I have solo travel stories that I have literally dined out on as you will see in the Rochester story below.
Yes, over years of traveling solo, the tales have accumulated. Some are simply surprising moments, more small memories than stories. Others are full-blown accounts of encounters and learning that could only have happened thanks to traveling alone.
My stories are typically about the people I meet along the way. They are about locals who went out of their way to be kind and helpful, other travelers who provided recommendations, and still others with whom I spontaneously traveled for a few days or a few weeks.
Yes, for me it is the people. Moments in nature or the discovery of an urban surprise are wonderful in themselves, but they don't make a story like people do. People, in all their uniqueness, encountering my uniqueness, can make for extraordinary solo travel stories.
Meeting Locals: The Docent and the Bouncer
When you travel alone, days bring more surprises than when traveling with others. People sometimes take me under their wings as two special people did one day in Jackson, Mississippi.
Jackson was one of my stops on my trip down the Blues Highway. While there, I visited the Old Capitol Museum of Mississippi History. I got chatting with the docent at the front desk and, before I knew it, I was invited on a personal tour of the city by this lovely woman who was born and bred there. We had lunch together and then she toured me through parts of the city I would not have otherwise discovered, providing information that can only come from locals.
That evening, I went out to the 930 Blues Café (no longer there) where I met many friendly people. The special act of kindness came at the end of the evening. I arranged for my taxi and waited for it on the front porch with the bouncer, who had a broken leg. When the taxi arrived, the bouncer went down the stairs despite my objections, took me to the car, opened the door, helped me in, and looked directly at the driver and said “You take good care of my friend, ya hear?” He was doing more than his job. He was taking care of a stranger.
It was a fantastic day that made for great solo travel stories thanks to the support of locals.
One RV and Two Bikes Crossing the Continental Divide
Any kind of trip can result in a good story. Towards the end of an RV trip through the American southwest it was time to take on the Million Dollar Highway, cross the Continental Divide, and make my way to Denver, Colorado.
I was advised to head out very early to travel the Million Dollar Highway, reportedly called that because it cost a million dollars a mile to build, as the mountains are high, the roads narrow, and the shoulder non-existent in some places. The warnings were not understated. It runs along US 550 between Ouray and Silverton. I started it at 6:00 in the morning when there was very little traffic.
Next was the cross of the Continental Divide. This separates the watersheds that drain into the Pacific Ocean from those river systems that drain into the Atlantic and Arctic Oceans. The climb to the top is a few miles long and about halfway, I passed some cyclists on the ascent. My first thought: I wonder if they want a ride. My second: What an accomplishment! Third: It's up to them whether they want a ride or the accomplishment. I did a U-turn on the highway (it wasn't busy), went past them, pulled another U-turn, and came up alongside them to make the offer. It was accepted.
With the bikes in the back and only three seats in the RV, we just fit. From there, we went almost to Denver and camped outside the city for a night, shared dinner, and enjoyed each other's company.
A Solo Travel Story from Cuba featuring Hungarians, a Canadian & Dancing
In 2004, I was in Havana for a week by myself and really wanted to go Salsa dancing. I figured that the club recommended by the travel guide, Casa del Musica de Centro Habana, would be very touristy. This would make it less than local, not usually to my liking, but also more predictable and safer. However, when I got there, there was a lineup of hundreds of Cubans waiting to go dancing – and this was in the afternoon!
This made me a little uncertain, as I don't go clubbing at home. I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to do. Then I saw three people in line who were definitely tourists. I slid into line beside them, acting as if I knew them and had caught up with them. I introduced myself and explained that I just wanted to join them until I was inside. They looked puzzled. They didn't understand me. At least, not at first.
As it turned out, they were Hungarian and understood very little English. As you might imagine, my Hungarian is very poor given that it is unlike any other language in the world. But I got my point across and they let me join them.
When we got inside it was a huge, exciting club. Again, I was a little nervous. So I imposed myself and sat at their table. I know, it was weird. Soon, their tour guide arrived with three more Hungarians. I was surrounded and really wondered what I had got myself into.
Then, over the noise, I asked the tour guide if he spoke English. His response was an enthusiastic, “Yes!” He practically jumped across the table to communicate in a language he knew. We had such a fun time. He taught me to Salsa and the eight of us had a fabulous afternoon.
Here are some more solo travel stories from Cuba.
Raising a Glass on Guy Fawkes Day
My second trip after starting the blog was to the Lake District of England. It, too, has produced many solo travel stories. This is one that I have often told during speaking engagements.
After a day walking in the Lake District, nothing tastes better than a pint at a local pub. I was in Ambleside, Cumbria and my pub of choice was for locals, the Unicorn Inn.
I spent a week in Ambleside taking a different walking route each day. And each evening I went to the Unicorn. For three nights, I went there, ate dinner, and had a fine time with new friends. But, on the fourth night, I had a fantastic time.
The fourth night was Guy Fawkes night. A night for fireworks. But, unlike fireworks I've experience elsewhere, they lasted just a few minutes then everyone was off to the pub. When I arrived at The Unicorn, the place was already full and the celebrations had begun. When I walked in, I felt like Norm walking into Cheers! The small pub erupted in welcome. It was not possible for me to buy a pint. And songs were sung in honour (I just had to slip a Canadian spelling in at this point) of me being Canadian. It was the best!
Dining Out on Solo Travel Stories
Traveling solo, one never knows what an evening will bring.
On a road trip circumnavigating Lake Ontario, I had a stop in Rochester, New York. I stayed at a B&B and Hogan's HIdeaway was recommended for dinner. It was Friday night and the place was packed. There was only one spot to squeeze into at the end of the bar.
As I squeezed in, a couple moved a bit to make space and we got chatting. When their table was ready, they invited me to join them. As they were regulars, I asked them to order my meal (a common practice of mine in such situations). We all had the Friday Night Fish Fry. Delicious!
The conversation was great. They were curious about my travels and I was curious about Rochester. I asked many questions that actually made them see things differently. For example, I asked who Hogan was that the restaurant was named for. They didn't know. Then they saw friends who also owned the restaurant and learned, to their very great surprise, that Hogan was a Korean carpenter who had worked on the place. The curiosity of a stranger can take a conversation far. At the end of the evening, they would not allow me to pay for my dinner.
There are stories from all my solo trips worth sharing. In fact, I do so frequently on this site. Want to share a story of your own? Please email [email protected].
