I’ve sojourned before by myself, for as many as a couple weeks. Ask Manali, she knows it. The snow and the sky greeted me with open arms. Felt uncanny though. I knew I would be back home in a jiffy, I was in humble surroundings, easily approachable, and most importantly I had access to nice showers and a comfortable bed at all times. The last on was a lie!
Danced at random shacks, drank whisky off a mug and never once thought of saving a penny. Got my legs cramped during weird hikes with hippies and relished the freedom to act like one. Every know-how was an extravaganza, the good was amazing, and the bad definitely became horrible but still manageable. The whole shebang seemed significant in some or the other way. And I was so indebt for all that happened. Basically, the touch of travelling solo made me think and rewind instances from my life. How these experiences might had turned things around for me.
Footloosing solo is like of pulling off fifty crunches. You will sweat up more every time the clock ticks. Your thanksgiving belly will feel every burn, your body will cry but you are bound to feel positive after the last set. Very positive about life as a whole. Travelling alone is hard and sometimes makes you wonder about things that never even happened.
There are times when you actually are painfully alone. Full disclosure, the saying “when you travel alone, you are never alone” is a bit of an exaggeration. When you set out on your own, you are not a tourist anymore. You, my friend are looking for answers. Answers even a shrink can’t pull out of your lungs. Laugh, cry, cheer, scream, take risks and never stop surprising yourself.
You might not cover every corner of your location, but the place covers your every corner.