You’ll probably lie awake the night before, staring at the ceiling, doing that thing where you mentally repack your bag for the fourth time and wonder if you haven’t forgotten anything.
You haven’t. But I’ll tell you what I wish someone had told me before my first solo trip, because most of the advice out there is either weirdly cheerful or full of fear, and the truth sits somewhere in the middle.
The Fear Isn’t About What You Think
People assume the fear is about getting lost, or losing a passport, or some dramatic worst-case thing. It almost never is.
The real fear is being alone with yourself for ten days with nothing to hide behind. No partner to fill the silence. No mate to laugh at the bad meal with. Just you, your own thoughts, and a hotel room that suddenly feels very quiet at 9pm.
I’m telling you this upfront because once you know that’s the actual thing you’re scared of, the trip gets easier. You stop bracing for disaster and start dealing with the bit that’s actually challenging, which is much smaller and passes faster than you’d expect.
Where to Go for Your First Time
Don’t pick somewhere wildly ambitious. I know the photos of Vietnam look brilliant. Save it for your third trip.
For a first solo trip, you want somewhere with decent public transport, English signage, and a culture that isn’t going to throw you sideways on day one. Portugal’s a good shout. So is Japan, weirdly, because everything works and people are quietly kind without making a fuss. Spain, Ireland, the Netherlands, most of Scandinavia. All easy.
If you want to ease in even more gently, do a long weekend somewhere in the UK first. Edinburgh on your own for three nights teaches you most of what you need to know, and you can speak the language at the chip shop.
According to ABTA’s recent travel trends report, solo holidays have been climbing steadily, with somewhere around 15% of UK travellers now booking trips alone. So if you feel like you’re doing something odd, you’re really not. There’s a quiet army of us out there.
Book Some Things, Leave Others Loose
This is where first-timers go wrong in both directions. Some plan every meal. Others book a flight and wing it. Both are bad.
Here’s what’s worth booking before you go:
- Your first two or three nights of accommodation
- An airport transfer for arrival, especially if you’re landing tired or late
- Travel insurance, before anything else really
- Any big-ticket attraction that sells out, like the Alhambra or a sumo match in Tokyo
Leave the rest open. The best days on a solo trip are almost always the ones you didn’t plan. You’ll meet someone at breakfast who mentions a town an hour up the coast, and you’ll go, and it’ll be the day you remember.
Quick aside, actually, before I forget: check the Foreign Office travel advice page before you book, not after. It’s dull but it’ll save you a headache if there’s anything going on you didn’t know about.
Where to Sleep When You’re On Your Own
Hostels with private rooms are the secret weapon for first-time solo travellers. You get the social bit, the communal kitchen, the walking tours, the people to eat dinner with if you fancy it. But you also get a door that locks and a bed that’s yours.
Big dorms are fine if you’re 22 and don’t mind someone’s alarm going off at 5am. After about 30, the maths stops working.
Small guesthouses are lovely too. The kind where the owner gives you a hand-drawn map on day one and asks how your day was when you come back. Those places do more for the lonely-evening problem than any hostel bar.
Read the reviews written by other solo travellers specifically. They mention things couples don’t, like whether the walk back from town at night felt alright, or whether the breakfast room makes you feel weird about eating alone.
Eating on Your Own Without Wanting to Die
This is the thing everyone panics about, and honestly, it’s fine after about day two.
The first dinner is the worst. I’ll be straight with you. You’ll feel like everyone’s looking. They’re not. They genuinely aren’t. People are wrapped up in their own conversations and their own phones, and the waiter has seen a thousand solo diners and doesn’t care.
A few things that make it easier:
- Sit at the bar if there is one. Bartenders chat, and you don’t feel as exposed as you do at a table for one.
- Bring a book. Not your phone, a proper book. Phones make you look bored. Books make you look interesting.
- Eat your big meal at lunch for the first few days. It’s softer, brighter, less of a thing.
- Find the markets. Standing up eating a pastry next to a stranger is the easiest meal in the world.
By day four you’ll be enjoying it. Eating slowly, watching the street, no one talking at you about their work week. It becomes a small luxury you didn’t know you wanted.
Safety Without Going Mad About It
Being safe on a solo trip is mostly about being slightly boring. You don’t need a money belt. You don’t need to walk around clutching your bag like it contains state secrets.
What actually helps:
- Send your itinerary to one person back home and update them every couple of days
- Use a cross-body bag in cities, not a backpack you can’t see
- Photo of your passport on your phone, plus one printed copy in your suitcase
- Trust your gut. If a street feels off, turn around. You don’t owe anyone politeness.
- Don’t get properly drunk on your own in unfamiliar places. Sorry. It’s just true.
For women travelling solo, the honest answer about safety is that most places are fine if you use the same instincts you’d use walking through any UK city after dark. Some destinations need a bit more awareness than others, and the best information comes from current blogs by women who’ve actually been there in the last year, not from official pages written by people in offices.
The Day Three Slump Is Real
Nobody warns you about this one. Around day three or four, you might hit a weird flat patch. The novelty’s faded slightly. You’ve done the headline sights. And you’re sat on a bench with a coffee thinking, is this it?
Yes, briefly. Then it passes.
What helps is booking one small group thing for that day or the next; a food tour, a cooking class, a day trip somewhere. Instant people, instant rhythm shift. You’ll come out the other side and the rest of the trip feels different.
The slump is actually a good sign. It means your brain has stopped sprinting and started actually being there. That’s the whole point of going.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is solo travel more expensive than going with someone? Slightly, yes. You’re covering the full cost of a room rather than splitting it. Budget around 10 to 20 percent more than you would if you were sharing. Food and activities tend to even out.
How do I meet people without it being awkward? Stay somewhere social, do at least one group activity, sit at communal tables when you can. Other solo travellers are easy to spot, they’re the ones eating alone with a book, and they’re almost always up for a chat.
What’s the most common mistake first-time solo travellers make? Cramming the itinerary. You’ll be exhausted by day three. Build in slow mornings and proper rest days. The trip gets better the moment you stop trying to see everything.
What if I get genuinely lonely? Call home, but don’t do it every night, it makes the distance feel bigger. Book a group tour for the next day. Keep a small journal. The lonely bit usually lasts an evening, not a holiday.
Should I bring a friend just in case? No. If you’re going solo, go solo. Bringing someone “just in case” defeats the entire point. If you’re really not ready, do a shorter trip closer to home first.
What do I do if something goes wrong? Something small probably will. A missed train, a dodgy meal, a lost charger. You’ll handle it, and then you’ll have a story. That’s genuinely most of what solo travel teaches you, that you can handle the small stuff on your own.
One Last Thing
Your first solo trip won’t be perfect. You’ll get something wrong, feel awkward at some point, probably cry at an airport or over a really good plate of pasta. That’s all part of it, and it’s not a sign you’ve failed.
What I can tell you is that you’ll come back slightly different. A bit quieter in a good way. More sure of your own decisions, because you’ve had to make every single one of them. And you’ll already be thinking about the next trip before you’ve unpacked the first.
