Solo Travel: One Woman, One Suitcase. What Could Go Wrong?

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Nervous about travelling alone? One woman books the trip anyway and discovers confidence, chaos, new friends and the joy of going solo.

This was me: single and, if I am honest, slightly scared to travel alone on my first proper solo travel trip. What would people think?

Your mind starts playing tricks. Our brains are brilliant at protecting us and keeping us alive. They alert us to danger. The problem is they predict danger even when there is not any. Your soul just wants peace, love and joy, and sometimes you have got to tell your mind to shut it and let you live, especially when you are travelling alone for the first time.

If I had listened to my mind, I never would have gone away on this solo travel adventure. You get yourself worked up. What if you get lost? What if something goes wrong? What if, what if, what if. Then I switched it. What if it goes right? I literally walked myself through the airport in my head: departures, baggage drop, passport control, lounge. That is it. Simple.

Solo Travel Airport Journey


I wanted somewhere hot, but then the doubts hit again. It is a long way from home, what could happen? Classic overthinking before solo travel. I ignored it and booked Mexico. I had been over 20 years ago and loved it, so I just thought, f**k it, I am going travelling alone.

Morning of the flight, slight panic. I had three hours, plenty of time. Then I realised I needed petrol. Now the time was down to two hours forty. Got to the parking lot at 6am, dark and cold. Pre booked, so it should recognise my number plate. It did not. FFS. Not exactly the calm start to my solo travel adventure.

Finding Gatwick parking is like some kind of IQ test you did not revise for. Someone said, “You are booked at Purple Parking, which is 20 minutes away.” Time now: two hours and thirty. Then: “You will have to wait for a bus. They come every half hour.” And boom, instant self-sabotage mindset. You will not make it. Travelling alone suddenly felt very real.

I shoved the address into my sat nav, 15 minutes away, so I thought f**k it, let us go. Got there and guess what? A bus was literally waiting. All that stress for nothing. Hand over the car key, shove the luggage on the bus, and 15 minutes later I am at the airport with an hour and 40 minutes to spare. Plenty of time for my solo travel nerves to calm down.

Checked in, relief. The bag was right on the border of 20kg. WTF. I was only going to rest. Could face creams and a swimsuit really weigh that much? I had also stuffed in a few packets of Jaffa Cakes and tea bags. Do not ask. I was going all inclusive but you never know. I might not like the cakes. Solo travel priorities.

Solo Travel Hotel Arrival

I made my way to the lounge feeling slightly anxious, like I had a massive neon sign saying single passenger. Rabbit in the headlights vibes. Toilet, cuppa, duty free, obviously. My bag was overflowing. Why did I bring a massive bag of peanuts? Trying to be healthy for a ten hour flight. LOL.

Boarding time. Everyone seemed to be in families, couples or groups. Would I be the only one on my own? Honestly, no one gave a sh*t. Everyone was too busy staring at their phones or trying not to lose their kids.

I got to my seat, excited and anxious. What will Mexico be like? Will the rep be there? Will I get lost? Your mind really is your worst enemy if you let it take over, so I shut it down. I am going to enjoy this.

Safety video, then the announcement: someone has a serious nut allergy. Of course. Typical when I have literally packed a kilo of peanuts. I left them in my bag like a decent human.

Half a Nytol and within 30 minutes I was asleep. I was sitting next to two older ladies who were a couple, very sweet. I said, “Look, I have taken a sleeping pill, so if you need a wee just give me a shove, yeah? And if I snore or dribble, sorry in advance.” They laughed.

I woke up three hours later. Food arrived, something resembling chicken, but at least it came with a chocolate brownie and a cuppa. Scoffed that. Back to sleep.

Woke needing a wee, checked my phone, nearly six and a half hours in. Not doing bad. Back to sleep again and before I knew it we had arrived.

Off the plane, ready for sun and heat. And guess what? Overcast and raining. I had literally just left UK rain and freezing my tits off and flown 5,550 miles to the same bloody weather.

Suitcase collection, squeaky bum time. It is one of the most fearful moments, right? Jesus, if I lose my hair straighteners… all these things go through your mind. What if my suitcase bursts open along the conveyor belt and everyone sees my big knickers? Phew, though, I could see it coming along the carousel and it was all fine.

Then I panic. I was one of the first off the plane, walked down, no one behind me. That oh sh*t, I am actually alone in another country feeling hit. I walked further, still no rep. Only exit was outside. Could see buses. Still no rep.

Then finally, bright blue top, smiling face, my rep. Relief. “You are on a private taxi,” he said. Lovely.

Taxi, 45 minutes to the hotel. And here is the mad bit. The hotel he dropped me at was one I had seen 25 years ago when my friend worked there. Back then I said, “I wish I could stay here one day,” but I could not remember the name. And there I was, checking in. There are nearly 27,000 hotels in Mexico. What are the odds?

Concierge was lovely. Golf buggy to my room, flamingos and parrots outside like some David Attenborough fever dream. Slept early, woke up at stupid o clock and waited for daylight like a kid at Christmas.

Womens Solo Travel Alone

Breakfast was unbelievable. Colour everywhere. Fruit, pastries, fry ups, everything. Tried stuff I had never seen, yellow outside, frog spawn inside. Delicious.

The first week I just crashed. Slept, read, swam, sat with a hot chocolate on the beach, who even does that, while funny little animals raided bins and massive lizards wandered about like they owned the place. Barely spoke to anyone. Burnt out. I needed peace.

Second week, different story. Walking on the beach, I met Gavin and his friends and family. Got talking, hit it off. Next day, more chat. They invited me for dinner at their hotel. Karaoke later. Me singing sober, not good, but I thought f**k it. We laughed loads and at the end of the night they invited me to Canada.

Next day I had booked a trip to Chichén Itzá. On the coach I saw a really smiley woman. She said, “Hey, I am Carly,” and we instantly clicked. She was there for a wedding, needed a break, had gone through a tough break up, used to work as a stripper but was turning her life around. She was brilliant, funny, just open and real.

We walked around the ruins together, then went to a cave where you can zip wire into the water. I am scared of heights. I said, “If you do it, I will do it.” She said OK. She went first, buzzing.

Solo Travel in Mexico


My turn. Got up there, looked down, and started shaking. Classic solo travel moment when you realise travelling alone really does mean it is all on you. Then the woman next to me bailed and went down the stairs, and suddenly there was a big queue behind me. Single staircase. Everyone is staring. And I had been giving it the big one, yeah, I will go down. Me and my big mouth. This was the moment I wished I could disappear, but I had no choice on this solo travel adventure.

Then I thought, f**k it, I am doing it.

Best feeling ever. Liberating. Healing waters, apparently. Come out younger. Still waiting for the ten years younger, lol. That is the thing about solo travel, it pushes you way past what you think you can do.

Mexican food afterwards, the best I have ever had, music, dancing, everything. On the drive back we stopped in a little town. Thought it might be dodgy but felt completely safe. In two hours I had seen about 20 police cars just patrolling. Beaches spotless. The concierge said, “Leave your stuff, no one will touch it.” It was true. I left my bag to go in the sea and no one touched a thing. Travelling alone had felt scary before this trip, but in that moment I felt safer than London.

Back on the beach the next morning. Workers tidying, cutting down coconuts, gave me one to drink. Me face planting coconut water everywhere like a toddler. Tasty though. Solo travel dignity fully intact… obviously.

Saw two British lads, finally, late twenties. Should I say hi? Eventually I did. Just said, “Great to hear some British voices.” Quick chat. Did not want to be that annoying person. I gave them some tips and went back to my book, fully embracing the solo travel life.

The next day I saw them again and chatted more. Afternoon came and they said, “Foam party later, want to come?” I hesitated for one second, then thought, f**k it.

Time of my life. Dancing like I was back clubbing in my twenties. Crowd surfing on a lilo. Got on, fell off, got back on, slid off the other side. I looked a right tit. Did not care. I loved it. Travelling alone had officially levelled up.

Sam worked for Virgin as cabin crew, lovely. Josh worked in TV and knew loads of people I knew. Small world. Did a conga with random Canadians, met Tina and her husband, and a French Canadian guy tried chatting me up. Handsome, but his English was not great, and another banger came on, so sorry, dance first.

Influencers everywhere, posing in foam, faking fun, not living. It was actually quite sad. For a good hour one influencer stood outside the pool talking to her phone, pretending to have the time of her life. Meanwhile, the ones actually dancing were loving life. No phones, no filters, just pure solo travel joy.

Travelling Alone: One Woman’s Travel Journey

Singles trip alone in Mexico, one woman's solo trip

In the last few days, I met two Canadians at breakfast. We chatted for two hours. Then they left. Back to the beach for final rays. Normally after two weeks I am desperate to go home. This time? I did not want to leave.

All that worry before, eating alone, being the only single, was just in my head. Nobody cares. They are too busy living.

Time to go home. Packed, checked out, shuttle to the airport.

26kg.

I thought, WTF? It was 20kg on the way out. Six bloody kilos of what? Surely it should be lighter, all the Jaffa Cakes had gone. Well… maybe a few handbags accidentally slipped in.

“$150 USD extra,” she smiled.

Oh brilliant. Good job, they did not weigh me. Bang went the diet, and any idea I would travel light.

This Is What Solo Women’s Travel Really Looks Like

This Is What Solo Women's Travel Really Looks Like Fun with lots of new friends on holiday in Mexico

On the plane I was excited to see my son and the dogs, of course, but I already missed the heat, the beach, and the feeling of freedom that solo travel had given me. Travelling alone had felt daunting at first, but by now this solo travel experience just felt empowering.

Landed in London, freezing my tits off. Welcome home. Got to Purple Parking. Car frozen solid, battery dead, flat tyre. Bloody perfect. Just what you need after a long haul flight and no sleep at the end of a solo travel trip.

Told one of the lads working there, and they were amazing. Pumped up the tyre, jump-started the battery, got the car going and did not ask for a penny. Bloody brilliant. Purple Parking, actual legends.

And as for Sam and Josh?

They landed at Heathrow, tanned like gods, thinking they would breeze home, and their electric car was dead. Battery gone. LOL. Called the first mechanic on Google, desperate, and it turned into a full why is life like this saga.

The mechanic took hours to show up, then said, “Need a part.” Left. Came back. Left again. The boys ended up checking into a hotel, having drinks, watching Netflix, still waiting. Eight hours later their car finally worked. Their holiday literally ended with them stranded in a miserable Heathrow car park smelling faintly of sun cream and foam party soap.

Me? I got home, cuddled the dogs, made a cuppa and collapsed into bed, buzzing that I had actually done it. Solo travel. Travelling alone. No backup, no safety net. Just me on my women’s travel adventure and loving the solo travel life.

And that is the truth. The only thing that ever stopped me was the sh*t in my own head. Not airports, not parking, not flying 5,500 miles on this solo travel journey.

I left a piece of fear in Mexico and brought back confidence instead.

Life is for living. Stop waiting. Go by yourself. You never know who you will meet. And I had the time of my life. I will never forget that solo travel trip.

Huge thanks to Purple Parking

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