Traveling Alone

I don’t mind a day of solitude—that’s how I recharge. I usually doze off, read, or watch TV the whole day. There was a time I spent Saturdays in bed. At first it struck me as odd, since I usually spend the workweek bound to the workstation, and if I were catching up on sleep, I don’t need to be prone the whole day. But eventually I let it go—who am I to question my body’s wisdom? Rested and refreshed, I put on my public persona for the rest of the week, ready to engage at work and other social interactions.

Cocooning or staycations, those things I know. Traveling alone would be the next logical step, but it was not something I sought out. It came by accident, when a group vacation to Boracay in November two years ago fell through the cracks, and with roundtrip fare paid, I decided to give it a go, solo.

Had I known the advantages of traveling alone, I would have tried it sooner. Everything in my own terms—a control freak’s dream come true, limited only by time and budget. I booked a hotel to my liking—I don’t mind splurging on my holiday digs. Staying in or venturing out—it’s a treat either way. Since I set my own pace, I can choose to wake up early or stay behind the covers. I also didn’t mind the occasional downpour—I love the rains; nor dining solo, since I’ve been doing this for most of my adult life.