How exciting and scary it is to travel alone. The first time I did, it was to Paradise. I went to Kuala Lumpur to visit my friend Sandra, who had recently had a baby, and then traveled to Bali for ten days on my own. It was comforting to have someone greet me halfway before starting the journey by myself.
I arrived at Denpasar airport at 10 pm, where Carlota, a friend recommended by my friend Ivan from Mango, picked me up and took me to Ubud. It was pitch dark, with many animals making sounds, and I immediately felt the energy of the place. That night, I took the bedsheets, placed them next to the door, and slept on the floor; I was frightened. When the day arose, I was relieved to see where I was—in Paradise. Ubud was green, with a beautiful blue sky and amazing people.
Rice fields, temples, coffee tours, and the monkey forest were some of the experiences before I left for Gili Trawangan, and so far, I was never alone. I met people along the way and felt as if we had known each other for a long time. I planned to be in Gili T for only one night—a paradise on earth. A 12-kilometer island that I cycled in just a few hours before sitting to see the sunset at a hotel lounge on the west side.
This was the day I felt truly alone. I didn’t speak with many people during the day. Each day, Bali gifts the Gili islands with a beautiful sunset view, where a cloud forms around the volcano, making it visible to spectators. It was stunning and emotional. I had a couple of non-alcoholic drinks and tried to converse with the waitress, despite our limited English. There was something about the older woman that felt witchy, but in a familiar way. Many times before this moment, people asked me, “Why are you traveling alone?” She suddenly asked me the same, and in her eyes, I saw the reflection of this question within me: “Why am I here alone?” Why wasn’t I there with a friend or a boyfriend? Why was I alone?
That was the moment of truth for me. The moment I stopped; when I had no distractions. I was forced to look inside. That question hit me so hard that, all of a sudden, paradise became a healing journey difficult to explain – Not necessarily easy or enjoyable, but relieving nonetheless. I retreated to have a massage and process all that was going on within me.
Maybe it was the waitress, maybe the sunset, maybe the healing hands of the masseuse, or just the energy of the place. That experience changed me forever, and I haven’t stopped traveling alone since.
I went out that night and engaged with a couple of girls from Poland, and we had a great time. I went to sleep and woke up to the screaming shout of a girl, like something out of a horror film. The other guests and I couldn’t see what had happened, so we went back to our rooms. By then, it was 5 am and almost sunrise, so I decided to go to the beach, where I hung out with a couple of locals—one of them wanting to be a rock star and playing his invisible guitar for a while.
I loved the place. I loved the experience. I always felt safe. Going back to pack up my things, I stopped to speak with a couple of French girls at my hotel, asking if they knew what the scream was about. They told me someone had entered their room in the middle of the night and ran away when they shouted.
I didn’t get frightened after hearing that, but I knew I needed to be cautious. We live in a world with many different people and cultures. Our ways and mannerisms will never fit perfectly with everyone. Be aware. Be respectful. Feel compassion.
I left Bali having made friends for life. Canggu was another great place where I immediately connected with Carlota and Pili from Madrid, and we ended up having one of the best nights of our lives at the Old Man’s Beach party on Wednesday.
I would not have had such an experience if I had tried to plan it this way. Life is uncertain and unexpectedly beautiful. Embrace it and surrender equally.
