What kind of friends do I make when I travel solo?
Good ones. Real ones. Beautiful ones.
As the old adage goes, less is more. When it comes to traveling, more is unnecessary and less is your shoulders thanking you for not putting them through the gates of hell.
“YOU WANT TO DO WHAT!?”
Mom freaked out the first time I told her I wanted to backpack solo. Sem break was coming up and I was dreaming of going to Sabah for two short weeks. But that was not going to happen.
It’s flattering to be a woman travelling in Jordan. Everywhere I went – whether walking along the streets or having dinner at a restaurant on my own – friendly local men would come up to me and welcome me to their country.
Throw your insecurities out the window. It is not weird to go to a gig, or a concert, or a music festival alone.
“STOP THE CAR!” I scream with all the air in my lungs. “STOP! LET ME OUT NOW!”
“Mei, are you okay? You look sad.”
“Mei, why are you angry?”
“Mei, my intern is scared of you. She says you look fierce.”
Here I am writing under a red-headed tree, enjoying the perfect winter weather – sunny with a crisp, cooling breeze.