Travelling Alone

So this is my last full week of classes. Which means that it's my last Wednesday off that really counts. It's a funny thing to think about. At first, when I heard I had Wednesday's off, some of my friends groaned. What a rubbish day to have off, they thought, since it meant I couldn't take a long weekend. I sort of liked it, though. It's been like my own private weekend when I could reorganize and get things done, since on most of my actual weekends I've been quite busy. I also thought that I'd make a few trips on Wednesdays - little things, by myself. I liked the idea of hopping up to France from San Sebastian - Hendaye for example has a Wednesday market, and I liked the idea of going there just for the hell of it, grabbing a few photos. I didn't do that very often - or really at all. If I decide I needed those days to recharge and get a few things done, there's no shame in that. But I wonder if part of it was me hesitating to travel alone.

This is something I've been thinking about a lot. If I want to be a travel journalist, I'm going to have to get used to travelling alone. I'm going to have to learn not to depend on other people to have a good time, etc. I think I'm making progress, in a way. I've travelled alone several times - most notably in Asturias and when I went to Foz de Lumbier. In the first case, it was an impulsive thing on the way to meet up with Sara and Colleen in Galicia. In the second, I realized that I might be looking at the last day of wonderful weather this season, and I just couldn't waste the opportunity, even though none of my friends could be bothered.

Did I spend those trips scared, lonely, feeling threatened, regretting that I'd ever set out alone? Basically, no. I went to safe places and was rarely out of sight of other people, never after sundown. I took more time to take nice photographs and really appreciate the sights, without looking back and thinking, 'wow, that was such a nice spot, but we were talking about high school traditions then so I pretty much missed it.' I was bolder, not in the sense of being rash, but in the sense of trying random things - I was only accountable to myself if things went wrong. In Oviedo, I decided to go for these two churches way up on a hillside, and found out once I was there that they were World Heritage Sites - and the entire trip to Foz de Lumbier was a gamble - I couldn't find any confirmation online that my idea of walking from Liedena to Lumbier was feasible. In the end, though, it was quite easy.

I felt strong and independent. The people around me opened up a bit more, since I obviously wasn't busy talking to someone else, and in some of them I caught a bit of respect - they didn't know how I was, going at it alone, but it set me apart from the typical bus tourist. In Oviedo I went into a restaurant alone with my big camera over my shoulder, and the server went out of his way to accommodate me, telling me what their specialities were, what dishes were typical to the region, etc - maybe a total coincidence, but maybe not. When I got off the bus in Liedena, an older woman got off with me and asked me twice, "You want Liedena? You want Liedena, really?" When I told her I was going to walk to Lumbier, she smiled and gave me directions while we walked down the road together - she also pointed out the best vantage point to photograph her town. "Now you'll have a memory of Liedena," she told.

I've had great experiences every time I've set off alone. That's not to say I necessarily prefer it to travelling with friends - they're both nice, and both different. There are a lot of things I would never do alone, for example, like party in Barcelona or cross the Pyrenees on the Camino de Santiago. I have to be more careful when selecting things I think I can manage on my own, because after all it does make me more vulnerable. Still, I think it's something I'm getting more and more comfortable with, little by little.