That First Truly Solo Journey, Part 1

It was August 2007...

It wasn't meant to be a completely solo trip. I was traveling to London, England for the first time to stay with a family I had worked with several years ago, before they moved back to their home in England. They had offered their guest room for my week-long stay and I was looking forward to reconnecting with them and seeing a city I’ve never seen. Not wanting to monopolize all their time, I booked a few day-long bus tours to break up the week and get in some sightseeing. I'd discovered bus tours during my trip to Melbourne, Australia the year before having taken several on my own while the friend I was visiting was working.

Fast forward to about six weeks before my trip. My friend emails me and asks if she could order a few “light” things from a U.S based store and have them sent to my house so I can bring them with me. She said, "small things like a camera and cosmetics." I agreed, after all I was staying with them for a week and saving a lot of money by not having to pay for a hotel, it was the least I could do. The exchange rate was two to one U.S. dollars to Great Britain pounds, so I knew she was saving money, too.

As the trip neared, nothing had arrived on my doorstep. Finally, about a week before my departure I get another email. "I ordered just one thing, an antique phone," she said. "It isn't that large and should easily fit in your suitcase," she said. No problem, I thought. But, two days later I arrived home from work to find this rather large box on my doorstep. It's just packed in a big box, I thought. Until I opened it and found that it wasn't.

Traveling "light" or not.... Let's back track a bit. One of the things I had learned in my first few international trips was how to travel light. I'll save my tips on how I do that for a future post. I had plans to travel with my 21-inch rolling bag and backpack and take both on board with me. My trip was only a week, so it should be easy; I'd traveled for longer than that with the same two bags. I already knew I would be taking the tube for about an hour to get to their home in the outskirts of London. I didn't want to be lugging more than I could handle as I navigated the airports and trains. Anything I was taking over for them would be room for souvenirs on the return home, right?

Just by looking at the box, I KNEW it would take up a ton of space in my suitcase. But, always one to give things the benefit of the doubt I hauled my suitcase out of the closet and placed the box inside. It fit. BUT, only if I was planning to stay for a day or two. There was no way I could fit even the barest of necessities in my suitcase for a week along with this box! So, I shot off an email to my friend explaining there was no way I could bring it with me, it was too large. I offered to mail it and she could pay me when I got there. She wrote back insistent that I bring the box with me. I replied saying I’d try and also asked if she had a hairdryer I could borrow while I was there as that would be one less thing to pack in my bag. She replied that she did, but that I would “only be able to bathe every other day or so” as they only had a bathtub, not a shower and not a lot of hot water. Wait…WHAT???? I can go with the flow with most things, but this girl likes a daily shower. Period.

But there was more….

In the same message she shares that they now would have family visiting with them the second half of the week I was there, but she'd have them sleep in the common area while I stayed in the guest room. Ok, so I stay in the guest room while her extended family sleeps in the living room? I was not only frustrated about this ridiculous box, but now also uncomfortable thinking I was putting her family out. By now it was about four days before my departure.

The next morning, I visited my parents with the ridiculous box in tow. I thought just maybe they might have a bag or suitcase I could use. No luck. That night, after one of those "self-talks" in the car ride home; I sent off an email to my friend saying I would NOT be bringing the box with me as I simply could not fit it in my suitcase and was worried about bringing it through security (remember this was only about 6 years after 9/11). I also shared that I felt uncomfortable putting her family out so I had booked a hotel for the second half of my week-long stay in London to make it easier for them. I told her I'd mail the box the next day and let her know what it cost.

So,THAT didn’t go well…

I woke up the next morning to a strongly worded email saying she "couldn't believe I wouldn't just bring the box" and a bunch of other things that I can't even remember. I've long since deleted the email. Nevertheless, I headed to the Post Office to mail the box, trying not to choke at the $40 it cost to send it overseas.

I sent an email saying I was sorry but decided to mail the box anyway and had already taken it to the post office. I got another strongly worded response that evening. I was leaving less than 48 hours later.

Last minute changes….

Something just did not feel right. I slept on it. I spent the whole next day thinking about it. All this drama just didn’t seem worth it and I did not want it to ruin my first trip to London. The morning of my departure I made the decision to see if the hotel I had booked for the second half of the week was available for the whole week. It was. Was it an added expense? Of course, it was. But could it potentially save me from feeling uncomfortable for a few days AND give me the opportunity to SHOWER daily? That seemed priceless.

Just hours before I was due to leave for the airport, I booked the hotel for the entire stay. I shot off an email saying I thought it was for the best, provided the hotel details and promised I’d reach out once I got there. I got a response shortly thereafter saying, [her son], whom I’d worked with when they were in the States “was so disappointed that I would not be staying with them.” While I part of me felt badly, I knew in my gut I’d made the right decision.

Those few hours before I left were a blur. Suddenly I was going to be completely solo in a new city. I frantically printed the directions on how to use the Tube to get to my hotel, studying them trying to commit every step to memory. I had a few day trips booked, a travel guide and list of things I wanted to see. Was I nervous? Absolutely. Was I excited? Absolutely. Was I scared? Absolutely.

And I was off. To London. For a week. Completely Solo.

You'll have to wait for the next post to find out how that trip turned out.

"As you travel solo, being totally responsible for yourself; its' inevitable that you will discover just how capable you are."