By Grace Kurfman
The night before I flew to Bergen, Norway I swallowed my fear in pop music and a cheap bottle of Fireball. It was my first solo trip and admittedly, I was more terrified than excited. The realization at how far away 6,895 miles truly was began to sink in and I questioned whether my decision to leave the states was brave or embarrassingly impulsive. Regardless, the next day I boarded my flight without a plan of what I was going to do once I got there, and even less of an idea of when I’d be returning home.
Before leaving, I had heard stories from women who backpacked alone and I always wondered how they spent their time abroad. During my first day in Norway, I was more curious than ever. After unpacking at my AirBnb, I wandered down the cobblestone road toward the Moldani River. I marveled at how calmly it snaked through the town’s center, though my first reaction was how I wished to have someone there to enjoy the view with.
There was a slow and quiet snow that began to fall and Mount Floyen toward above me, scattered with warm lights from the houses that climbed to the top. It was beautiful, and it felt like I was inside a snow globe, but there was something so quiet and sad about my first evening alone.
In an attempt to meet people, I decided to join a Facebook group—The Solo Female Travelers Network. After hesitantly making my first post, I got a DM from an Aussie around my age who happened to be in Bergen as well. She was visiting her boyfriend and starting her third solo trip. To me, she was an expert.
So I happily accepted her invitation to grab drinks at No Stress—a bar with old school Mario Kart video games. I sipped on the best lemon cake martini that I will ever have, while she and I swapped stories of our lives ‘back home.’ For the first time, I considered how gimmicky Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes are when she told me that’s why she loved America.
“You guys just have funny little things like that there.” She said with a smile.
I laughed and told her that I really wanted to see a kangaroo someday, and she rolled her eyes before telling me how horrifyingly big they are. One of the best parts about travel is seeing your life from another person’s perspective and learning how they live their own. For me, it opened up my world by teaching me that there’s more than one way to experience life. I know that I wouldn’t have met Erin or been as inclined to meet people from different backgrounds if I had been traveling with friends or family.
After she and I parted ways, I thought I would meet people as welcoming as her everywhere I went. This, however, wasn’t entirely the case. I spent most of my time abroad alone, and at first this was the biggest hurdle I faced. As someone who used to always rely on other people to plan activities, it was hard for me to figure out what I wanted.
Two days later, I caught a flight to Zurich, Switzerland. I figured it would be easier to spend time alone doing an activity, and I eagerly bought a train ticket up to Zermatt—as an avid skier, I was thrilled to spend the day skiing the Swiss Alps.
At a lodge near the Italian border, I drank a beer and ate spaghetti tossed with radishes, arugula, and parmesan. My mouth waters thinking about that dish, eating food has since become my favorite part about travel and I made a rule: gain all the weight you can abroad, you’ll lose it when you come back.
Around me groups of friends played drinking games and the comfort of their laughter reminded me of my friends back in Montana. So after skiing, I wandered up to an outdoor bar in hopes I’d meet friends to party with that night.
Instead, I spent an hour pestering the bartender who had just gotten back from a year long solo road trip across America, he claimed Montana was his favorite place. I think he could tell that I was desperate, which in hindsight was fairly obvious, but he began to explain that at first it was hard being alone, but then he “just got used to it.”
“Did you ever party?” I asked him. As soon as the words left my mouth, I could tell that he knew I was going to ask this. Being 22 , I thought that only good fun was found blacked out and dancing.
“No,” he smiled, “I found better ways to spend my time.”
I must have looked disappointed because he immediately added that I should go out that night.
“You’ll enjoy it,” he said, “nobody will think it’s weird that you’re alone.”
I left the bar buzzed off his wisdom and the spiked hot chocolate he served, planning what I would wear out, but I never got the courage to go out alone. In fact, I still haven’t gotten the courage to go clubbing alone. But I’ve learned that it’s okay to accept failure.
Throughout the next couple of weeks, I relied on the Facebook group for company, guidance, and tips on fun activities to do in different countries. The Solo Female Travelers made me feel less alone and reminded me that what I was doing was important and brave.
Though after two weeks, I was happily sipping an espresso, eating tapas for breakfast in Malaga Spain, and understood what the bartender in Zermatt really meant. With a new found sense of freedom and self confidence, I decided to stay in Europe for three months and began to journal about all that I wanted to do, and where I wanted to go.
There’s something a little magical about solo travel, because just as I had started enjoying my solitude, I met another Australian at a hostel in Dublin. Like me, he left his home in January hoping to find something ‘out there’ and didn’t know what he was looking for either.
“Maybe I’ll work at a bar,” he told me as we wandered through a park in the city. “Or intern at a marketing firm,” he added, less enthusiastically.
In Dublin, the two of us met a woman from Canada, and another from South Africa. The four of us spent the weekend exploring Ireland: laughing at a dimly lit comedy club, hiking Howth Cliff Loop, drinking Guinesses, and best of all swapping travel stories. When I left Dublin, I went to Portugal to landscape for two weeks, and after that did the same in Greece for six weeks through a program called Workaway.
The traveling community that I met abroad, as well as the one I found online, made my journey easier and more fulfilling. Because of them, I traveled to nine different countries: Norway, Switzerland, France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Greece, Ireland, and Turkey.
I went home with a new perspective on myself, my relationships, and an immense gratitude for the experiences I made around the world. You can always stay inside your life, and it’s always there for you to retreat to, but there’s an entire world to explore and a community of people who make doing so easier.
Grace Kurfman is a new writer and traveler, originally from Montana and currently located in New York City. She loves writing about the world and the unique perspectives of people she meets, her cat—Cat—reading about neuroscience, and journaling. You can connect with her on Instagram and Linkedin.
