It’s so easy for me to slip into negative thought patterns about money and relationships, chastising myself for not following a traditional life path. My life in Wānaka is normal; most of my friends are either on their second kid or their first divorce. To slip into a comparative mindset is second nature for me. It takes some heavy self-reflection to step back and reform the narrative. I know, I know, a lot of therapy talk. Listen, I paid an absolute shit-ton of money for therapy over the years, and I’m going to make every penny count. 

So, shifting my thoughts toward positive things may be harder, for it will be me, but it will be better in the long run. I try to focus on my successes and wins. I dwell on travel memories and lessons I’ve learned over the years. How different I am at 36 than 26. Older, wiser, more botox, you know, the usual.

5 crazy solo female travel facts that will blow your mind

But some things stay the same: I’m an introvert, and I hate people. This means I’m still rocking the good old solo female travel lifestyle. To be honest, I don’t really see this ever changing. I love traveling on my own as much as I did 17 years ago when I boarded a one-way flight alone to Spain to study abroad for a year. In fact, I’ve solo traveled so hard for so long that I don’t even think of it as anything but just travel.

What I find fascinating is how the travel landscape has changed. I still used calling cards on pay phones to ring my family that year in Salamanca. I would travel by train, arrive in a new town, and just rock up to the information center and ask about hotels. No one had smartphones and actually had to ask people for directions. I can still remember the first time someone asked ME for directions in Spain in Spanish – felt like a dream come true to appear local even though I had zero idea of where they wanted to go.

Perhaps something I didn’t anticipate was that I found solo female travel in your thirties even more rewarding than when I was younger. Why? Because I’ve changed. After ruminating on this for a while, I’ve decided to pop down six reasons why solo female travel in your thirties is amazing. I’m curious if you agree with them. Enjoy!

1. Your confidence shines brighter than ever

One of the best benefits of getting older is that you start to give less fucks about so many things. A lifetime people-pleaser, it’s always been hard for me to say no. But the past few years have been amazing; I just don’t care as much as I used to. 

I can be direct with people in ways that were extremely difficult for me in my twenties. When I was trying to sell my car a few years ago, this guy was on the phone, borderline harassing me and telling me what to do, saying I knew nothing. Instead of waiting to wrap up the conversation, I just said, “I’m not enjoying this – goodbye,” and hung up. This may seem silly to some people, but for introverts, shy folk, and people who just hate conflict, it was a big deal. And standing up to men who demean me, talk over me, mansplain, or tell me what to do? That is starting to feel really good. 

Learning to be more direct and not being as afraid of rejection in whatever capacity is empowering. This carries over beautifully with solo female travel in your thirties. Traveling on your own as a woman can be scary. You probably haven’t honed your bullshit radar or learned to trust your instincts over being polite. But in your thirties? “Sir, I’ve already paid you twenty bucks to ride this camel around the Pyramids. I’m not paying you more. Period.”

God, I can’t wait til I’m 70, and I can just boss people around left, right, and center with zero fucks to give.

2. Your bank account looks way better

I want to preface this by saying you probably have more money in your thirties than in your twenties. I’m sure some people don’t. In fact, at one point in my thirties, I had negative money for quite a while. But for the rest of you guys who know how to live within your means, this is for you. 

When I first started backpacking and traveling on my own at 19, I was cheap for a long time. I had to be. My jobs paid me between $5.85 and $7 an hour in the US. Yes, multiple jobs. And also, being at university when I somehow thought it was a good idea to go to a school where a four-year degree costs $200,000. I say this with privilege, but I think it’s safe to assume that many of us by our thirties have managed to sock some money away and have better jobs and, hopefully, a smaller student loan debt.

Finally, gone are my years of staying in 15-bed hostels and sleeping on airport floors. I will pay more for better seats on flights or even upgrades (travel is my work, remember), I don’t fly shitty budget airlines if I can help it, and I’ll take Ubers over public transport. 

However, I did just get horrific food poisoning from my business class breakfast on my LATAM flight home from South America. So fancier doesn’t always mean better, though I will say it is much nicer to spew your guts out in the private bathrooms in airport lounges. 

3. Your tastes in *literally* everything have improved (or evolved)

Wine. Food. Travel destinations. Style. Men. I can guarantee that your taste has improved across the board. This likely goes hand in hand with your financial situation improving too. Did I really used to wear dresses over jeans, with my hardcore side part fringe and pierced lip? My Facebook albums from 2007 sure show that I did. Last time I was in America I walked into an Urban Outfitters and then immediately walked right back out.

I remember studying abroad in Spain, and we used to drink Don Simón red wine in a box that cost one euro. Now for me, food culture has become one of my favorite parts of travel. I love exploring places through food. And good food does not always mean more expensive. I will sit on a bucket and devour street soups in Hong Kong just as much as I enjoyed a degustation lunch at Lung King Hee, the first Chinese restaurant in the world to receive three Michelin stars at the Four Seasons. What’s NOT great is that I can’t eat like I did in my twenties; such a bummer.

Even my taste in destinations has changed. I used to want to backpack and move as much as possible. I didn’t get to travel as a kid, and as soon as I could pay my own way, I went far and wide. Nowadays, Ibiza, Mykonos, and Las Vegas don’t really appeal to me anymore. Even though many cities aren’t as appealing, I’d rather stay in small towns or in the countryside. I suppose this is more of an evolution, not necessarily improving taste, but you get the drift.

4. Slowing down, mindfulness, and self-care matter

With age comes wisdom (allegedly), like jumping off a very high bridge in Slovenia in your twenties (omg, this is an adventure of a lifetime!) to in my thirties, where I reflect and think, wow, that was wildly unsafe. Nowadays, I like to slow down, go on a big hike or tramp, and challenge myself in other ways that are equally fulfilling in my thirties.  

My definition of self-care while traveling in my twenties was staying in the same hotel for more than one night and not eating instant noodles for breakfast. Instead of wanting to see everything, I now like to take it slow and base myself in one place. I even love to return to places I’ve been before that I loved so I can dig a little deeper. Solo female travel in your thirties is great because it taught me to be more mindful in every way.

I’m also way more aware of my presence and impact now when I’m traveling versus when I was younger. You know, simple things like following rules.  

5. Shifting priorities and no more discotecas

Gone are the days of “bartender, can I please order your strongest, cheapest drink?” I bet the things that interested you in your twenties while traveling are not the same as those in your thirties. In my twenties, I wanted to tick every single adventure off my bucket list. I just wanted to go full throttle.

Skydiving in Switzerland? Diving with sharks. Backpacking through Southeast Asia. Remember Vang Vieng in Laos? Or how about Thailand? I can still remember doing my advanced diving course in Koh Tao and waking up so hungover the next morning (and not in my room – oops) that I almost puked in my regulator and couldn’t finish the dives for the day. Shame, shame, shame. 

Nowadays, my priorities have shifted from parties, boys, and going big to birdwatching, spas, and yelling at people to turn the music down after 8 pm. While I travel for the same reasons: curiosity, experience, and adventure, my definitions of those things are no longer the same. Solo female travel in your thirties has really evolved into specific experiences that usually involve fine wine tasting.

 6. You realize that those cheap 6 am flights are never worth it. Don’t do it.

Enough said.

The post Solo female travel in your thirties? It’s so much better than you think appeared first on Young Adventuress.

Later, when I started sharing stories of solo female travel on my blog, it was unusual. Time and again, I was told that the world was a dangerous place for a girl by herself; I was called crazy for exploring on my own – often, ironically, by people who hadn’t traveled much at all.

In the end, I found the opposite to be true. I’ve had the best experiences, misadventures, and friendships all on my own – an education you can’t buy.

5 crazy solo female travel facts that will blow your mind

For the past few years, I’ve been yearning to get back to that feeling of discovery of landing in an entirely new place. There’s something so exciting about stepping off a plane in an unfamiliar country when you don’t know what’s happening around you. In that chaos and uncertainty is where the real fun begins.

Recently, I found myself in Santiago, Chile, on my own and not knowing anyone, with a few days to explore. I was on my way from New Zealand to Ushuaia at the bottom of Argentina, where I was leading my first trip to Antarctica. Air New Zealand no longer has their Auckland – Buenos Aires route (wah!!), so I had to fly LATAM for the first time. Verdict’s still out on that one. 

It felt so good to return to my travel roots, just to wander and see where I end up. I spent hours getting lost in the colorful back streets, checking out places I’ve longed to visit, like Pablo Neruda’s house, and munching on as many empanadas and pastries as possible.

Here are some snippets of 48 hours in Santiago, Chile. Enjoy!

1. Go for a wander and get lost

It has been a long time since I’ve stepped foot in a new city, exploring independently. It’s kind of crazy to think about. Before the covid lockdowns in New Zealand, I had created familiar travel paths, often returning to the same places en route to somewhere else. Dubai. Sydney. Hong Kong. I know them well.

After a big power nap at the hotel in Santiago, I hit the streets around Bellavista, where I was basing myself. In fact, I literally hit the streets. Looking at maps on my phone while walking, I stepped into a huge hole in the middle of the sidewalk. It was not a great start to the trip, but it did wake me up from the jetlag. Luckily nothing was broken except my ego.

As a magnet for misadventure, I never leave New Zealand without travel insurance anymore – the peace of mind comprehensive policies from Southern Cross Travel Insurance keep me company and allow me to fully relax and enjoy my travels while I’m overseas. Thankfully I didn’t need it because that would have been a big bummer. 

Realizing my folly, I popped my phone away and just started to wander, like how I used to travel. I would just follow the streets that seemed interesting and see where I would end up. I love all of the incredible street art and colorful buildings around Santiago. It was the perfect start to the trip. Just don’t walk and look at your phone at the same time in cities where the sidewalks are anything but uniform.

2. Eat all the things

I have long advocated for getting to know a place through its food. I was super happy to jump right back into trying all the things. With only 48 hours in Santiago, Chile, I knew I had to plan my meals carefully to make the most of them. Anyone else do this?

Back in this neck of South America, I knew my first feed would be empanadas. In Chile, their empanadas are called empanadas de pino, and their big, fat, and generously stuffed with beef, raisins, onions, olives, and hard-boiled eggs. Wait, don’t click away yet; it’s actually delicious. The perfect comfort food. Another dish I saw everywhere was pastel de choclo, which is kind of like a corn pie stuffed with the same ingredients as the empanadas. But what I was dying to try again were humitas, which are like freshly stuffed corn cakes wrapped in the husk. So yummy!

I love learning new food words in Spanish when I’m traveling. In Spain, I learned so much, but it varies so widely. I had never heard of “pino” or “choclo” before this trip. 

3. Visit Pablo Neruda’s house

I have loved the poetry of Pablo Neruda for a long time. Perhaps one of the greatest poets composing in Spanish, his work transcends language and is universally popular. In fact, he’s probably Chile’s most famous son.

When I studied at the University of Salamanca in Spain when I was 19, there was a wall near one of my school buildings that had a famous Neruda quote graffitied on it: “Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.” In English, it roughly means “I want to do with you what spring does to the cherry trees.” It sounds better in Spanish. But I’ve been a Neruda fan ever since. 

One of the three houses Neruda owned in Chile is in Santiago, La Chascona. They’re all museums and absolutely worth visiting. It’s super quirky and filled with the most amazing art, sprawling over many levels where the indoors and outdoors merge together. Another Chilean word, La Chascona, refers to his secret lover’s big curly red hair. 

4. Stay at the Hotel Boutique Castillo Rojo

The travel industry is very much finding its feet after years of pandemic wonkiness, and there’s no denying that the world has changed a lot in the fifteen years since I first moved to Spain. Instead of calling cards, we have fancy phones, and we can tap our credit cards instead of exchanging cash.

Not to mention I’ve changed too – no more hostels or big backpacks, or sleeping on airport floors for this girl.

I spent ages figuring out the best place during my 48 hours in Santiago, Chile. I finally settled on the Hotel Boutique Castillo Rojo because it’s incredibly charming. And it was amazing. Close to everything I wanted to see. It also has beautiful outdoor gardens and a great in-house little bar and restaurant. Money well spent.

5. Soak in the sunset on San Cristóbal Hill 

Without even planning it, my feet somehow led me toward a beautiful hill in the city as the day was wrapping up. Without really thinking, I knew this would be a great spot to watch the sunset. 

San Cristóbal Hill is the city’s largest green space and public park with incredible views. You can take a cable car up to the top, with many paths and places to wander around. Of course, there’s a big statue of La Virgen de la Inmaculada Concepción because we’re in a Catholic country. 

While it’s definitely not a secret spot and will be packed with people, it’s still worth the journey up for the views. 

Any tips to add to 48 hours in Santiago, Chile? Share!

The post 48 hours in Santiago, Chile appeared first on Young Adventuress.

Once I moved to New Zealand, I really got into tramping, ticking long walks and bigger adventures off my bucket list year after year. One of the first adventures I ever did was flying into the Siberia Valley in the heart of Mt. Aspiring National Park. Dropping our packs at the Siberia Hut, my friends and I made our way up to Lake Crucible for the day. I can still remember being nervous.

Back then, there wasn’t heaps of info online, and I knew there were quite a few river crossings, something I hadn’t done on my own before. The next day I tramped a few hours down the track to get picked up on a jet boat back to Makarora while others at the hut were heading over the iconic Gillespie Pass. I knew one day I would go back!

6 epic backcountry adventures for first-time solo trampers

When I saw that the NZ Mountain Safety Council released one of their amazing tramping videos about the Gillespie Pass Circuit this summer, I knew it was my time to tackle it. With many kilometers under melt and now years of experience tramping in the New Zealand backcountry, I was ready to solo tramp the Gillespie Pass for the first time. 

Over fifty kilometers long, with a thousand meters ascent and descent on the same day over the pass itself, I knew it was going to be really hard for me. But when things get hard are when I thrive. I find a lot of joy in challenging myself physically in the mountains and coming out on the other side. 

For me, there is a lot of therapy in nature. It’s been a tough summer, as I navigate a new path that I wasn’t expecting. Being able to escape into the hills, breathing in the fresh air, and not having my phone ping have been absolute lifesavers. It’s given me the space to think, create, ponder and dream. I value it. Can you relate?

The Gillespie Pass Circuit is a relatively tricky 3-4 day tramp in Mt. Aspiring National Park. Beautiful beech forests, alpine rivers and meadows, and an incredible climb over the Gillespie Pass itself make it one of the best hikes I’ve ever done. Also, one of the hardest. 

A tried and true diehard solo traveler, I knew I wanted to solo tramp the Gillespie Pass all on my own. I enjoyed the challenge of it. A notorious track that’s claimed quite a few lives over the years (all drownings), I knew I was going to be smart about it. The track’s start and end can involve two river crossings that can only be described as HECTIC under the best of circumstances. I don’t like crossing rivers above my mid-thigh alone, so I knew I would opt for transfers in and out of the track. 

The rivers might look blue and picturesque, but they can flood quickly. Even the tiny creeks you cross can turn into torrents quickly. The creek two minutes from Siberia Hut can easily become flooded, making the hut inaccessible. 

River crossings are a significant cause of tramping deaths in New Zealand. From underestimating rivers, choosing the wrong place to cross, crossing in bad weather, or when the river is flooded, it is essential to respect Mother Natch here in Aotearoa. 

Warning signs of an unsafe river according to NZ Mountain Safety Council:

• Water moving faster than average walking pace
• Discolored, cloudy, surging water
• Visible debris in the river, such as tree branches
• The sound of rolling boulders on the river bed

If in doubt, stay out.

You can opt-out of the river crossings by organizing the Gillespie Pass track transport. You can get the jetboat in and out of the Young River mouth and avoid crossing the Makarora River. And you can jetboat in and out of the Kerin Forks Hut track side of the river, both with Wilkin River Jets. You can also fly into the Siberia Valley by helicopter organized by the same guys.

Wilkin River Jets are the guys that offer the Siberia Wilderness Experience, which I did about seven years ago – New Zealand’s best day adventure.

You fly into the Siberia Valley with a day pack, get a scenic helicopter flight around the stunning Mt. Aspiring National Park like a total badass, then get dropped off in the valley. You then hike for a few hours along the Wilkin side of the Gillespie Pass before getting picked up by jet boat and headed back to Makarora. It’s an epic way to get a taste of the area. 

Since I was a bit strapped for time, I opted to fly into the Siberia Valley to start the tramp, especially since I had already walked that side before. 

Wilkin River Jets flew me in with my pack to the Siberia Hut and a few other trampers keen to take advantage of an epic weather window. Siberia Hut is one of those famous DOC huts that require bookings in advance in the summertime. It’s very much a crossroads in Mt. Aspiring, so it’s always busy, and it’s an excellent base for adventures. 

With beautiful weather on the horizon and my book draft turned into my editor the day before, I knew I needed to escape to the mountains for a few days. To solo tramp, the Gillespie Pass was just what the doctor ordered!

After reading all about it, talking to friends, digging through the Plan My Walk app, and registering my plans, I packed up and headed off to Makarora on the first day of autumn. Don’t worry; it was still very much summertime. A fact which I promptly forgot. 

Dropping my pack at the hut, I grabbed my day pack and started the walk up to the iconic Lake Crucible, a stunning turquoise alpine lake. Lake Crucible is a popular day trip on the Gillespie Pass; as it’s off the main track, a 6-8 return from the hut, it’s not all that short of a walk. 

The sun was beginning to peak over the valley’s steep sides as I wove my away along the most stunning track. I was joined by a kind lady I met earlier who wanted to go up to the lake but didn’t want to alone. 

And here, dear friends, is where I made one of my first mistakes of the trip.

I’m one of those people who struggle to eat in the morning. I usually don’t eat anything before noon; I don’t have the appetite. But when you’re doing something physically challenging like tramping, you need that morning energy from food, and you have to keep eating all day to keep it up. I didn’t eat enough that morning, which I would feel the effects from soon. 

Once you walk along the valley floor, crossing a few smaller rivers and creeks (which can rise quickly), you’ll come to a steep climb in the beech forest with one more creek to cross before leveling out in the basin before climbing up a moraine wall to the lake. Before long, the bright sun was beating down on us, but with the lovely mountain breeze, I didn’t really feel the impact of it. Suddenly, as I could see the lake in the distance, I started to feel off. Like not good. I was feeling so hot yet shivering, my arms and legs felt weak, and the color sort of disappeared from the world. I thought I was going to spew or faint or both.

Uh oh.

Without realizing it, I was well on my way to heatstroke, I believe. It was a piping hot day, and I was overheating badly. I slowly made my way up to the lake before immediately submerging myself in the icy water. After scarfing down a lunch I had put off eating until I got to the lake (mistake) and resting with my feet in the water, I started to feel much better, just a bit weak. 

I was so focused on other parts of the tramp that I forgot the most essential and basic care of myself. Eat well and a lot, hydrate a lot and wear a hat and sunscreen. 

I made my way back to the hut, which took me 8 hours to return. I was happy to arrive at Lake Crucible. I was going to monitor how I was feeling. If I woke up feeling crook, I wouldn’t attempt to go over the pass the next day. 

After a nice big dinner and catching up with the ranger, who I met in an amazingly kiwi small world moment while I was in Antarctica years ago, I hit the sack. 

I felt pretty good the following day, so I had a big brekkie and hit the track. Today was the most significant day climbing over the 1600 meter Gillespie Pass. With no water above the bush line, you must make sure you fill up in the last rivers and creeks before attempting the traverse. Retracing my steps back up the valley, the long climb through the beech began, which I found not as steep as expected. 

You can walk the Gillespie Pass in either direction, though most people begin from the other side on the Young Valley, while I was attempting from the Siberia side. This means that I had a longer, less steep, but still steep climb up with a super steep descent. Generally, people say it’s harder and longer to walk in this direction. I say it’ll be hard no matter what.

The suggested DOC times between the Young Hut and Siberia Hut are 6-8 hours. It took me 12. Holy crap. I’m never usually over these suggested times, and I heard from many people that it takes them much longer to complete than traverse than expected. This means you need to build in extra time, especially once the days become shorter. When planning to solo tramp the Gillespie Pass, factor in extra time.

Granted, I’m always extra prepared. If I get stuck, I carry an emergency bivy and even an extra mat if the huts are full. I knew I would be slow after feeling sick the day before, so I just took my time. I was also taking many photos, birding and botanizing, two of my favorite things. But still, I was shocked it took me so long to solo tramp the Gillespie Pass, and I regret not starting earlier. 

Especially since I took photos of the sunset along the Young Valley, which meant that I had to walk the last hour and a half to the hut through the forest in the dark, which I didn’t love, the orange markers weren’t super easy to spot in the dark, even with my excellent head torch. I didn’t get to Young Hut til 10 pm. 

The pass itself was one of the most beautiful days I’ve ever had tramping. The views were incredible as you walk along the top, with rock wrens, kea, and pipits to keep you company. Lorded over by Mt. Awful and Mt. Dreadful (someone had a bad day while naming these), the views alone were worth it. The alpine plants were terrific, and all of the delicious snowberries were ready to be eaten by the handful. 

Even though I was sick and the traverse was challenging, it wasn’t as hard or as steep as I thought it would be. 

That being said, I would say it’s definitely a track for experienced trampers in New Zealand. It’s a lot of root climbing, climbing over boulders, big steps up and down, and very long days. You have to be smart where you step, and hiking poles helped tremendously. There weren’t really any parts on the traverse where I felt like I might fall off the mountain, even on the steep descent. But you did need to have your wits about you. You must make sure you chose the right spots to plant your feet. 

By day three, with wet boots, my feet were peeling and painful. Several of my precious toenails showed imminent signs of falling off; I still felt a bit weak. My quads were killing me, and once again, I should have allowed for more time. I gave myself 7 hours to get to the jetboat pick-up when I should have allocated longer.

The 20-kilometer long walk out of the valley is meant to be relatively easy. However, it’s still very long, with many ups and downs over tree roots in the forest. On another super hot day, I found myself a lot slower than usual. Usually, I’m pretty fast on the last day. Motivated by the finish line and the prospect of taking off my boots once and for all, scarfing down a gigantic burger with no regrets, I can be fast. This time I was slow – feeling a bit weak, I made sure I was extra careful everywhere I stood and climbed. I didn’t want to stumble and injure myself.

But I was tired. It took me over 8 hours to walk out, and I missed my jetboat pick-up. Unsure of what to do, I kept going before the Wilkin jetboat driver popped out on the trail looking for me. Wow. I was super grateful and super embarrassed at the same time. Helping me with my pack, we walked the last few kilometers together before boosting back to Makarora on the jetboat. The jetboat in and out of the Young Valley is really affordable at only $25.

You can also carry on for an additional seven kilometers and use the bridge at the Blue Pools to cross the river. It’s an extra 1.5-2 hours, but it means no river crossing to start or finish the track.

To solo tramp, the Gillespie Pass is not an easy undertaking. Even with all of my mistakes, I got fortunate. Even with my experience, you can easily stuff up in the bush with high consequences. While I felt really prepared and followed all of the right steps, there are still quite a few things I could have done better. 

I should have budgeted in more time for each day, ensuring I ate plenty of food and snacked a lot more on the track itself. I drank lots of water but could have probably drunk even more and made sure to wear a hat and sunscreen the whole time I walked. 

I got fortunate that the Wilkin Jetboats came to look for me when I missed my pick-up. I always register my intent on the Plan My Walk app, with friends, and in this case, with transport. It was a fantastic adventure I appreciate all the more in retrospect, and I’m grateful for the lessons I’m taking away from it. To solo tramp the Gillespie Pass might be my new greatest tramping achievement.

Have you ever done something similar? What’s the most challenging track you’ve tackled? Any tips to add? Share!

Many thanks to NZ Mountain Safety Council for supporting me this summer on the tracks. Like always, I’m keeping it real; all opinions are my own like you could expect less from me.

The post A solo adventure on the Gillespie Pass appeared first on Young Adventuress.

As someone who climbs (much smaller) mountains, this phrase resonates with me on a million levels.

I go to nature to challenge myself, to find strength and build resilience, and in many ways, to feel so utterly human in a world that has become much less human. Inspiration comes to me from my friends and people who seem real and relatable, tackling the complex and finding triumph.

I’m especially inspired by women doing hard things. So listen up as I share something powerful around women in Switzerland.

Like many around the world, I didn’t grow up with female role models of women outdoors. But, for those of you who did, let the record state, I’m jealous of you.

As a kid, Girl Scouts, camping, canoeing, and hiking consumed me. I used to have one of those big metal-framed Kelty backpacks in a deep blue that weighed a TON. But as I grew up, I spent less and less time outside chasing adventure.

This is a common narrative, with many stats showing that girls and women have fewer outdoor opportunities than men, especially as they get older. 

Overcoming hardship, challenging myself physically, and arriving somewhere by my own two feet is an empowering feeling. All of my childhood memories are from being outside, walking through forests, and hanging out beneath willow trees. As a teen, I forgot the therapy of nature until I traveled abroad to Europe at 19. That year I visited Switzerland for the first time, spending a weekend in Interlaken seeking adventure.

For the first time I gazed upon a glacier, I fell in love.

Being in nature makes me feel alive. I know I’m not the only one if my Pinterest boards are anything to judge by.

Only with my move to New Zealand in my mid-twenties did a passion for nature ignite within me again.

My feet carried me up mountains, and my heart yearned for sunlit valleys and rocky mountaintops dotted with snow. My work and my travel began to spin towards nature-based adventures. Climbing mountains, riding horses, diving. You name it. I did it.

Nowhere gripped me more than Switzerland, where I’ve visited more than half a dozen times in recent years.

25 photos that will make you fall in love with Switzerland

As travel became visual and the world evolves, more and more women have been out in nature again, a renaissance of empowered females taking on the mountains in a very much male-dominated space.

I write for them. I meet them on my travels. This is my great work.

You don’t need me to tell you that nature empowers women. We’ve all seen the Instagram photos. The past decade has been a veritable revolution for women in the outdoors, and I am here for it!

And when I saw that Switzerland’s tourism board has made female travel a core part of their operations and marketing, I whooped with glee. I’m so stoked to see that Switzerland, the place that ignited my passion for big mountains when I was 19, has created hundreds of tourism offerings designed BY women FOR women.

They’ve got over 200 experiences on women’s only adventures, created and guided by only women, from mountaineering courses to yoga retreats and everything in between. This is how you lead as a business. I can’t wait to get back to Switzerland and back to the Alps for adventures, as well as shameless amounts of raclette. 

With the shared goal of bringing women together and experiencing nature, you shouldn’t be surprised this was something I could get behind. The majority of offers are for outdoor adventures and experiences led by female guides. Ka-boom, let’s keep smashing those glass ceilings and sharing the power of women in nature – we’re unstoppable.

Globally we need more stories of empowered women. They are there. Now it’s time to give them a stage.

Let’s be honest here, men dominate the great stories of alpinism and mountaineering. But truth be told, women have been kicking ass on the mountains for hundreds of years, all while wearing wool skirts and getting no recognition for it. Switzerland is aiming to change that by creating NEW female mountaineering role models. 

As part of their initiative to inspire women in the outdoors, Switzerland has launched the COOLEST project – 100% Women Peak Challenge, where all 48 of Switzerland’s 4,000 meter high mountains will be climbed by women’s-only teams from now until October – and you can join in too (excuse me while I figure out how I can get myself over to Europe for this).

Let’s get more women on top of mountains!

Have you been to Switzerland? Can you relate to this post about empowering women in Switzerland? Who are your female heroes? Share!

Many thanks to My Switzerland for sponsoring this story – like always, I’m keeping it real like you could expect less from me!

The post How Switzerland is leading the way for women in the outdoors appeared first on Young Adventuress.

I always wanted to eat, pray, love my way to happiness like an Indian Liz Gilbert, an idea that developed by misunderstanding her journey. Most of my earlier trips were my attempts to outrun my emotional baggage, but Gilbert faced them head-on, and so could I.

In 2015, after graduating and landing a full-time job as a librarian in the US, an uncomfortable quietness took root in my life. Too much time and a lack of distractions brought up long-forgotten feelings. To avoid all of that, I booked a solo trip to Italy, started packing, and bought a selfie stick (don’t judge me).

To the traveler who wishes they could be anywhere else right now

The romanticized life of a traveler seemed more appealing than going on a personal journey of self-improvement. It’s only now that quarantine has given me (forced) time to reflect on my solo travels and how it’s prepared me for the world we face today.

Here are some of the critical ways that solo travel prepared me for solo quarantine.

1. Having power over my time again

While prancing about in Florence, I indulged in vino rosso like a native Italian in whatever restaurant that caught my attention. I marveled at sights like Piazza Della Signoria, where a 15th-century mob had broken Michelangelo’s David. I took a history tour and found the church, Santa Margherita de’ Cerchi, where Dante had once stalked his crush.

Doing only what I wanted to do, especially on vacation, was a freedom I did not value until I experienced it. After America finally started taking COVID19 somewhat seriously in March, my boss told me that we might be teleworking for like two weeks (spoiler alert: it’s not just for two weeks). It felt like he told me to go on summer vacation.

I had music blasting in my condo while I created reports for work. I stayed in my pajamas all day, even when I attended virtual meetings (thank God it was audio only). Being in the comfort of my own home helped me be even more productive than if I was physically at work. No more extended coffee breaks because my coffee maker was only 5 feet from my work table. No back problems because I could simply take my laptop to my couch.

It felt like I had so much power over what my workday looked like. I even rejoiced at not having any social life as the urge to do something disappeared continually. You can’t have FOMO if everyone is in lockdown. My favorite comedian once remarked that canceling plans is like heroin, but I say having no plans is even better. Yes, I am one of those introverts who mocked extroverts at the start of the pandemic.

2. You can ask for help, and it’s ok

Recognizing the things that I have control over helped me stay sane in quarantine. I read somewhere that when people are worrying, they are uncertain about their ability to control important outcomes. When I started to worry about things I couldn’t control, like how the US is handling the pandemic, anxiety took over.

After three weeks of quarantine, something changed. I started getting restless. I hit a threshold of not socializing; even the most reserved introverts need people, and being around loved ones helps ease my anxiety. Unfortunately, my adamant and unhealthy pattern of not reaching out to people when I needed them began to surface.

I started journaling more frequently and reflected about the time I spent at the picturesque villages of Cinque Terre along the Italian Riviera.  I met and befriended a fellow solo traveler named Buddy. We had similar post-graduation blues, and I particularly resonated with him on feeling adrift with no direction in life.

Making friends as an adult has been an extremely vexing process, and I cherish the people I can have a relaxed conversation with. When we returned to Florence, I wondered if he would want to get dinner. A barrage of self-defeating and anxious thoughts shot through my mind: you are asking him to spend the whole day with you; don’t be desperate; he might hang out with you out of pity; he might have plans.

My awkward self shouted goodbye and walked away from the bus station, unnecessarily fast. Yes, I have a unique talent in pushing people away — my motto used to be “Reject them before they reject you.”

While in quarantine, I spent a good couple of weeks isolating myself from friends and family.

The same types of thoughts appeared, and I was scared to reach out because I didn’t want to be a burden. It’s sometimes so hard to need people. Thankfully, I reached out to a friend, told them I missed them and, to my surprise, set up a Zoom date. I asked another friend for emotional support and prefaced my text with “Are you in a good place emotionally to handle my sad story?”

I am learning to take space and be honest about my needs with myself and others. It wasn’t as serious with Buddy; I hadn’t been isolated from human presence, but dinner would have been an excellent way to say goodbye to a new friend.

There’s no shame in asking for helping or opening up to trust someone. 

3. Don’t go posting only happiness

Later that same evening in Florence, I desperately searched for a trattoria with wifi. I wanted to upload my photos on Instagram with riveting captions such as Treat yo self  (Tom Haverford would have been proud). Posting pictures on social media helped me feel seen when I felt lonely.

It never even occurred to me that I should contemplate the origins of my feelings.

One of the biggest lessons I have learned in life is that your pain is never really about others but an emotional autobiography.

For example, when I revisited the night I left Buddy at the bus station, I remembered feeling slightly resentful of him. Let’s dissect that further; what does that affect? My self-esteem. What are my mistakes? I didn’t ask him to hang out either, nor did I express my feelings or ideas. What does that mean? Rejection frightened me. Why? Because of my deep-rooted fear of not being good enough. What could I have done differently? I wish I realized that my worth is not tied to his rejection or acceptance of my invite. I also wish I realized that I can’t use a person to avoid feeling lonely.

It feels shitty to be brutally honest, but hiding behind Instagram or other addictions no longer served me. In quarantine, I charge through the discomfort. When I seek validation outside of myself, it is then that I need self-love the most.

4. Put your credit card away

They say confession is good for the soul, and I could’ve easily walked into a church. You are never far from a church in Florence. But what would I have said? Dear father, I don’t know how to feel good about myself. I wouldn’t let myself go full Bojack Horseman, so I unconsciously looked for a distraction, something else to worry about.

Instead, I turned to a classic addiction that many of us use for self-comfort: shopping. 

In Florence, leather is one of the most popular souvenirs. I knew nothing about leather, but after 10 minutes of window shopping, I bought into the idea that a brown leather jacket — an authentic and not at all fraudulent product — made me look good.  I wandered through the crowds that day, contemplating the 100 Euro blow to my wallet. The label by the collar read Vere Pelle. Well, if the label says real leather, then it must be true, I remember thinking furiously.

I bought a small cup of gelato to abate my feelings of shame. Everything near the Piazza del Duomo was overpriced. It is after all the heart of the city. I paid for the experience of sitting in front of a beautiful church and for a taste of La Dolce Vita. Amidst all that drama I created, I got a reprieve from my inner turmoil.

When quarantine started, I knew I had to have strict boundaries about spending money. Initially, not being able to eat out or physically go to stores worked wonders until I started shopping online. It’s insane how efficiently shopping blinds me from emotions like boredom.

So to save, I write down items I want to impulsively buy and wait a few days to see if I still need it. Ninety-five percent of the time, the desperation disappears. Just another example of how solo travel prepared me for solo quarantine.

5. Let it all out

On the last day of the trip, I trekked out to Piazzale Michelangelo to see the Florentine skyline with a bottle of wine.

I walked away from cheerful tourists, as people were increasingly irritating to be around, and found refuge at San Salvatore al Monte, a nearby church. I drank Chianti from the bottle as the sun went down in brilliant fiery colors. The Duomo rose magnificently from among the sea of terracotta roofs. Voices of people singing hymns in the church carried over to where I sat perched on a wall. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I just let them all fall.

The uncomfortable emotions, present before my travels, finally caught up. I had difficulty identifying my feelings as I had spent so many years in denial of them.

When Mass ended, a woman broke away from her group and walked up to where I sat feeling sorry for myself. All the Italian I took in college, plus the intermittent self-tutoring, did not prepare me for this woman’s vernacular. Embarrassed at being caught crying with a bottle of wine, I didn’t know what to say. She gave up trying to help me understand and walked back to her group.

The woman’s intrusion helped me break out of my self-hating stupor, and I was grateful.

Looking back, that little moment at the church was the beginning of my journey toward healing. I started asking the right questions: what am I feeling and why? It would take several years for me to unpack my emotional baggage and to learn tools on how to challenge my self-defeating thoughts effectively. I had to be honest about my shortcomings and confront my demons.

In so many profound ways, solo travel prepared me for solo quarantine today. After establishing a solid foundation, I am happy to report that I am thriving, even in solo-quarantine. It’s an ongoing process, working on myself is like peeling an onion — there is always something else hidden underneath of what I uncover.

What experiences helped you prepare for the world we face today? Did your travels offer any lessons to cope with a locked-down world? Share!

The post 5 ways solo travel prepared me for solo quarantine appeared first on Young Adventuress.

I’d really been enjoying traveling alone when it happened; you know, love. That thing that always happens when we least expect it, right? Yes, I fell in love with my tour guide on a solo trip.

While I think solo travel is something everyone should do at some point in their life, often life will surprise your plans. After all, there’s nothing quite like losing yourself in foreign cultures, following your well-worn paper map, trusting your gut instinct, and doing whatever the hell you want exploring the world. You don’t need me to tell you that it’s absolutely liberating.

I’d been doing just this for six months in Europe. I’d looked at stunning views in Scotland, skied in the heart of the French Alps, sunned myself in the south of France, and eaten my fair share of Andalucia olives in southern Spain. Biking across English countryside with a good friend, breathing in the history in Berlin, and guzzling the original Czech Pilsner, I was in heaven. My eyes had feasted on golden Portuguese cliffs and my spirits had risen high.

Freedom!

I was a solo female traveler through and through, trekking my way across borders with no end date and no end destination. Living one day at a time. Taking each moment as it comes. Being present and being me. It was amazing.

But then it all changed from a miserable low to a huge high in the blink of an eye, just like that. Let me tell you.

Farewelling Prague on my solo travels, I arrived in Brno to explore the Czech Republic’s second-biggest city.

Tired, I dragged myself off the sweaty bus, hauled my bag on my back, and headed to the hostel I had booked just that morning. I was too early to check-in but thankfully the receptionist let me drop off my big pack.

That was all though; no welcoming map or the wifi password or any kind words (some other hostels are amazingly welcoming). A cursory glance around told me the hostel was very basic. And I was the only one there too.

I headed out to Brno with my small bag of valuables, eventually sitting down in a park called Kluziště (at the time, I thought this was the center of Brno; later I found out how wrong I had been). Plopping down underneath a tree, I ate some disappointing bread and hummus I’d had with me on the bus.

I had to move trees because some people next to me started furiously arguing, a bit too close to comfort. I feared for my bag. It also smelt like piss. What was I doing here? I wished I had gone straight to Poland. The loneliness pricked at me after seeing some Kiwi friends in Prague and having such a good time with them.

Leaking silent tears and feeling sad and sorry for myself, I waited until it was time to check-in to return to the hostel (and on wifi).

I made a plan to get out of my despair; I’d go to a big supermarket that looked nearby on the map, and choose things for a really tasty dinner. I’d have a bit of self-care time, make a decadent meal for one. Planning to have a movie night in, I chilled out. The next day I could work on my laptop in my private office (a.k.a. hostel dining room) since Brno seemingly didn’t have much to offer and I had no bunkmates – thankfully.

I did it all – and just as I was heading to bed, I saw on the edge of the reception desk a flyer for a free walking tour. Aha! I thought. There must be something in this town if there’s enough to make a walking tour out of it! Resolving to give it a go the next day, I felt better for having a plan that would involve other people and not just my currently miserable self.

Little did I know, I would meet Martin.

When I woke up in the morning, I’d slept off my bad mood, and realized it had been my first uninterrupted sleep in weeks. Clearly I was exhausted!

The sun shone brightly into the hostel, and I almost skipped to breakfast. I poured the oats I’d bought into a bowl – only to realize they weren’t oats. Did it look suspiciously like semolina? I looked at the packet again and Google Translate confirmed my suspicions. Sigh. Determined not to let it burst my new positivity bubble, I added yogurt and banana and chewed and swallowed the grit anyway.

I downloaded offline maps and walked a few streets over to Náměstí Svobody, the main square. Laughing guiltily, I realized I hadn’t even been to the center yesterday, but I had already judged the whole city.

The sky was bright blue. Today would be a good day.

I spotted the guide preparing his tour stick, and people started to gather around him. Soon we were in a group, signing a clipboard and chatting and I felt involved again. In a team. Not so alone. The guide’s name was Martin, and his enthusiasm was infectious. I could feel his passion when he spoke drawing me in.

He explained that it was a public holiday, and most locals had left the city for the countryside; that’s why it was quiet.

Halfway through the tour, I realized I was actually enjoying myself. I started to love this city!

How quirky is the crooked spire on the Town Hall because of the architect’s revenge of not being paid a fair amount! How captivating that once upon a time there was an escaped crocodile in the River Svratka and people thought it was a dragon! Who knew about Brno in the Thirty Years War and how they managed to hold off the Swedes in a giant siege? And what about the couple making love over the window of Jacob’s Church? Not to mention the well-endowed horse, the student population, vegan scene, indie coffee shops, and freelancer paradise…

Wow.

After the tour, I sat on a bench nearby, trying to recall every detail, every nugget of information. Brno truly was a beautiful, undiscovered place. Realizing my misjudment, I felt a mix of guilt and appreciation.

Martin came over to me, asked what I was writing, and then suggested we continue our conversation over coffee. Coffee turned into lunch, and we met again in the evening for beers.

Beers turned into wines. And as the view of the city lights stretched out before us in the dark, as our legs swung on the city defense walls, our fingers interlinked.

Sigh.

I returned a month later, and we spent the last of the summer exploring together; the regions, countryside, and each other. 

We crossed borders and traveled countries together, and then he took me home to his family in Germany. Back in Brno, it grew colder, and autumn turned into winter. We made plans to travel to Asia and then move into an apartment together, right in the heart of the city where we’d met. Falling in love with my tour guide was beautiful and unexpected.

I soon became an English teacher, and he still helps people who come to Brno experience the city in the best possible human way. We often joke together to his tour guests that I am his greatest success story. 

These days, I walk with purpose through that same park – Kluziště – to get to work, dressed in fresh blouses, smelling of shampoo, well-fed, safe, and inspired. I occasionally glance over to the tree under which I sat miserably, almost two years ago, and remind myself not to take anything for granted.

Life – just like traveling – is a network of paths, and every day we choose which ones to walk down. There are inevitable highs and lows on this journey of time, and it’s our job to navigate them – without a map or guide.

Well, I have my guide.

Would you believe I fell in love with my tour guide while on my solo trip of a lifetime? Can you relate? Have you ever misjudged a place before? Spill!

The post So, I fell in love with my tour guide. Cliché, I know. appeared first on Young Adventuress.

Since arriving in Greenland, I’ve dogsledded one of the oldest trails in human history, I’ve visited huts in the fjords of Nuuk and–most recently–I’ve seen a whole lot of sheep vaginas while lambing in South Greenland.

South Greenland is made up of a handful of towns and several small settlements, spread out over a network of fjords in the southernmost tip of the country. Just as in the rest of Greenland, there are no roads connecting towns.

Travel is done by boat, plane, or helicopter.

The slightly warmer weather allows for farming both livestock and produce, neither of which you’ll see much of in the north.

Recently, I spent five days fully immersed in the life of Sillisit sheep farm, located near Narsarsuaq in South Greenland. It’s run by Elna Jensen and Henrik Knudsen, who also have a hostel and cabins on the farm where travelers can wake up to mega views and plenty of grass-munching sheep. Lambing season was in full swing, meaning over 600 sheep were ready to give birth. I was there to help out in any way possible.

Here are the five things I learned while lambing in South Greenland.

1. Sheep farming is living history

You can’t talk about sheep farms in the south without also mentioning the UNESCO World Heritage sites.

When the Norse settled on the southern tip of Greenland in 1000 C.E., they brought with them livestock from Iceland. While we don’t know what happened to the Norse people, the remnants of their lives can be found all over the fjords. Some of these ruins are almost entirely standing buildings––like Hvalsey church, located at the last recorded settlement of the Norse people in Greenland––but most look like little more than mottled rocks to the untrained eye.

South Greenland is the only place in the country where Inuit communities stopped hunting to become farmers.

Modern-day agriculture in Greenland was heavily influenced by the colonists of the 18th and 19th centuries, who reintroduced the practice inspired by their home countries. Sillisit is one of 36 sheep farms in South Greenland and lies within walking distance of the UNESCO World Heritage site.

Today, their sheep graze freely around Inuit and Norse ruins, a symbolic melding of past and present.

2. Someone is always sleeping during lambing season

Elna and Henrik make most of their living by selling their lambs and sheep to the slaughterhouse: the healthier the animals, the better the meat, the higher the price. It is in their best interest to keep their animals as healthy and happy as possible.

One could argue then that out of all the seasons, lambing is the most critical time for Elna and Henrik. This is when they ensure that all of the care and preparation and feeding of the previous months pays off in lots of healthy moms and babies.

What does that mean for the lambing season? 24/7 baby-sitting.

The sheep are impregnated naturally (there is no artificial insemination in Greenland!) by sticking a ram into a pen with a bunch of sheep and letting nature take its course. This is done in stages with different groups of sheep so that not everyone pops at the same time.

But, as we all know, a due date is not a precise fact.

So once those babies start coming, there needs to be at least one person in the barn at all times of day and night to help out. Most sheep don’t need assistance when giving birth, but because Elna and Henrik’s literal livelihood depends on having healthy lambs, they don’t take any chances.

Elna and Henrik hire extra help during this time. It is all hands on deck. If you’re not in the barn, you are either eating or sleeping. I stuck to the same schedule as Elna and Kira, her nine-year-old daughter/farmer-in-training. Our daily lambing schedule went something like this:

10am-1pm: Barn

1-2pm: Lunch

2pm-7pm: Barn

7-8pm: Dinner

8pm-10pm: Rest

10pm-1am: Barn

The night and early morning lambing shifts were covered by their hired farmhand, Henrik, and Kim, along with their 13-year-old son.

3. The miracle of life is messy AF

Within minutes of jumping off the boat at Sillisit farm––and I mean jump, the “dock” is just a rocky shore––I was witnessing my first birth during lambing in South Greenland. Before Sillisit, I had never seen any birth up close.

By the end of my five days of lambing in South Greenland, I had seen well over 50 of them. For all you folks uninitiated into the Miracle of Life Club, it is WILD.

You can tell a sheep is about to go into labor because a goopy substance starts leaking out of her vagina. Often, a sequence of large bubbles then appear. They dangle like Christmas ornaments from her lady bits, until they pop, either from their weight or occasionally from being punctured by another sheep’s horns.

In a healthy delivery, the first things to appear are two little hooves followed by a nose. Lambs can be born with or without horns–and if I were a sheep, I’d be praying for a lifetime of hornless children.

Blood, goo, poop–everything comes out at once during birth. Some sheep hardly seem to notice they have a child poking out of their vagina, while others are bellowing in labor.

4. Farmers have to make some really hard decisions

It took me half a day before I was mentally ready to jump in the pen myself. While the labor may take minutes or hours, once the lamb is ready, it tends to shoot out in a matter of seconds. My hands were there to grab the slippery bundle of where-the-hell-am-I!

In the easiest of lambing deliveries, humans are on hand to make sure small issues don’t become big problems. We clear the lamb’s mouth of any womb goo, spray the belly button with iodine to prevent infection, and separate the mom and baby from the pack, so no one gets trampled.

As a complete lambing novice, I was able to help out in these situations very quickly.

When complications arise, Elna or Henrik take over—turning a lamb that is breached inside the womb—intervening when a sheep doesn’t immediately take to her child. Their expertise allows them to assess a situation quickly and efficiently because, as farmers, they’ve seen it all.

Sometimes, sad things happen. A lamb is stillborn. A sheep dies from an infection.

Other times, very tough decisions need to be made. If a lamb is breached and can’t be turned by hand, both the child and mother will die. Elna and Henrik must then act quickly. They will kill the sheep to save the life of the lamb.

While they try not to be too emotionally connected to the animals, you can see that Elna and Henrik are deeply affected by these losses. Some of the sheep were once bottle-fed lambs, running freely around the barn and fed by hand four times a day. They have names and personalities.

When a sheep dies, the whole family feels it. But with 599 other sheep needing your attention, you have no choice but to move on to the next birth.

5. Bottle-fed lambs are the cutest

Slimy and wet, just-born lambs have way too many sheep fluids on them to be adorable. But after a good cleaning by mom, and a few hours to dry out, lambs are suddenly pretty darn cute.

And the bottle-fed lambs are by far my favorites. These lambs have usually had a rough start to life. Sometimes the mother has died, or the lamb was born a twin, and she only has enough milk for one lamb to survive. In these cases, the lamb is raised separately from its mother and will be bottle-fed.

When I first arrived at Sillisit, two lambs greeted me, a dynamic duo allowed to roam free throughout the barn. They strut between the sheep pens like the coolest kids in middle school. They bleat loudly whenever meal time was due. 

On my last day at the farm, I sat on the hilltop behind the barn as Henrik released sheep out into the pasture, AKA, the rugged mountains of the fjord. The sheep and lambs will roam freely during the summer months, grazing wherever they please. The mountains will act as a natural barrier to keep them close-ish to home. In September/October, they are rounded up and brought back to the barn to begin this process all over again. 

Have you ever seen lambing? Would you join in on lambing in South Greenland? Share!

The post 5 things I learned while helping out with lambing in South Greenland appeared first on Young Adventuress.

It feels like I have been waiting all my life for solo female travel to be normal and not just on the fringe. I was really getting tired of people staring at me like I grew a second head whenever I spoke about my deep and abiding love to travel alone.

As more women take off on their amazing adventures, travel companies and businesses are coming to the party and making it more achievable and affordable to travel alone, safely as a woman.

So whether you’re considering your first solo trip, or need an excuse to plan your next one, here’s a few solo female travel facts to encourage you to lace up your travel boots and get packing.

10 of the safest destinations for solo female travelers

1. It turns out we outnumber men – bigtime!

Solo women travelers outnumber men almost two to one, and the numbers are growing. Take that, patriarchy!

A global survey recently found that more than one in two women has taken a solo vacation, with 75 percent of them planning solo trips in the next few years. Web searches for ‘solo female travel’ have also risen drastically in the past five years, and it seems that American women are leading the charge. You’re bloody welcome. 

Around nine million women depart the US to travel overseas each year, taking an average of three trips annually.

2. Millennials are busting out

Worldwide, one in five women has gone solo, with millennials outnumber other groups. What a surprise! 

Though that’s not always the case, for example, in the UK,  women over 50 are leading the solo travel boom, but other age groups are growing too. I’ve met plenty of these “grey nomads” on my travels and to be honest; they give me LIFE. 

I literally cannot wait to be like them when I’m older, a young-at-heart adventuress.

So why are women finally feeling free enough to travel without their partners or just on their own because they feel like it?

Among the motivations for traveling alone is the freedom to set your itinerary, as well as an increased sense of independence and a boost in confidence. As someone who hates compromise, I can back this up for sure. Meeting new people is also a large part of it – healthy social boundaries often disappear when you’re traveling solo. 

Another surprise is that a large number of solo travelers aren’t single. OMG shocking – you can travel without your other half. Alert the press!

3. Women rule on activity tours

Many activity-based tour operators are reporting that the majority of women on their trips are going solo these days. A fantastic way to travel solo is to join in on some guided experience, activity, or tour. It’s a great way to meet people on the road. 

More than half of small-group specialist Intrepid’s customers (around 75,000 annually) are solo travelers, and it has introduced several women-only women-only trips to destinations such as India, Morocco, and Peru. Travel and tour companies are keen to woo solo travelers, with some operators offering same-sex room share options. 

Often these days single supplements aren’t applied anymore, and you can even get a better rate on your own.

4. Women are heading off the beaten path

Some of these solo female travel facts are almost hard to swallow. Would you believe that Cuba topped the list for American solo female travelers, followed by Macedonia, Guatemala, and the UAE as places where women are keen to explore solo?

India is one of the fastest-growing destinations for solo female travelers. Sri Lanka, Peru, Italy, Greece, and Spain are also popular choices. People still ask me all the time about my solo trip to Turkey six years ago. 

With its cosmopolitan atmosphere, beautiful architecture and low crime rate, Israel is fast-growing in popularity. The numbers of solo female travelers to the Philippines have surged by 43%, shocking.

The more women go to places considered a bit adventurous, the more they pave the wave for future girls.

5. Safety influences our destination choice

Nearly 65% of solo female travelers check out how safe a destination is before they go. To get a feel for a country’s safety levels, we’re most likely to reach out for advice from others who have traveled there. We also read reviews, consult guide books, looking at local crime statistics, or visiting message boards or travel communities for information.

I don’t know about you guys, but I do this!

Iceland, Norway, Uruguay, and my adopted home of New Zealand are among the ten safest destinations for solo female travelers. And it’s an ever-changing picture. Often referred to as the happiest country in the world, Bhutan is also becoming safer, rising 43 places in the Global Peace Index rankings in the past 12 years.  

What do you think of these solo female travel facts? Do you have any crazy facts about solo travel? Any wild stories to spill? Share!

The post 5 crazy solo female travel facts that will blow your mind appeared first on Young Adventuress.

An extravagant playground built out of the sands of a desert, in perhaps one of the most hostile environments on earth, Dubai was imagined into reality and seemingly overnight has become one of the most vibrant cities on earth.

Somewhat lovingly nicknamed “the sandpit,” Dubai is a place where innovation and tradition smash together and create something new. It’s a place that will shatter your preconceptions about the Middle East to pieces. I love it!

25 photos that will inspire you to visit Dubai

Image by Lauren Bath

For example, the first time I visited Dubai on a solo female travel trip was around 2013, and as I was crossing the street heading to a mall, a flashy Mercedes G-Class stopped in front of me with a cheetah in the front seat. 

Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

Welcome to Dubai and the United Arab Emirates, a land of juxtapositions, where tradition meets the future in wild and weird ways that are always changing. Every time I come to Dubai, something new seems to have popped up.

Bright and bold, what can you expect from a place with man-made islands and the flashiest hotels on earth, where you can watch women in burkas climb out from the driver’s seat of a Maserati and head out to the desert on the back of a camel.

But what’s it like for the modern western woman traveling solo? Like yours truly?

Can women even drive in Dubai? Do you need to cover up? Do you have to wear a burka? Where IS Dubai? Do you have to be married?

These are only some of the many questions that people ask me when I explain how much time I spend in this buzzy heart of the modern Middle East. The lack of knowledge can be somewhat overwhelming, but I’ve learned a lot from my time in Dubai, a place I have come to love, in a weird way.

I’ve gleaned quite a bit of knowledge from my experience with solo female travel to Dubai over the years to share with you below. Enjoy!

1. It’s awesome for solo female travelers

First things first, I love to travel to Dubai as a solo female. Dubai is much more liberal than the rest of the UAE.

A committed, lifelong solo female traveler, Dubai is a city where I’ve always felt very safe traveling on my own. In fact, it’s one of the best places to begin visiting as a solo female traveler, in my opinion. Packed with tourists and foreigners, it’s an excellent introduction to the Middle East. 

The Solo Female Traveler’s Manifesto

Much more liberal and modern than its neighbors, Dubai is a place where I feel safe traveling solo. In Dubai, I tend to only talk to women first for help or questions, depending on where I am and what situation I’m in.

Dubai is also an exciting place because I see it having two sectors – the public space and the private space. In open areas (like malls or public beaches) you behave by the Sharia-inspired rules of Dubai. Be modest, act with dignity, no being drunk.

But in private spaces, like hotels and homes, things are super different. In hotels, you can drink and feel a lot freer, dress how you like, and follow a more lax set of rules.

It’s important to remember that. The rules here are very flexible and mobile and are changing. But when in doubt, err on the side of caution.

10 of the safest destinations for solo female travelers

2. Dubai is perfect for layovers and stopovers

Being based in New Zealand at the very bottom of the South Pacific, when I want to travel overseas, I usually have to fly through Dubai. Because of this, Emirates has become my go-to airline through the Middle East. 

Wanting to break up the back-to-back long haul flights (17 hours to Dubai from New Zealand + 8 hours to Europe or Africa or Asia from Dubai) I generally stop in this glamorous city for a night or two. I use it as an opportunity to relax and pamper myself in a town, unlike any other in the world.

Honestly, it’s the perfect place to relax and recoup when you’re traveling. You can usually find me hiding away in a luxury suite at a 5-star hotel or the spa, occasionally venturing out to take in a bit of the sites, like the top of the tallest building in the world, the Burj Khalifa.

3. Crime in Dubai is super low

Dubai has a very low crime rate, and I’ve personally experienced no fear or had problems on my trips to Dubai. I’ve never been harassed or even felt uncomfortable.

Dubai is the most liberal and “western” place I’ve been in the Middle East, as it’s a massive hub for foreigners, but it’s still a place steeped in tradition, and it’s important to respect that. 

I imagine the main reason that Dubai is so safe is that they rule with an iron fist, and crime here is not usually a problem for visitors. You are always on CCTV (shivers), keep that in mind.

Things like drug trafficking can carry death penalties, so for god’s sake, be on your best behavior here.

4. Dubai is a cultural melting pot

Dubai is a very trendy and fascinating city for many reasons; one of the big ones being how international it is. Only about 10% of the population is local Emirati; the rest are foreigners here to play and work. And the locals are very well off, financially speaking.

You will see plenty of women covered from head to toe in burkas, but they’re usually visitors from more conservative places like Saudi Arabia.

Many big companies are based here with international offices and staff, and you’re much more likely to meet travelers and expats than locals.

But when you do get to meet locals, it’s a pretty unique experience too. If you’re a visitor, check out the Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding for tours and activities to learn about the local people and culture respectfully.

Image by Lauren Bath

5. It’s mandatory to have insurance

I would hanker a guess that most people don’t know that it’s compulsory to have insurance to travel to Dubai.

I repeat, travel insurance is compulsory in Dubai.

But with many years of travel experience comes knowledge and foresight, and now I don’t take any chances. I can’t even imagine what a hospital stint would cost in the UAE.

I buy an annual policy – and after shopping around, Southern Cross Travel Insurance (SCTI) is now my go-to provider for all things insurance-related on all my travels around the world.

Read more about my experience traveling with SCTI in Bali and Spain. 

6. You don’t need to be married

No, you don’t need to be married to go to Dubai. Thank god, because that’s never been on my radar and I haven’t managed to trick a guy yet haha! Yes, solo female travel to Dubai is excellent.

However, while Dubai is undoubtedly the most “relaxed” spot I’ve been to in the Middle East about solo females, that doesn’t mean it’s on par with where we grow up in terms of freedoms and liberties, i.e. sleeping around, wearing what you want, and being your most wild and free feminine self.

Dubai still has laws that are not favorable to women, and while the enforcement of them is vague at best, it always pays to follow the rules outside your comfort zone.

Familiarize yourself with the different rules in Dubai.

The one that always has freaked me out has been the stories about female victims of sexual assault who have been detained after reporting an incident to police or seeking medical assistance.

But I also keep in mind in my own experience, this is super rare, and overall I’ve found Dubai a much safer and easier place to travel to than many other countries I’ve visited.

7. Yes, you can drive. But watch out!

Of course, women can drive in Dubai. If you stay in a flash hotel like I usually do, women will often climb out of the driver’s seat of a Ferrari on the regular.

Saudi Arabia is the only place I know of that forbids female drivers. However, they changed that law recently from what I understand.

One thing to keep in mind is that Dubai has a much higher rate of traffic accidents than in western places like Europe, likely due to the speeding. With so many supercars around, it’s not surprising, and I’ve found riding along in cars to be fine here. It’s not a comfortable place to get around without a car, which means you often shell out for Ubers, taxis, or shuttles.

Women who get taxis and Ubers should sit in the backseat. There are even women-only taxis and carriages on the subway.

8. You gotta play by their rules

The most significant risk when traveling in Dubai is not knowing or following the Sharia-inspired laws—this has landed a few dumb travelers in prison, with no way to get home.

Be on your best behavior and dress more modestly. The best piece of advice I got from local Emirati was to always behave with a G-rating in public. 

For example, drinking alcohol is illegal in the UAE, but it’s allowed in hotels. There are strict laws in the UAE on personal conduct, particularly around sex and relationships that are very different from New Zealand.

It’s your job to familiarize yourself with Dubai’s rigid rules (like your destination’s travel pages), which forbid drinking wine, crude language, aggressive gestures, taking someone’s picture without asking, taking photos of government buildings, possessing certain prescription medications, kissing in public, homosexuality, and a long list of other behavioral restrictions.

To be honest, I don’t generally wear skimpy clothes in Dubai because for me it’s not comfortable. In Dubai, wearing sleeveless tops, showing your stomach or back, or wearing short skirts and shorts won’t get people on your side. I’m not here to have a feminist argument or try to change an entire culture.

You will definitely see western women wearing skimpy clothes (especially considering how hot Dubai is), don’t assume that just because they’re doing it, it’s acceptable. I’ve found that Emirati people find it rude, but they’re too polite to say anything.

All I can say is when I’m in Dubai, I play by their rules and put on my best behavior and dress modestly, but not as modest as when I’m in other Muslim countries that are much more conservative. I find it’s best not to parade my different sets of values here.

Also, be aware of Ramadan dates and potentially avoid staying in Dubai then. During Ramadan, the rules are much stricter and much more strictly enforced. Do your research.

What do you think? Would you travel to Dubai as a solo female traveler? Thoughts? Anything to add? Share!

Many thanks to SCTI for sponsoring this post – like always I’m keeping it real  – all opinions are my own like you can expect less from me!

The post Everything you need to know about solo female travel in Dubai appeared first on Young Adventuress.

You’ve probably noticed on your social media the increase of solo travelers (especially women) with inspiring photos and philosophical captions about how wonderful it is to be on your own. As avid solo travelers at the YA HQ, we certainly get it!

With the help of the internet and the plethora of resources available, it’s becoming easier and easier to make the jump to solo travel.

But man, where to start? Not all destinations are created equal. How do you take the first step? New Zealand solo travel is where it’s at!

Traveling alone gives you the freedom to do exactly what you want without having to comprise for anyone else and as much as I love traveling with close friends or my partner, I always secretly crave a solo adventure where I’m the boss and the world is my oyster.

Whether you’re single or in a long term relationship, solo travel can be a life-changing experience and in 2019, it’s easier than ever.

The hardest part, of course, is picking where exactly you’ll go for your solo holiday.

If you haven’t already considered New Zealand, you’re tripping. Here’s why New Zealand should top your list as a dream destination for solo travelers, and it’s the perfect place for solo travelers. Enjoy!

1. Getting around is so damn easy

New Zealand is a small country that is sparsely populated outside of the biggest city, Auckland.

You won’t find massive freeways and confusing mousetraps or contradicting road signs. We basically just have Highway 1, and depending which way the ocean is, you pretty much always know where you are.

New Zealand has a string of easy-to-navigate highways and clear signs so you really don’t even need to have Google Maps open, and hiring a GPS with your car is a total waste of money.

If you do happen to get lost, simply pop into the nearest petrol station or restaurant and the locals will be happy to point you in the right direction.

2. The native language is English

English is one of two national languages, the other being Māori, meaning that as long as you speak the international travel language marginally well, you’ll be absolutely fine getting around New Zealand.

Can’t make any promises about good ol’ kiwi slang though. You’re on your own there.

3. You probably won’t be alone

There’s a common misconception that traveling alone means you’re destined to be lonely but most solo travelers will tell you that is far from true.

No one wants to approach a big group of travelers but when you’re on your own, you suddenly become interesting, a puzzle that needs to be figured out. People are curious about who you are and what you’re doing and if you don’t have a massive posse, they will be much less intimidated to approach you.

You’ll soon find yourself being included into groups or invited to events solely because you’re on your own. If meeting other people is the goal of your trip, you should definitely go it alone. Traveling with even one other person makes you far more susceptible to staying in your comfort zone and not branch out.

New Zealand solo travel is quite common so as long as you don’t seclude yourself in a quiet hotel room or to only remote camping spots, you’ll likely meet other like-minded individuals if you want to share a beer or want some company on a hike.

4. Expats aplenty

New Zealand’s tourism has been booming over the past decade and with it comes infinite numbers of expats from all over the world, especially with the ease of getting a working holiday visa, many foreigners come to live in New Zealand for a season or a year. New Zealand solo travel is common here.

All mid-size towns have hostels packed with travelers so whether you want a companion for part of the trip or just someone to go to the pub with, you’ll find no shortage of people or tourists to meet.

Expats and travelers flock to New Zealand from all over the world so it’s a great way to make international friends who might just inspire you to add a few more countries to your never-ending list.

5. The locals are real friendly

Kiwis have a reputation for being a little hardened and rough around the edges.

They say what they mean and have no issue telling you what’s what, so it’s no surprise that many visitors’ first impressions of the locals are a bit skewed.

But behind those rough exteriors, Kiwis have hearts of gold.

When it comes to lending a hand, they will always do their best to help out within their capabilities. From giving directions to picking up hitchhikers, Kiwis are generally happy to help out visitors.

6. It’s super safe

I moved to New Zealand from Chicago, a town that has become synonymous with mobsters and gun violence. Street smarts were a must to survive in Chicago, and sirens and ambulances were the soundtrack to the city.

I’ll never forget the first time I realized just how safe New Zealand actually was.

I was a few weeks into my first year in New Zealand, driving south from Auckland. I was listening to the radio and the broadcaster was giving updates on the weather and recent news. The biggest news story of the day was about a young girl who was thought to have been kidnapped but turns out she actually wasn’t. That was it. That was the story: a crime almost happened, but turns out, it didn’t.

It’s not to say that crime is completely absent in New Zealand.

There have been numerous reporting of thefts, especially targeted at tourists but when compared to other countries, New Zealand is stupidly safe to travel in. Feel free to walk around at night and travel about at your leisure without having to worry about sketchy characters approaching you. And violent crime is minimal compared to many other countries.

For the most part, people are happy to leave you alone. New Zealand solo travel is easy.

There have been some tourist thefts especially on the far north of the North Island so if you’re an obvious tourist in a camper van, best keep your valuables on you and not visible in the car while you’re out hiking.

7. No threatening animals that will eat you. 

New Zealand’s most threatening animal is a giant carnivorous snail. I’m joking. There is a giant carnivorous snail on the South Island but don’t worry it’s not threatening.

No snakes, no giant spiders lurking in dark corners, no bloodthirsty mammals in the woods. You can camp without having to think about bears and walk through tall grass without thinking twice about slithering reptiles. You can hike alone without worry of being eaten (just be smart about it)

The only thing you have to worry about is the pesky sandflies who are definitely out for blood but are otherwise completely harmless. You won’t contract any diseases from their bite and after a few itchy days, you’ll completely forget about them.

8. It’s the perfect for peace and quiet

If you want to put yourself out there and meet other travelers, you can totally do that, however, if you’re looking for a quiet escape where you see very few humans, you can definitely do that too.

As I mentioned, New Zealand’s population is not exactly what I would describe as “robust” so as long as you can get outside of the cities, you can get as far away from humans as you want.

Reconnect with nature. Breath in the fresh air. Become a woman of the backcountry. Whatever. Go nuts.

Just be sure to check in with your loved ones about your plans because there is no cell service in the wilderness here, and accidents in the bush do happen, especially when you’re unprepared.

9. We’re are way behind the times

This may sound like a negative, and for many travelers, it will be.

New Zealand is perpetually 20 years behind in their infrastructure and technology when compared to the USA or Europe. It’s common to find entire towns without cell reception and wifi and that’s just part of the beauty.

The internet you do find is likely to be slow so if you’re looking for a place where you can stream Netflix all night, this isn’t for you.

Instead, try to embrace the remoteness.

Imagine how it used to be when travelers weren’t perpetually connected to their homes. Live in the moment and engage with the people who actually live there instead of worrying about updating your social media for those at home. There are few developed countries in the world that can offer this so embrace it with open arms.

Trust me, when you’re back home at your desk job, you will wish you had taken the time to be more present. New Zealand solo travel is for everyone.

What do you reckon? Are you keen to explore NZ as a solo traveler? Anything else to add? Spill!

The post 9 reasons why New Zealand is the best place for solo travelers appeared first on Young Adventuress.

Well over a decade later I can safely say I’m still doing things that make my mum shake her head BUT also very proud (I think). Sorry I’m not sorry!

And while my travel has changed, shaped, grown and evolved in many ways, I’m still (and always will be) a diehard solo female traveler, and I will always stand up for and try to inspire other women to do the same, always open to sharing safe destinations solo female travel.

Solo female travel is life-changing, it can really make you as a person, teach you lessons that would have been difficult to find otherwise, and above all, inspire you to confidence and to believe in yourself, as well as to find your inner Beyonce.

I stand by these words.

The Solo Female Traveler’s Manifesto

According to Google, interest in solo female travel has risen by 131%, hitting an peak of 100 million searches in 2018.

Can I get a fuck yes?

Ladies, let’s keep leading the charge shall we? I’m a firm believer in leading by example, the stronger we are and the more supportive community we build around solo female travel, is better for everyone. And shame on you, New York Times, for your vile fearmongering. Women who travel alone AREN’T THE PROBLEM. MEN WHO ATTACK WOMEN ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM.

Calm down, Liz. Where was I going with this?

So anyways, nestled amongst the heart emoji replies, OMG how can I have your life messages, and general vulgarity that lands in my DM’s and inbox, I often find my favorite question of all. Where should I go as a solo female traveler. Now there I am the expert.

Here are my choices for 10 safe destinations solo female travel. Enjoy!

1. Come hang down with me in New Zealand

My adopted home of New Zealand is an incredible place for women to travel solo and also happens to rank No.2 on the Global Peace Index (GPI). Built for year-round adventure, you can hike through pristine landscapes, ski or snowboard, go whale-watching, or slow things down with a winery tour, and feel safe while you’re doing any of the above.

Crime is minimal here, and it often makes the news if someone steals free range eggs from an honesty box on the side of the road, well, at least it makes the news here in little Wanaka where I live; I suppose South Auckland is a different story.

Violent crimes here are negligent compared to where I grew up outside Washington D.C., where I have never felt to walk outside to my car at night, and as a general rule I’ve found most kiwis to be honest and helpful here, and it’s definitely feels the safest of all the countries I’ve explored, especially for solo female travelers.

If you really need a kick in the butt, come see me at my next Travel Bootcamp in Queenstown in October 2019.

2. Go frolic in Iceland with the elves

Bubbling thermal springs, jaw-dropping rugged scenery and the chance to see the Northern Lights are just a few of the attractions in Iceland, listed the safest country in the world on the 2018 GPI. Don’t be deceived by their general belief in the fairy folk, Icelanders are actually some of the kindest, die-hard drinkers I’ve ever met. 

It was one of the first countries I visited when I quit my day job to travel and took a road trip through some of the most remote parts of Iceland under the midnight summer sun.

In many ways Iceland feels a lot like New Zealand in terms of its wild landscapes, few humans, lots of sheep and small crime rates. There’s something to be said about places with small populations and a be kind to stranger attitude still.

3. Dance until dawn with new friends in Uruguay

If you have a yen to travel to South America, World Packers says Uruguay is one of the safest countries in the region for female travelers. Expect a warm welcome in this small country, tucked in between Brazil and Argentina, where you can relax on the beaches of Punta del Este, go hiking in the Parque Nacional Santa Teresa, or see a tango show in Montevideo.

Boasting one of the lowest crime rates in the Americas, Uruguay is a good safe start for solo female travelers looking to hit up South America.

4. Prepare to be blown away by the wild beauty of Norway

Home to World Heritage-listed fjords and unspoiled national parks, Norway is a magnet for those in search of dramatic natural landscapes. Hi! 

Scandinavia often reigns supreme in many ways from healthcare and a high standard of living, to universal happiness and low crime rates, a perfect combo for women like us.

5. Fall in love with the magic of Switzerland

Spectacular lakes and mountains and picture-postcard villages, as well as its No.12 position on the GPI, make Switzerland an attractive proposition.

Here, you can hike, ski in the Alps, go boating on the many lakes, grab a bike and go exploring, or take advantage of the amazingly efficient trains, all in the knowledge that solo female travelers find this an easy and safe country to navigate, not to mention exceptionally efficient and very very tidy. 

Just don’t go out to a fancy restaurant where you’ll likely be robbed when you go to pay the bill. Switzerland is many things, but cheap isn’t one of them.

6. Go on the hunt for the perfect street food in Hong Kong

Big cities can be some of the safest places to travel for solo females and Hong Kong is no exception, but it’s always good to use commonsense.

Hong Kong is one of my favorite big cities in Asia and I’ve felt safe here both during the day and after dark, on the hunt for dumplings and bao.

Enjoy the amazing shopping and lively culture, but don’t carry too many valuables, advises Lonely Planet. If you’re navigating the city at night, Lonely Planet says the MTR is safe, or if you’re walking, stick to well-lit streets.

7. Get your backpacker on in Portugal

With its spectacular coastline, medieval castles, delicious cuisine and a capital city, Lisbon, that’s hipster central, Portugal also rates highly for safety, occupying fourth place on the GPI.

Former foreign correspondent and diplomat Leyla Giray Alyanak from Women on the Road says Portugal is the safest country she’s travelled in, but advises taking the normal precautions of keeping an eye on your valuables and not putting yourself in risky situations.

8. Canada

One of the friendliest countries in the world, Canada is also one of the safest, coming in at No.6 on the GPI. Being mainly English-speaking gives it an instant advantage for travelers, plus there are safe and efficient transport systems in the cities as well as between destinations.

Major attractions include the spectacular national parks, world-class skiing and vibrant, multicultural cities.

As an American, I’ve come to love my neighbor to the great white north, and I have spent a few winters exploring around Alberta and BC, two magical regions worth visiting. Definitely hope to go back again soon!

9. Japan

Snow sports, onsen, hiking trails and incredible food… what’s not to love about Japan. Plus, CNTraveler names it No.1 in its top 15 spots for solo women travelers. Getting around is fast and efficient with the excellent public transport system, and the Japanese are notoriously helpful to travelers.

Lonely Planet advises that some peak-hour trains have women-only cars to protect female passengers from chikan (men who grope women on packed trains). And, although Japan is relatively safe, they advise the usual precautions and preparedness. 

10. Australia

The land down under also makes CNTraveler’s top 15 travel destinations for women, and also comes in at No.13 on the GPI.

With year-round sunshine, you can hit the beaches in the southern states in the warmer months, and follow the sun by heading north when the mercury drops in March/April. Australia’s brilliantly set up for single travelers, with backpacker hostels in most popular spots and buses or budget airlines to get you around this vast country.

What did I miss? Have a favorite? Where do you think is the best country for solo female travelers? Spill!

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And once my interest in Antarctica deepened, so did my knowledge as I began to research more and more, and there was one place above all, that I knew I had to go to: South Georgia.

South Georgia, the remote subantarctic island a couple thousand kilometers east off the coast of Argentina, that you probably have never heard of. It is one of those places you’d probably only ever come across in National Geographic magazines or David Attenborough documentaries at the dentist’s office.

Unless you’re a super conservation geek like me and saw the “viral news” earlier this year announcing South Georgia was finally eradicated of rats and is now pest free! (read more here on the Guardian). A fragile wild environment, it’s home to some of the most incredible landscapes and wildlife on earth, not to mention South Georgia a place few make the long journey to, leaving it pristine and wild.

There are no regularly flights, or any flights really. In fact, there population is roughly 30 souls who aren’t permanent and roughly a bajillion penguins.

Unless you are a scientist or very wealthy modern-day adventurer, your chances of getting to South Georgia are slim to none unless by expedition cruise. Quark is the leader in polar expeditions, and to get to a place like South Georgia, your only option is by ship, which is what I did for almost a month earlier this year.

I’ll preface this by saying I hate cruises. Cruises are not my thing. Not remotely. But since the only way I was getting my little feet on South Georgia was by ship, I had to change my attitude.

Lucky for me, and my fellow non-cruise squad, Quark’s trips are very much expedition style trips, and not cruises. There aren’t any massage rooms (sad), there is no pool with a waterslide on deck, no neon cable lighting and definitely no scheduled group karaoke nights, though there might be some impromptu ones held in the lounge by us younger folks after 3 days at sea at 3am but that’s a story for another day.

There are no tropical beach holiday vibes on board, and the incredible ships feel very much like an adventure/expedition ship, it reminded me of Russian icebreakers I’ve been on or scientific research vessels, but more comfortable.

So while you’re on a ship, it truly feels like an expedition and not a cruise, with the landings and experiences dictated by mother nature, bolstered by a real sense of adventure. For example was so windy our first morning in South Georgia, when I rose at 4am out of sheer excitement and went to open the door on deck, well, I couldn’t actually open it because it was THAT windy. Excursion postponed til door-closing wind abates, off to somewhere else!

This kind of trip is not that’s not really a cruise, instead it’s an expedition by ship to some of the most remote places on earth. You gotta be flexible, eager and go with the flow.

For many travelers, South Georgia is the ultimate bucket list trip with their partners and significant others. But what about the rest of us single people? Friendless people? People who can’t find a travel buddy with the same budget? Or people who just like traveling alone, like me?

A lifelong solo traveler, I have never shied away from an experience because I didn’t know anyone else or had to travel alone. In fact, I usually find the opposite. I knew going into this that with several weeks on board a ship, I was going to get to know people whether I wanted to or not, which made it much easier.

With butterflies in my stomach boarding the ship in Ushuaia, I walked into my room for the first time. I was in a three bed girls bunk, the entry level room, with a porthole. Cozy.

The cheap rooms are on the bottom of the ship, which trust me, is a good thing. The higher up you go, the nicer the rooms, but you have a lot more motion as the ship moves through some of the roughest seas on earth. The more you pay, the more you sway.

Anyway, where was I? It’s basically like your first day of school but less dreadful and with no homework. And with baby furry penguins.

You arrive on board and meet as strangers, everyone is in the same boat—literally—and all unified by a profound excitement for the adventure ahead. You pick up your new school uniform, the iconic Quark yellow parka, and begin to familiarize yourself with the ship.

Here’s the library, there’s the dining room, oh and most importantly, the bar is just over there. The perfect place to meet new friends. Hello open bar tab and $5 cocktails! What up!

Pro tip: do not drink more than 2 cocktails at night on open sea days.

Photo by Jarrad Seng

The ship is your home, and you quickly will familiarize yourself with your new surroundings. From movies in the evenings to intriguing lectures during the day from the knowledgeable expedition team from everything you could want to know and more about their work and adventures in Antarctica, you won’t be bored.

We often were surprised with bbq’s outside and fun activities where we could all hang out and get to know each other, really making it feel like you weren’t alone.

Because you’re in a confined space and all connected over a mutual love of penguins, nature, adventure and travel, it’s very easy to meet new people on board as a solo traveler.

Many of us share rooms with strangers, and I’m still great friends with my bunkmate, who I’d stay up late every night with reminiscing over the day to dance marathons. In the beginning I would recap the best bits of Shackleton’s Endurance to her from the bottom bunk as I plowed my way through it “can you believe they ate baby emperor penguins?!” and we would sometimes get dressed up and put on lipstick and then go take ourselves on a date to the bar and dinner.

It was awesome!

Additionally, Quark offers lots of activities, events and fun surprises to guests where you can meet new people. And with free seating in the dining room, I often made a point to sit alone at a table, just to see who would join me and chat.

Photo by Jarrad Seng

Once you make your first landings on the Falklands and South Georgia, you’ll notice you’re bonding with passengers over truly unique moments. Once your groups get to land, everyone disperses around so often you’ll find yourself observing something remarkable next to a stranger. Before South Georgia most ships will also call into the Falkland Islands, another incredible conglomerate of islands, a British Overseas Territory home to a few thousand hardy souls and lots of birds.

From sitting down on the rocks as a horde of penguins waddle pass and turning to each other to say, “wow, did you see that?” to raising a toast to the legendary Shackleton over his grave, the remarkable moments you’ll witness together will make memories that will last forever.

After all, there is nothing quite so powerful as a shared moment in an extraordinary place.

Solo travel is an incredibly rewarding way to travel and experience the world, offering you all new insights and views into a particular destination; a Quark Expeditions trip to South Georgia and the Falklands is the perfect place for solo travelers, because you can have the best of both worlds.

You have a whole new group of like minded friends on board with you, but you also have the freedom to wander and explore at your own pace too.

From the great people you’ll meet to hanging out with the expedition team to discovering things about yourself you didn’t know about before, solo travel on South Georgia is a guaranteed phenomenal experience for the intrepid traveler.

Photo by Jarrad Seng

There are no shortage of new friends on board an adventure to the subantarctic. I have found over the years when you travel solo you often will meet more people; there is something more open and easy about approaching others when you’re alone.

I’d often hang out with the expedition team (who were very patient haha), ask them questions and encourage them to share some of their incredible stories, many of whom have spent seasons and seasons in some of the most wild polar places on earth.

There was a solid group of about a dozen of us solo travelers or young couple and we were always hanging out, commandeering the biggest table in the dining hall at breakfasts and running ridiculous games and pranks in the evenings and even making a bit of mischief.

Did I drunkenly steal a guide’s radio on the dance floor on the last night? Maybe. Was there a bit of midnight streaking around the deck of the ship one night that led the Russian Captain to waking up the expedition leader to send us back to bed? Perhaps. Did we leave each other all anonymous kind notes and cards in each other’s elaborately decorated vomit bags? Sure did.

All in good fun, guys.

The best part is that we are all still good friends, have a somewhat lively Facebook chat and are all meeting up in Uganda in June for our friend’s charity!

As a solo traveler on South Georgia and the Falklands, there’s also heaps of alone time too. I often found myself wandering to the edges of the designated landing sites all by myself. I really enjoyed the opportunity to sit down and observe nature. I do love my on company.

These islands are home to many amazing bird colonies; if you sit down quietly and just watch them, they will often do some spectacular things.

South Georgia and the Falklands are the kinds of places that unifies travelers; everyone shares the same joy and excitement and love of nature and adventure.

Because the nature of the expedition brings people together, especially if you are a solo traveler, there is still profound wonders and experiences here for you. From walking in the footsteps of the shared explorers to narrating your own unique moment on land over lunch back on the ship, solo travel in South Georgia and the Falklands is a great way to experience this incredible corner of the world.

Would you go on a solo adventure to the Antarctic? Have any tips to share? Spill

Many thanks to Quark Expeditions for helping get me to South Georgia and the Falklands. Like always, I’m keeping it real, all opinions are my own, like you could expect less from me!

The post Solo travel to South Georgia and the Falklands Islands: the low down appeared first on Young Adventuress.