How I Lost The Wish To Travel Solo

Oh, I was when so independent, so footlose and fancy-free! I desired to go on a journey — say, Paris say, the Galapagos — and if I had no travel companion, that wasn’t going to halt me. On the contrary, the believed of striking it out on my personal energized me.

I was younger then. I was either single or in a romantic relationship, but not a extremely major 1. I am less young now and in a committed partnership, and the guy I’m committed to transpires to be an exceptional travel companion. Not absolutely everyone is lucky to travel effectively with their spouse, but I’m one particular of those a lot more lucky.

In the twelve many years we have been collectively, we’ve traveled hand-in-hand to spots all over the U.S., but also to France, Italy, Australia and the Philippines. Our shared memories of these adventures include a different indelible dimension to our bond.

So when I was accepted into the Sirenland Writers Conference, which would get location in Positano, Italy, we had a bit of a dilemma.

Ken took a stand. As envious as he could possibly be, he was convinced that he would be a distraction and he desired additional than anything at all for me to focus on writing and meeting new author good friends and acquiring every thing out of the conference I could.

I understood his place and believed he was probably suitable. I’ve been to writers conferences prior to — albeit not in such a glorious setting — and they are extreme, all-consuming experiences. I would miss him when there, but I’d be as well active (and, often, drunk) to comprehend it most of the time.

My hesitation, however, came with the pre- and submit-journeys. Offered the cost of airfare and the fact that (uncharacteristically) I had the time, I determined I may possibly as very well tack on a couple of sidetrips: three days in Capri beforehand, three days in Rome afterward.

It was in Capri exactly where I realized that the thrill of traveling solo, for me, has shriveled up and died.

It was off-season on that breathtaking island, blissfully quiet, and most of my time involved walking for miles along desolate paths and roads hugging a coastline that at just about every turn made available up a startling vista of sea and sky and rock and foliage much more magnificent than the last. In the face of such majesty, there is almost nothing to do but flip to the individual at your side and whimper in stunned appreciation.

No a single stood at my side this time, though. And it wasn’t just any person I missed now. The bittersweet second evoked an real, physical pang in my chest. That this elegance should not be shared with him — the disappointment shook me with the force of tragedy.

So what I did was, I took photographs. Dozens and dozens of them. I would capture this, damnit, and I would e mail the pictures to Ken and it would be like he had been there, sharing these moments with me.

A camera is not an eye, though. Nor is it a heart.

That evening, I sent two postcards residence to Ken, two distinct views of breathtaking Capri. I sent him a postcard each and every day of my journey — after Capri, there was Positano and then Rome. In all these spots, a dozen instances a day, I set my eyes on a breathtaking landscape or feasted on an remarkable meal or felt moved by the pealing of ancient church bells. I didn’t have to create that I missed him. He knew that by now, as I knew he missed me.

I’d been proud when of what I regarded as my cost-free spirit, my willingness to tackle no matter what came my way all on my very own. I can even now do that, but apparently I no longer want to.

By Jude Polotan

About the Writer

Jude Polotan is a novelist and fledgling travel writer. You can study extra about her fiction at JudePolotan.com and stick to her blog site at Compose.Travel.Adore.com.