Flying Solo

While this trip is "officially" inspired by and dedicated to my maternal grandmother, Sylvia Fagen, the influence of my paternal grandmother, May Nagourney, is perhaps even greater.

Grandma May was an incredibly sweet woman with the best intentions, but she had an incredibly narrow world view. To her way of thinking, men should work as many jobs as they had to in order to keep their wives at home, raising their families and living in the style in which they deserved. She was terrified of the world beyond her immediate view and trusted no one. Whenever I ventured from New Jersey to New York City, she was horrified and frightened for my safety, convinced that I would be robbed, kidnapped, maimed, or permanently scarred. My announcement that I had been accepted early to my first-choice school in New York City was greated with a look of pure terror and the wail, "But you're not going to go, are you?"

When I was 21, I spent a few months backpacking through Europe. When I broke the news about the trip to Grandma, she kept asking, "You're going alone? Why alone?"

Very often when I travel, I am asked some version of that question -- "Are you travelling alone? Why? How do you feel about it?" Many people, especially women, tell me that they would never consider travelling alone. Some say they would get lonely, others say that they would be too intimidated or afraid.

I'm writing from country #30, and I've travelled through all but five of them alone. I didn't set out to do that, it just worked out that way. I've been blessed to have a lot of opportunities to travel, and almost all of those opportunities arose at times when none of my close friends or family members were available to travel with me. I had to go alone or stay home. And I always, always, choose to go.

Despite my grandmother's wailing, it never really occurred to me that it would be unsafe or a bad idea. And as I developed more and more experience in travelling alone, I grew to like it more and more. Now, I'm comfortable enough in my own skin to spend many days in solitude, self-reliant enough to get myself out of trying situations, and confident enough to walk into the gigantic and bustling Cairo train station without feeling intimidated. Travelling alone in the Middle East would not have been a good idea for me a few years ago, but at this point, it doesn't feel like an issue. I don't feel like "a woman travelling alone," or "a person travelling alone," I just feel like "Jen travelling."

I realize more and more that I probably enjoy travelling alone a little too much. I love my solitude, but find that companionship and human interaction ultimately give the greatest joys in life. I'm very hesitant to trade the absolute freedom of solo travel for companionship -- it has to be incredibly high-quality companionship that also works in the context of the way I like to travel. I have many dear friends whom I love immensely, but would never, ever want to travel with in a million years. (I am sure that many would say the same about me.) I generally refuse to take tours because I can't imagine an entire group of people that I would enjoy travelling with. Hopefully, I will develop many fruitful travel relationships in the years to come. Until then, I'm very happy to be on my own.