The Solo Trip: Traveling Without a Battle Buddy

The first time I booked a trip for one, I felt vaguely like I was breaking a rule. In uniform, you never went anywhere alone. You had a battle buddy, a wingman, a shipmate. You signed out, you told someone where you were going, and you came back when you said you would.

That training sticks. I had spent years making sure nobody got left behind. It had never occurred to me that I could go somewhere alone on purpose, and that it might be wonderful.

It was. Here is how to do it well.

Why go solo

Traveling with family is lovely, and also a logistics operation. Traveling with friends is fun, and also a negotiation about where to eat. Traveling alone is the only time you get to do exactly what you want, when you want, at whatever pace your knees allow.

Want to spend four hours in one museum gallery? Go ahead. Want to skip the famous landmark and sit in a cafe watching people walk their dogs? Nobody will argue. Want to be in bed by nine with a paperback and room service? That is a perfectly valid vacation.

You also get to find out what you actually like when no one else is voting. For a lot of us, after years of the needs of the service, then the needs of the family, that is a surprisingly hard question.

Start with an easy mission

If you have never traveled alone, you don't need to backpack across a continent on your first try. Pick something manageable:

I had spent years making sure nobody got left behind. It had never occurred to me that I could go somewhere alone on purpose.

• A long weekend in a city a few hours away. Close enough that you can come home if it isn't for you.
• A place you have been before. You already know the lay of the land, so you can relax.
• A structured trip. A small group tour, a cooking class, a retreat or a guided hike gives you company when you want it and solitude when you don't.
• A trip built around one thing you love. A music festival, a garden, a baseball stadium, a bookstore you have read about for years.

Use your training (the good parts)

All those years of planning and situational awareness finally pay off in your favor.

Make a simple plan and share it. Leave your itinerary with someone at home. Check in at agreed times. Think of it as signing out at the CQ desk, minus the logbook.

Pack light. You have done this under worse conditions. A carry-on and a backpack, a few things that mix and match, comfortable shoes. Nobody needs four pairs of shoes for a long weekend. I say this as someone who has packed four pairs of shoes for a long weekend.

Stay aware. Trust your gut about people and places. Keep copies of important documents. Know how you will get from the airport to your lodging before you land, especially at night. Read up on your destination and any current travel advisories.

Don't overschedule. Hurry up and wait is no longer the operating model. Plan one or two anchors per day and leave the rest open.

Eating alone, and other small terrors

For a lot of women, the hardest part of solo travel is the table for one. It feels conspicuous for about five minutes. Then the food arrives, and you realize nobody is watching you, and nobody cares.

A few tricks: sit at the bar, where solo diners are common and the bartender is often good company. Bring a book or a journal. Go for a big lunch instead of a late dinner if that feels easier. Or just sit there, eat slowly and watch the room. It is one of the great underrated pleasures of life.

What you bring home

Somewhere around the second day of my first solo trip, I was walking back to my hotel after a long, unhurried dinner, and I caught myself laughing at something I had thought of. Just me. No audience.

That is the real souvenir. Not the magnet or the overpriced tote bag, though by all means buy the tote bag. It is the quiet discovery that you are excellent company. You are interesting, you are capable and you are a pretty good navigator. You knew that already, of course. You just never had the chance to spend a whole weekend with her.

Go book the trip. Sign out, tell someone where you're going, and come back when you said you would. Or maybe a day later. Your call this time.