I almost went on vacation by myself once. Two summers after graduating college, when I was young and single and cool, I was planning a short vacation (really a long-weekend) in Montreal. None of my friends was particularly interested in going, so I thought, why not go by myself? Alas, an unexpected and rather severe illness ruined my plans and I never went. (Come to think of it, I still haven’t made it to Montreal, which is weird because I used to live in Maine and I’ve been to Quebec City. Hmmm….)
In the years since, I’ve gotten married, and at this point in my life, traveling alone on a non-work trip doesn’t make sense. (I have, however, traveled without my husband for a girls’ trip to Mexico.)
I think solitary vacations have a lot of potential, though. After all, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do to make another person happy. Like fishing. I always have to go fishing with my husband when we’re on vacation and I hate it. Watching paint dry would be more fun.
I have broken off alone, however, and come to think of it, one of my favorite days on my recent Florence trip was the day I spent wandering the Pitti Palace and the Boboli Gardens and the markets alone. My husband was arriving the next day, and I knew he would have been miserable…almost as miserable as I am fishing.
The only thing about travelling alone that would concern me (other than safety, which is a whole separate issue), would be eating alone in restaurants. I hate to eat alone.
What about you?