Why Everyone Should Travel Solo at Least Once (Even if It’s Just a Weekend Trip)

Table of Contents

That Time I Almost Cried in a Hostel in Tokyo

Okay, But Why Travel Solo at All?

Freedom to Be Weird (Without Judgment)

The Unexpected Magic of Doing Nothing Alone

Learning to Rely on Yourself (Even When You Can’t Open a Pickle Jar)

The Weird Emotional Stuff Nobody Warns You About

Packing for One: Surprisingly Liberating

Solo Travel Tips I Swear By (Sort of)

How It Changed Me (Or at Least My Taste in Snacks)

If You’re Thinking About It… Just Try

 

1. That Time I Almost Cried in a Hostel in Tokyo

So picture this: I’m standing in a shared kitchen in Tokyo at 2 a.m., trying to figure out how to microwave instant noodles that have absolutely zero English instructions. My phone’s dead. I’m starving. A French guy in slippers just gave me a thumbs-up for no reason. And I seriously considered just—crying. Right there, next to the communal rice cooker.

But also? I’ve never felt more alive.

I mean, was I totally overwhelmed? Yup. Did I end up eating cold noodles with chopsticks I found in my bag from a sushi place two days ago? Also yes. But that moment—that messy, weird, strangely beautiful moment—was mine. And that’s kind of the thing with solo travel. It’s all yours. The good, the bad, the “is that a spider in my hostel bed” of it.

2. Okay, But Why Travel Solo at All?

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: yes, it’s scary. Especially the first time. There’s no buddy to blame when you get on the wrong bus or someone to split the cost of overpriced airport snacks with.

But here’s the trade-off—you get to be completely selfish. Like, unreasonably so. Want to spend two hours in a stationery store? Do it. Craving pancakes for dinner three nights in a row? No one’s stopping you. You move at your own rhythm.

Solo travel is the ultimate “choose your own adventure.” It’s freeing, empowering, and weirdly therapeutic in a “talking to yourself in a park like a Disney witch” kind of way.

3. Freedom to Be Weird (Without Judgment)

Here’s the secret perk no one talks about: when you travel alone, you get to be your weirdest, truest self. Like, I once sang to myself walking through the streets of Rome. Out loud. For an hour. Nobody cared. Not one single person.

You wanna journal obsessively? Wear that fanny pack proudly? Talk to a street cat like it's your therapist? Go off, my friend.

There’s something magical about not having to filter yourself. And if you're an introvert? Heaven. You don't have to small talk over breakfast or pretend you’re okay with sharing a bathroom schedule. You just... exist.

4. The Unexpected Magic of Doing Nothing Alone

One afternoon in Lisbon, I sat on a bench for like, 90 minutes, watching pigeons fight over a croissant. That's it. No agenda. No ticking off a must-see list. And weirdly, it was one of the most peaceful parts of the trip.

When you're alone, you learn to appreciate the stillness. You’re not rushing to please anyone else. You can just be. And in a world that’s always yelling at us to “do more” and “be productive,” that’s radical stuff.

Sometimes the most enjoyable travel isn’t about what you do, but about how fully you feel where you are.

5. Learning to Rely on Yourself (Even When You Can’t Open a Pickle Jar)

Real talk: nothing builds confidence like getting through weird travel moments alone. Like that time I accidentally booked a hotel in “San Jose, California” instead of Costa Rica. Or when I locked myself out of my Airbnb in socks. (Don’t ask.)

But here’s what happens—you figure it out. You become resourceful. You laugh at your own stupidity. You learn to ask for help, or mime wildly at strangers, or Google-translate your way through a bus station.

Every little solo victory adds up. You start to realize you’re stronger and more capable than you thought—even if you still can't open that damn pickle jar.

6. The Weird Emotional Stuff Nobody Warns You About

There’s this strange thing that happens about 3 days into a solo trip: you get lonely. Then you get not lonely. Then you get lonely again. It’s like emotional Whac-A-Mole.

I remember sitting in a tiny diner in Prague and suddenly missing my sister so badly I almost called her just to hear her complain about work. But then the waiter brought me the fluffiest pancakes ever and said, “Enjoy, darling,” and I was like… oh. I'm okay.

Traveling solo makes you sit with your feelings. And yeah, sometimes they’re messy. But it’s also kind of healing? Like your brain finally has room to breathe.

7. Packing for One: Surprisingly Liberating

Let me rant for a sec: group travel packing is the worst. You always have to consider someone else’s expectations. Like, “Oh, are we doing fancy dinners?” “Do we need matching outfits for the ‘Gram?”

Not when you're solo, baby. Just you and your memory foam travel pillow, two pairs of underwear, and your favorite hoodie. (Okay fine, bring more underwear.)

Also, there's less pressure to impress. You can wear the same pants three days in a row. No judgment.

8. Solo Travel Tips I Swear By (Sort of)

Alright, here's a totally inconsistent list of things I’ve learned:

1. Always carry snacks. Solo hunger = rage.

2. A memory foam pillow? Total game-changer.

3. Take a photo of your passport. Then email it to your mom. Just... trust me.

4. Don’t overschedule. Leave room for surprise bakery detours.

5. Carry a tiny first aid kit. You won’t use it, but it’ll make you feel like Bear Grylls.

Oh, and journal. Even if it's just “Today I cried in a bathroom stall in Madrid.” That’s still worth remembering.

9. How It Changed Me (Or at Least My Taste in Snacks)

I came home from my first solo trip with a suitcase full of Turkish candy and a weirdly intense love for olives. I also came back with something else: a calmer brain. A bit more trust in myself. A new appreciation for quiet mornings and bad hostel coffee.

Solo travel didn’t turn me into some enlightened travel monk. But it did nudge me toward being someone I liked more. Someone who could sit with their own thoughts and not immediately open Instagram.

Also, I finally understood why people like slow travel. You notice more. You connect deeper. It’s not about ticking off landmarks—it’s about being in it.

(And yes, I still use my inflatable pillow on my couch. No shame.)

10. If You’re Thinking About It… Just Try

Look, I’m not saying go backpack Southeast Asia for six months (unless you want to). But maybe start with a solo weekend. One night in a nearby town. A little Airbnb getaway with books and snacks and zero expectations.

Try it. See how it feels to wake up with no one else’s voice in your ear.

And if it turns out you hate it? That’s okay too. At least you’ll know.

 

If you liked this rambling mess, maybe check out How to Make Traveling Actually Enjoyable Again in 2025 — it’s got more thoughts, more tips, and probably too many references to travel pillows.

So tell me—have you ever traveled solo? Or are you still working up the nerve? Let’s swap awkward stories. I promise mine involve cold noodles and questionable life choices.

 

Author Profile:

Hi, I’m Florian Werner, the founder of FLOWZOOM. The idea for FLOWZOOM started during an unforgettable trip around the world. After spending what felt like forever on long flights, I noticed just how tough it is to stay comfortable while traveling.

I tried every travel pillow I could find, hoping for some relief—but nothing worked the way I needed it to. That’s when I decided to create my own. At FLOWZOOM, we focus on designing pillows that actually do what they’re supposed to: keep you comfortable and supported while you travel.

I’ve spent years figuring out what makes a great travel pillow. My goal is to make every trip easier for people who, like me, want to enjoy their journey without the aches and pains. I’m proud to share what I’ve learned through FLOWZOOM’s products and tips for better travel.

Here’s to making every trip a little more comfortable!