find than three or five. In any case, I have wonderful memories of a trip to cold and rainy Scotland where, in an emergency, I stayed one night in a container near the port of Aberdeen and another outside Glasgow station during the hours in which it remained. closed. But, even in those few hours of cold and uncertainty, I happened to meet the craziest people I have ever met in my entire life!
When you travel alone you can decide which mess to get yourself into
5. One thing I noticed in “group travel”, but also when I was very young, is the big difference people have in terms of habits. Wake up in the morning, for example: there are those who at 7 are already running to the beach or have breakfast and others who do not want to get out of bed before 11. Yes, you are right, I have forgotten the ones that at 5 in the morning (or at night) are already around. It is not known if they are already awake or if they have never gone to sleep (but it doesn’t matter). Now, either we divide into small groups with similar times, or the solitary life is the ideal solution to plan the days in perfect harmony with yourself and never having to wait or be expected by anyone.
6. When traveling solo you can choose how best to poison yourself during the day: fast food, restaurants, street food or supermarkets are all at your discretion. There are no healthy girlfriends or friends who can advise you or protect you from bad choices
7.Traveling alone teaches you to get by without the help of others and without the help of mom and dad … When you are alone and in a distant country you have to learn to get by, at least for the little things, without the support of nobody. Then it happened that I had to call my parents or the bank because I was having problems, but otherwise there is no one who will come to help you if you get lost in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. … perhaps …
I would be a liar if I said that solo travel is always perfect. The first big disadvantage is that in couples or in larger groups you spend less (if the person who is with you is willing to divide the expenses equally!). Traveling alone involves sustainable costs if you travel by public transport and sleep in a hostel, campsite or, as it sometimes happened, on night trains or buses and, sometimes even on some sofa at someone’s home. But as you grow up (or get older) your needs change and you start going to hotels, renting cars and all these things. When you carry a camera and equipment that is worth a lot of money you have to spend a little more money and being two comes with an advantage (except for all the stops you make every time you see a beautiful subject to photograph)
The second “downside” of solo travel is probably the so-called “dead time”. Personally I have learned to fill them with many activities that I have created over the years but, I remember seeing so many people and myself getting bored for hours at the end of the day or waiting to go out at night because you don’t have someone to share your time with.