Solo Travel Quotes

The steward just asked me if I was not afraid to travel alone, and I said, "Why, it is life.

The trees were friendly, they gave me rest and shadowed refuge. Slipping through them, I felt safe and competent. My whole body was occupied. I had little energy to think or worry.

When you're (traveling) with someone else, you share each discovery, but when you are alone, you have to carry each experience with you like a secret, something you have to write on your heart, because there's no other way to preserve it.

Embrace those parts of yourself that you've skillfully avoided until now. That's your true adventure.

Karen, her elbows folded on the deck-rail, wanted to share with someone her pleasure in being alone: this is the paradox of any happy solitude.

Life lessons are not journeys traveled in straight lines but are crossroads formed years and miles apart.

...what I'm getting at is like the distinction between tourist and a traveler. The tourist experience is superficial and glancing. The traveler develops a deeper connection with her surroundings. She is more invested in them -- the traveler stays longer, makes her own plans, chooses her own destination, and usually travels alone: solo travel and solo participation, although the most difficult emotionally, seem the most likely to produce a good story.

Viviré en París y no comeré nada que no sea chocolate; además fumaré puros, me inyectaré heroína y solo escucharé a Jimi Hendrix y The Doors.

Traveling alone makes you vulnerable to being moved by things.

Some journeys can only be traveled alone.

Los halagos no significan nada para ella, no cree en ellos. Solo las críticas arrancan un rubor a sus mejillas y atraen su atención. Si yo le dijera algo despectivo, ella siempre lo recordaría.

Don’t put off your adventures while you wait for available friends to join.

Un luogo non è mai solo “quel” luogo: quel luogo siamo un po’ anche noi. In qualche modo, senza saperlo, ce lo portavamo dentro e un giorno, per caso, ci siamo arrivati.

Go quietly, alone; no harm will befall you.

Ho guadagnato una vita, un biglietto per la morte, e viaggio ancora. In certi momenti ho creduto d'essere giunto, alla fine del viaggio mi sbagliavo. Erano solo imprevisti del cammino.

When your safety is in question follow your intuition. It will help you balance along the precipice between vulnerability and adventure.

Sometimes we have to break down to break through.

La strada non presa Due strade divergevano in un bosco d'autunno e dispiaciuto di non poterle percorrere entrambe, essendo un solo viaggiatore, a lungo indugiai fissandone una, più lontano che potevo fin dove si perdeva tra i cespugli. Poi presi l'altra, che era buona ugualmente e aveva forse l'aspetto migliore perché era erbosa e meno calpestata sebbene il passaggio le avesse rese quasi uguali. Ed entrambe quella mattina erano ricoperte di foglie che nessun passo aveva annerito oh, mi riservai la prima per un altro giorno anche se, sapendo che una strada conduce verso un'altra, dubitavo che sarei mai tornato indietro. Lo racconterò con un sospiro da qualche parte tra molti anni: due strade divergevano in un bosco ed io - io presi la meno battuta, e questo ha fatto tutta la differenza.

And like tea dissolving in hot water, the sun dissolved in the sky… creating a velvet horizon, announcing for the stars’ night dance with the moon, the awaited joy for the wounded souls. -- From Bali – The Rebirth

Rule #1 of Traveling- Don't even think of answering questions that contain the word "plan"?

Is there a place you can go to break away for a little while? If you haven't yet built your tree house, it's never too late to start.

While National Geographic magazine had given me a taste of the world, the three-dimensional details of this moment - the tickle of the rain drops, the suck sound of my feet in the mud, the challenge of getting photographs of the monkeys, my immature urge to make the driver wait even longer because he was annoying - would feed me for years to come.

Call it walking meditation or a neighborhood stroll; by whatever name suits you, rediscover the art of meandering.

Keep moving. Your next big thing may be just around the corner.

When life hands you lemons, why stop at lemonade? Create an entire product line.

Each of us has our definition of adventure: ending an unsatisfying relationship, returning to school, parachute jumping or training for a marathon. Go ahead. Get your thrill on.

Whether by plane, bus or carpet, own the magic in your ride.

Slowly, all the days became Saturdays, full of more sunlight than I could remember seeing in a long time.

Lui la seguì, senza maglietta: portava solo i boxer. Non era costretto a seguirla. Il cuore di Bridget faceva le fusa. Tese una mano verso di lui. «Sapevi che sarei venuta?» chiese. Faticava a distinguere i lineamenti di Eric, nell’oscurità. «Non volevo» rispose lui. Fece una lunga pausa. «E lo speravo»

It’s weird,” I said. “In one way I feel almost crushed by all the freedom, but the longer I travel, the more I feel like I’m exhaling after holding my breath for years. It’s like I’m breathing normally again.

Our lives follow the stories we tell ourselves.

Travel in the direction of what you resist. On the way, you will meet a version of yourself who has been seeking you.

Give full attention to life’s moments and the images you capture will be everlasting.

We don’t know what’s coming next, but we can go to it with purpose. We can go to it dancing.

You just destroy the thing you love by weighing it down.

We’re born to pilot our own plane and explore the world, not sit in the airport.

I don't care to duplicate the travels that others have taken

Solo Travel?? Even if you taking yourself along, you are traveling with a huge crowd

If I had to insult anyone, I would say, "If you're the last person on earth, I will still do solo traveling

I like being alone when there's no one around. It's a nice freedom to be the only one there, humming and coping, following my impulse. Being by myself in a public place is different, though, and requires a certain sturdiness. It brings in the element of self-consciousness.

Traveling solo is an incredible – life changing – journey, which I can recommend anyone to undertake. It’s the fear of being alone that prevents many people from daring to take the step to go on that journey. But as with many things, within that fear you’ll discover the greatest triumphs.

I like the idea that when I die, I will have a long sit-down chat with God and get answers to all my questions. For example, those apple cores that I threw out of car windows when I was a child—did any of them become trees? Few boys or men had ever asked me out. I told myself that it was because I was almost 6-feet tall. Was that true or was there something humbling I needed to know?

Ma come stabilire il momento esatto in cui comincia una storia? Tutto è sempre cominciato già da prima, la prima riga della prima pagina d'ogni romanzo rimanda a qualcosa che è già successo fuori dal libro. Oppure la vera storia è quella che comincia dieci o cento pagine più avanti e tutto ciò che precede è solo un prologo. Le vite degli individui della specie umana formano un intreccio continuo, in cui ogni tentativo di separare un pezzo di vissuto che abbia un senso separatamente dal resto - per esempio, l'incontro di due persone che diventerà decisivo per entrambi - deve tener conto che ciascuno dei due porta con sé un tessuto di ambienti fatti altre persone, e che dall'incontro deriveranno a loro volta altre storie che si separeranno dalla loro storia comune.

È uno speciale piacere che ti dà il libro appena pubblicato, non è solo un libro che porti con te ma la sua novità, che potrebbe essere anche solo quella dell’oggetto uscito ora dalla fabbrica, la bellezza dell’asino di cui anche i libri s’adornano, che dura finché la copertina non comincia a ingiallire, un velo di smog a depositarsi sul taglio, il dorso a sdrucirsi agli angoli, nel rapido autunno delle biblioteche. No, tu speri sempre d’imbatterti nella novità vera, che essendo stata novità una volta, continui a esserlo per sempre. Avendo letto il libro appena uscito, ti approprierai di questa novità dal primo istante, senza dover poi inseguirla, rincorrerla. Sarà questa la volta buona? Non si sa mai. Vediamo come comincia.

Forse la felicità dipende solo dall’insieme di piccoli dettagli positivi — il semaforo che diventa verde nel secondo in cui tu arrivi — e negativi — l’etichetta della T-shirt che ti pizzica sul collo — che capitano a ciascuno durante un giorno. Forse a ciascuno è assegnata un’identica quantità di felicità al giorno.Forse non aveva importanza se eri un rubacuori celebre in tutto il mondo o un patetico solitario. Forse non importava se una tua amica stava morendo.Forse a certe cose si passa attraverso e basta. Forse era l’unica cosa che si poteva chiedere.

Alzò lo sguardo verso il cielo: un ricamo di foglie di quercia che risaltava in negativo. Allargò le braccia, come in croce. Rimase lì per un bel po’, qualche ora, non avrebbe saputo dire quanto. Avrebbe voluto pregare, ma si sentì in colpa perché lo faceva solo quando aveva bisogno. E non era nemmeno sicura di voler attirare su di sé l’attenzione di Dio: lei, la ragazza-che-prega-solo-quando-ha-bisogno-di-qualcosa. Magari lo avrebbe irritato. Forse avrebbe dovuto trattenersi, e pregare quando fosse riuscita a farlo solo per il desiderio di pregare, in modo che Lui la riprendesse in simpatia. Ma Dio (scusa, Dio), chi mai si ricorda di pregare quando le cose filano a gonfie vele? La gente buona, ecco chi si ricorda. E lei non era così

Travellers should always be ready to go wherever they need to, no matter the cost or time involved.

Travel, travel often, and travel more. Travel is the best way to appreciate your life.

People want to help I woman alone. Or try to get in her pants.

You travel, things change, you change, you meet new people, you get new ideas. And before you know it, your life has changed.

sometimes, something happens that jolts you to reality and causes you to reevaluate what’s important in life and what you really want out of it. For

The beauty of traveling solo is that you wonder unexpectedly, but almost certainly into the direction you were meant to go.

If you built the box, you can also break it down.

No map? No problem. Let commitment and determination lead the way.

If it’s true we only live once, then raise your red velvet curtain every chance you get.

At chaos’ core lies the invitation.

Much of what we acquire in life isn’t worth dragging to the next leg of our journey. Travel light. You will be better equipped to travel far.

Till your inner garden and your outer landscape will flourish

Be who you are. You may not always please but you will never go wrong.

If you want it badly enough, it’s yours.

I was 8,569 miles away, 37 butt-numbing hours of travel across seven time zones in the last two days, or was it three? Amelia Earhart, eat your heart out.

Remember: this is not a guidebook, it is a map. Wander at your whimsy.

How many times had she wanted to have this conversation? How many times had she rehearsed all the things she wanted to say to him?

I am seated here Alone A thousand miles away From everybody But if I have myself And my sanity I’ve got nothing else to lose

I win—I pay your debt, and in return, you hop off the Cillian is Satan train. If my wife wants to ride it, she’ll buy her own ticket and travel solo.

I turned into Little Red Riding Hood. I made a cake, packed it up and went through the forest until I met the wolves. That's something the story got wrong, wolves don't travel solo, they hunt in packs.

Asuna imagined the light that made up their souls trading infinite information. She knew for certain that no matter what world, no matter how long they traveled, their hearts would never be apart. In fact, their hearts had been connected long ago. Since the moment they disappeared in a rainbow aurora above the collapse of Aincrad, or perhaps even before that - as lonely solo players who met deep in a dark labyrinth.

War is too big for us. Poverty is too alienating for us. Corruption is too complicated for us. But the killing of innocent voiceless animals for food that we relish in our dining rooms-that is something we can change.

People dream. They talk about escaping from it all. Their friends and family diligently listen and politely ignore it when the ruminations fade into oblivion. So quite a few eyebrows went up when I made this trip a reality.

I'll tell you what I miss. I miss that throbbing heart telling me to take a leap when the sky looks too dark. I miss the walk that I took in the narrow cobblestoned pathways that fumed of history and undying stories of love and loss. I miss the coffee that scented like mist in a frozen dream in a land of strange beauty. I miss the afternoon tea that followed my pen to hours of happy melancholy. I miss the muse I saw dance in a foreign land of near heart. I miss the stranger smiling at me from a corner and teaching me his language to smile at my twinkled happiness. I miss that symphony of mad evenings ending in a sky full of stars to fill my soul with an unknown ecstasy. I miss that hand of an old woman trying to tell me her story. I miss that child running up to me in a crowd of unknown faces to hand me her candy. I miss that night where I lay back on a distant balcony gazing at the solitary moon for hours knowing that it is shining at my homeland just as bright. I miss that stranger listening to my heart and telling me how beautiful it is. I miss a wandering soul, who went on filling her breath with life of eternal love in the wings of Life. And I'll tell you now when I look back I see how wonderful Time has treated me and how grateful I am to have lived in moments that roar of a beautiful Life lived with a heart throbbing to take a leap once again in that ocean of Life's beguiling journey.

And if I'd be left alone in the woods again, I smiled to think how I'd find new gifts and thrive. At the end of a long trail and the beginning of the rest of my life, I was committed to always loving myself. I would put myself in that win-win situation.

«Il viaggio non finisce mai. Solo i viaggiatori finiscono. E anche loro possono prolungarsi in memoria, in ricordo, in narrazione. Quando il viaggiatore si è seduto sulla sabbia della spiaggia e ha detto “Non c’è altro da vedere”, sapeva che non era vero. La fine di un viaggio è solo l’inizio di un altro. Bisogna vedere quel che non si è visto, vedere di nuovo quel che si è già visto, vedere in primavera quel che si era visto in estate, veder di giorno quel che si era visto di notte, con il sole dove prima pioveva, vedere le messi verdi, il frutto maturo, la pietra che ha cambiato posto, l’ombra che non c’era. Bisogna ritornare sui posti già dati, per ripeterli, e per tracciarvi a fianco nuovi cammini. Bisogna ricominciare il viaggio. Sempre ». José Saramago, “Viaggio in Portogallo

For the rest of my life, Zanzibar will be the Swahili word for rain. The rain would drizzle, spit, mist, downpour, shower, torrent, gust, deluge and blast. At one point it hit the ground so hard it created a haze as it bounced back up two feet and fell a second time.

I skipped between the dancers, twirling my skirts. The seated, masked musicians didn’t look up at me as I leaped before them, dancing in place. No chains, no boundaries—just me and the music, dancing and dancing. I wasn’t faerie, but I was a part of this earth, and the earth was a part of me, and I would be content to dance upon it for the rest of my life. One of the musicians looked up from his fiddling, and I halted. Sweat gleamed on the strong column of his neck as he rested his chin upon the dark wood of the fiddle. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the cords of muscle along his forearms. He had once mentioned that he would have liked to be a traveling minstrel if not a warrior or a High Lord—now, hearing him play, I knew he could have made a fortune from it. “I’m sorry, Tam,” Lucien panted, appearing from nowhere. “I left her alone for a little at one of the food tables, and when I caught up to her, she was drinking the wine, and—” Tamlin didn’t pause in his playing. His golden hair damp with sweat, he looked marvelously handsome—even though I couldn’t see most of his face. He gave me a feral smile as I began to dance in place before him. “I’ll look after her,” Tamlin murmured above the music, and I glowed, my dancing becoming faster. “Go enjoy yourself.” Lucien fled. I shouted over the music, “I don’t need a keeper!” I wanted to spin and spin and spin. “No, you don’t,” Tamlin said, never once stumbling over his playing. How his bow did dance upon the strings, his fingers sturdy and strong, no signs of those claws that I had come to stop fearing … “Dance, Feyre,” he whispered. So I did. I was loosened, a top whirling around and around, and I didn’t know who I danced with or what they looked like, only that I had become the music and the fire and the night, and there was nothing that could slow me down. Through it all, Tamlin and his musicians played such joyous music that I didn’t think the world could contain it all. I sashayed over to him, my faerie lord, my protector and warrior, my friend, and danced before him. He grinned at me, and I didn’t break my dancing as he rose from his seat and knelt before me in the grass, offering up a solo on his fiddle to me.

But life seemed fuller, more populated than it had a year ago. She went to exhibitions and films, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend, and when she’d saved enough of Neil’s money, which was her money, she went on a solo trip to Italy, role-playing a character in a Forster novel. In Florence, she read performatively in cafés and sat in the cool of exquisite churches, straining for some kind of spiritual feeling. In Rome, she visited the Non-Catholic Cemetery and sought out the graves of Keats and Shelley and found herself moved and mortified by being moved.

When someone asks, "What do you do?” don't start with your occupation or family status. Instead, tell them about the "real you" with a spin. You might say, "Back home I'm run a coffee shop, but on this trip, I'm getting in touch with the part of me who wished she'd studied archeology.

Over the last decade my life has been almost exclusively pre-occupied by the desire for adventure, my mind relentlessly buzzing with plans for future journeys. And yet, as soon as my wish to disappear over the horizon into some remote corner of the planet is granted, my mind clings onto all the sentimental details of home and I find that my daydreams of escaping across wide open spaces are replaced not just by precious recollections of moments of affection with a loved one but by fond memories of family gatherings, jokes shared with siblings and time with friends. Expeditions temporarily empty my life of all but the basic concerns of eating, sleeping, travel and staying safe. Like clearing undergrowth from a garden to discover the outline of borders and flowerbeds underneath, reducing life to just the essentials reveals the fundamental structure that underpins the whole. I found that, with life at its most basic and my spirit stretched, what was most dear to me was memories of time spent with those I love. I take this as a clear indication that, above all else, this is what is important in my life. It was a lesson I had been taught before, but a lesson I needed to learn again. It was a lesson I needed to remember.

La prima [canzone] tradotta in italiano con il titolo "Lo Straniero" rappresenta in fondo la condizione di tutti quelli che hanno la passione per le lingue. Siamo sempre stranieri, all'estero come nel nostro paese, figli di un altrove che non ci stanchiamo mai di cercare ma che esiste solo nelle nostre fantasie.

Aimlessness isn’t purposelessness. Not to me. Aimlessness isn’t meaningless. Quite the contrary. Aimlessness isn’t absence from life, it is full-bodied presence in it. To wander aimlessly is to move through the world without the conceit that we actually know what is coming next. That is, to move through the world with grace.

One of the top reasons women don’t want to travel solo is the prospect of eating alone in public. Take heart: no one cares, and if they do, why do you care what they think? You’ll never see those people again. Some of the most memorable meals of my travels have been in the company of strangers—often locals, including waitresses.

Do we ever stop dreaming? I know I haven't. I must have been at least twenty-five when the Spice Girls happened, and I distinctly remember imagining my way into the group. I was going to be the sixth Spice, 'Massive Spice', who, against all the odds, would become the most popular and lusted-after Spice. The Spice who sang the vast majority of solo numbers in the up-tempo tracks. The Spice who really went the distance. And I still haven't quite given up on the Wimbledon Ladies' Singles Championship. I mean, it can't be too late, can it? I've got a lovely clean T-shirt, and I've figured out exactly how I'd respond to winning the final point (lie on floor wailing, get up, do triumphant lap of the ring slapping crowd members' box). It can't be just me who does this. I'm convinced that most adults, when travelling alone in a car, have a favourite driving CD of choice and sing along to it quite seriously, giving it as much attitude and effort as they can, due to believing – in that instant – that they're the latest rock or pop god playing to a packed Wembley stadium. And there must be at least one man, one poor beleaguered City worker, who likes to pop into a phone box then come out pretending he's Superman. Is there someone who does this? Anyone? If so, I'd like to meet you and we shall marry in the spring (unless you're really, really weird and the Superman thing is all you do, in which case BACK OFF).

she went on a solo trip to Italy, role-playing a character in a Forster novel. In Florence, she read performatively in cafés and sat in the cool of exquisite churches, straining for some kind of spiritual feeling. In Rome, she visited the Non-Catholic Cemetery and sought out the graves of Keats and Shelley and found herself moved and mortified by being moved.

Leggere, – egli dice, – è sempre questo: c’è una cosa che è lì, una cosa fatta di scrittura, un oggetto solido, materiale, che non si può cambiare, e attraverso questa cosa ci si confronta con qualcos’altro che non è presente, qualcos’altro che fa parte del mondo immateriale, invisibile, perché è solo pensabile, immaginabile, o perché c’è stato e non c’è più, passato, perduto, irraggiungibile, nel paese dei morti...

By necessity, we are direct and swift in speech and movement. This is the true dynamic that underlies our apocryphal rudeness. Also true: we do not make eye contact. Neither do we encourage it. Consider the number of humans a New Yorker will pass on a given day – on the subway, in a train or bus terminal, in an office or simply walking down the street. To facilitate speed and minimize drama, it’s productive to keep one’s eyes focused ahead.

In my travels, I encounter practitioners who have used the tools for years. “I’ve done Morning Pages for fifteen years,” a man recently told me. His Morning Pages—three pages of longhand, morning writing, have filled journal after journal. He doesn’t give them up, because they “work.” A woman tells me the second primary tool, Artist Dates, a once a week, festive, solo expedition, have given her a life of adventure. Used together, Morning Pages and Artist Dates do transform lives.

A lot of people think I'm brave because I quit my job and traveled the world alone in search of purpose. And yes, doing this required a lot of courage. But for introverts like me, there are things that care us even more than performing or traveling solo. At the top of the list might be saying "I love you" for the first time, or opening up to someone new. Remember, the bravest acts happen in quiet moments. When you feel afraid to speak up or try something new, but you do it anyway, you are the definition of courage.

Until that rainy Sunday at the movies 31 years ago, for me, companionship had been a mandate for life’s good times. After Orca, it became a choice. My trip to the theater helped me to distinguish between loneliness (experienced by default), and solitude (choosing when and how to enjoy my own company), as I began a journey of engaging the world on my own terms. Over the years, that journey deepened as I traveled life’s roads with increasing independence and confidence, whether I was attending graduate school at night while working during the day, buying my first house or changing careers.

Seek joy. Seek more questions than answers. Seek jobs, friends, lovers, homes in which or with whom you feel utterly yourself. Better yet, seek experiences that challenge you to become even more yourself — that is, to grow. And if you should find more growth in movement, do not stop moving. And if you should find more meaning in stillness, stay still. And if at the end you still should wonder if you ever did find your calling, look back over the one inimitable path behind you, and ask your footsteps what you have learned. Hint: The right questions lead not to answers, but to doors. We don’t find our calling, we walk it.

There was a time when my married friends envied me my singleness, or said they did. I was having fun, ran the line, and they were not. Recently, though, they've revised this view. They tell me I ought to travel, since I have the freedom for it. They give me brochures with palm trees on them. What they have in mind is a sunshine cruise, a shipboard romance, an adventure. I can think of nothing worse: stuck on an overheated boat with a lot of wrinkly women, all bent on adventure too. So I stuff the brochures in behind the toaster oven, so convenient for solo dinners, where one of these days they will no doubt burst into flame. I get enough adventure, right around here. It's wearing me out.

No se asombre de verme siempre vagando con los ojos. En realidad este es mi modo de leer, y solo así la lectura me resulta fructífera. Si un libro me interesa realmente, no logro seguirlo más que unas cuantas líneas sin que mi mente, captando un pensamiento que el texto le propone, o un sentimiento, o un interrogante, o una imagen, se salga por la tangente y salte de pensamiento en pensamiento, de imagen en imagen, por un itinerario de razonamientos y fantasías que siento la necesidad de recorrer hasta el final, alejándome del libro hasta perderlo de vista. El estímulo de la lectura me es indispensable, y de una lectura sustanciosa, aunque solo consiga leer unas cuantas páginas de cada libro. Pero ya esas páginas encierran para mí universos enteros, a cuyo fondo no consigo llegar.

Dubrovnik, Croatia Dubrovnik’s old architecture, all wrapped within its ancient stone walls, have made this city a World Heritage Site. It’s an old sea port that sits above the Adriatic Sea. Its background, from medieval times was trade between the east and Europe and the city rivalled Venice for its reach and connections. Today, however, the principle economy is based on tourism. The old town is a warren of narrow, cobbled streets, sometimes steep, but pedestrianised which makes it easy to walk. However, be careful – signs do not always point to where they say they are going – many of them are old and the hotels, restaurants, bus stations have moved. The City Walls might look familiar to fans of Game of Thrones – many scenes were filmed here and there are Game of Thrones tours to visit the film’s settings. The area suffered a devastating earthquake in the 17th century, therefore much of the original architecture did not survive. The Sponza Palace, near the Bell Tower, is one of the few Gothic buildings left in the city. The Stradun is the main street in the Old Town – restaurants, shops and bars all pour out onto here. It’s lively, especially towards the end of the day. Don’t forget that the city’s location on the coast means that it also has beautiful beaches. Lapad Beach is two miles outside of town, and has a chilled atmosphere. Banje Beach is closer to the old town. It has an entrance fee and is livelier. One of the reasons Dubrovnok appeals to solo travellers is because it has a low crime rate. In addition, its cobbled streets and artistic shops all make browsing easy.

A short, older man stepped up to me, sticking out his hand and saying something I couldn't hear. Thinking, "Now who's this?" I took out one of my ear monitors and said, "Sorry, I couldn't hear you." He spoke again, smiling, "Hello, I'm Charlie Watts." "Oh!" I said, taken aback, "Hello." And I shook his hand. He asked if we were going on soon, and I said yes, any minute, and he said, with a twinkle, "I'm going to watch you!" I suppose if I could have felt more pressured, that might have done it, but I was already at maximum intensity — there was no time to think of Charlie Watts and the Rolling Stones, watching them on The T.A.M.I. Show or "Ed Sullivan" when I was twelve-and-a-half, hearing "Satisfaction" snarling down the midway at Lakeside Park, Gimme Shelter at the cinema in London, listening to Charlie's beautiful solo album, Warm and Tender, so many times late at night in Quebec, or any of the other million times Charlie Watts and his band had been part of my life.

Odio pensare a te che aspetti, so che mi hai aspettato per tutta la vita, sempre incerta su quanto lunga sarebbe stata l'attesa. Dieci minuti, dieci giorni. Un mese. Che marito inaffidabile sono stato, Clare, come un marinaio, un Ulisse solo e schiaffeggiato dalle onde, a volte astuto e a volte soltanto un giocattolo nelle mani degli dèi. Ti prego, Clare. Quando sarò morto, smettila di aspettare e sii libera. Quanto a me... mettimi dentro di te, in profondità, e poi esci nel mondo e vivi. Ama il mondo e te stessa in esso, attraversalo come se non offrisse resistenza, come se fosse il tuo elemento naturale. Ti ho dato una vita di animazione sospesa. Non voglio dire che tu non abbia fatto niente. Hai creato bellezza e significato nella tua arte e Alba, che è davvero incredibile; e per me, per me sei stata tutto. Dopo la morte della mamma, mio padre si è lasciato consumare completamente dalla sua assenza. A lei sarebbe dispiaciuto. Ogni minuto della vita di mio padre è stato segnato dall'assenza della mamma, ogni gesto era privo di senso perché lei non c'era a sostenerne il confronto. E quando ero giovane non capivo, ma adesso so come l'assenza possa farsi presenza, come un nervo danneggiato, come un uccello sinistro. Se avessi dovuto vivere senza di te so che non ce l'avrei fatta. Ma spero, ho questa visione di te che cammini libera, con i capelli che brillano al sole. Non l'ho visto con i miei occhi, soltanto con l'immaginazione che costruisce fantasie, che ha sempre voluto dipingerti splendente, eppure spero che la visione corrisponda al vero.

Senti, sono poche le persone che incontrano la loro anima gemella a sei anni. E bisogna pur passare il tempo, in un modo o nell'altro. Ingrid era molto... paziente. Straordinariamente paziente. Disposta ad accettare comportamenti assurdi nella speranza che un giorno io mi dessi una regolata e sposassi la sua infelice persona. Quando qualcuno è così paziente tu sei obbligato a provare gratitudine nei suoi confronti e di conseguenza vorresti fargli del male per punirlo. Capisci cosa intendo?" "Penso di sì. Cioè no, per me non è così, io non penso in questa maniera." Henry sospira. "È molto affascinante da parte tua ignorare la contorta logica che sta alla base della maggior parte delle relazioni. Va così, fidati. Quando ci siamo incontrati ero un rottame, un uomo disperato, mi sto riprendendo piano piano perché vedo che tu sei un essere umano e vorrei essere un essere umano anch'io. Ho cercato di farlo senza che tu te ne accorgessi, perché non ho ancora capito che fra di noi tutte le finzioni sono inutili. Comunque c'è una grande distanza tra la persona che hai incontrato nel 1991 e quella che viene dal 1996 con cui stai parlando ora. Devi lavorare su di me, non riuscirò ad arrivare fin qui da solo." "Sì. È difficile, però. Non sono abituata a fare la maestra." "Allora tutte le volte che ti sentirai scoraggiata pensa ai pomeriggi che ho passato, e che sto passando ancora, con te bambina. Matematica e botanica, grammatica e storia. Pensa che se puoi dirmi delle parolacce in francese è perché io sono stato con te a farti ripassare le lezioni." "È vero. Il a les défaults de ses qualités. Scommetto che è più facile insegnare tutte quelle materie che insegnare a essere... felici." "Tu mi rendi felice. La parte difficile è rispondere alle tue aspettative.

Sometimes our need clouds our ability to develop perspective. Being needy is kind of like losing your keys. You become desperate and search everywhere. You search in places you know damn well what you are looking for could never be. The more frantic you become in trying to find them the less rational you are in your search. The less rational you become the more likely you'll be searching in a way that actually makes finding what you want more difficult. You go back again and again to where you want them to be, knowing that there is no way in hell that they are there. There is a lot of wasted effort. You lose perspective of your real goal, let's say it's go to the grocery store, and instead of getting what you need -nourishment, you frantically chase your tail growing more and more confused and angry and desperate. You are mad at your keys, you are mad at your coat pockets for not doing their job. You are irrational. You could just grab the spare set, run to the grocery store and get what you need, have a sandwich, calm down and search at your leisure. But you don't. Where ARE your keys?! Your desperation is skewing your judgement. But you need to face it, YOUR keys are not in HIS pocket. You know your keys are not there. You have checked several times. They are not there. He is not responsible for your keys. You are. He doesn't want to be responsible for your keys. Here's the secret: YOU don't want to be responsible for your keys. If you did you would be searching for them in places they actually have a chance of being. Straight boys don't have your keys. You have tried this before. They may have acted like they did because they wanted you to get them somewhere or you may have hoped they did because you didn't want to go alone but straight boys don't have your keys. Straight boys will never have your keys. Where do you really want to go? It sounds like not far. If going somewhere was of importance you would have hung your keys on the nail by the door. Sometimes it's pretty comfortable at home. Lonely but familiar. Messy enough to lose your keys in but not messy enough to actually bother to clean house and let things go. Not so messy that you can't forget about really going somewhere and sit down awhile and think about taking a trip with that cute guy from work. Just a little while longer, you tell yourself. His girlfriend can sit in the backseat as long as she stays quiet. It will be fun. Just what you need. And really isn't it much safer to sit there and think about taking a trip than accepting all the responsibility of planning one and servicing the car so that it's ready and capable? Having a relationship consists of exposing yourself to someone else over and over, doing the work and sometimes failing. It entails being wrong in front of someone else and being right for someone too. Even if you do find a relationship that other guy doesn't want to be your chauffeur. He wants to take turns riding together. He may occasionally drive but you'll have to do some too. You will have to do some solo driving to keep up your end of the relationship. Boyfriends aren't meant to take you where you want to go. Sometimes they want to take a left when you want to go right. Being in a relationship is embarking on an uncertain adventure. It's not a commitment to a destination it is just a commitment to going together. Maybe it's time to stop telling yourself that you are a starcrossed traveler and admit you're an armchair adventurer. You don't really want to go anywhere or you would venture out. If you really wanted to know where your keys were you'd search in the most likely spot, down underneath the cushion of that chair you've gotten so comfortable in.

No hay nada como viajar solo, sin amigos ni compañeros que influyan en las opiniones de uno. La soledad es la que hace que un viaje merezca la pena: estar a solas con fuerzas históricas con paisajes y libros como únicos guías.

Tell them about your blog. What is your blog about? Try to narrow it down to a theme. For example, my theme is intentional leadership. Next explain what kinds of things you write about. I think it is best to limit yourself to a handful of categories. The more focused your content, the more readers you will attract. Kate McCulley’s About page on Adventurous Kate’s Solo Female 104 Travel Blog gives a few fun facts about Kate (she has been shipwrecked and once made a pass at Jon Stewart; she quit her job to travel the world), and then dives right into her theme: I am a solo traveler at heart, and one of my goals is to show women that solo travel can be safe, easy, cheap and a lot of fun. Meanwhile, I’m committed to showing you what the lifestyle of a long-term traveler and online entrepreneur is like. Like anyone else in the world, I have good times and bad times, but I promise to show you reality—with honesty and humor.3

The rules to complete the Meanest Link are lengthy but straightforward. Paddlers can start the loop at any store and travel in either direction. You can do a section at a time or the whole loop in one go, which is known as the Full Link. No solo trips are recognized for safety reasons. You have to use the same watercraft for the whole section. You can paddle as fast or as slow as you like. The Meanest Link is not a race, but it’s perceived as one by most. You must visit, and preferably stay on, Bill Swift’s favorite site on Lake Lavielle, and cheers a preferred beverage — his was a can of Genesee Cream Ale. And on the Opeongo to Oxtongue Link, you have to go up the Little Mad to Source Lake, stop at Camp Pathfinder to pay your respects to the spot where it all began for Bill Swift in Algonquin.

Barcelona Barcelona is a modern city with an outdoor lifestyle. Markets, churches, architecture, restaurants, beaches, boulevards are perfect for any explorer who loves to be independent. The city is Spain’s second largest (1.6 million in habitants). It was founded on ancient roots, Hannibal’s father settled here in the 3rd century BC and, from there, it was a Roman settlement before being taken over by the Goths, North Africans, French and finally Spanish – although it still has a streak of independence and a strong movement toward Catalan home rule. An airport bus, Aerobus, connects the airport with the city centre. The bus runs every 10—20 minutes and takes around 30 minutes. The Metro system (stations are marked M) connects most of the

city – from the beach to the Olympic hillside. For tourists who don’t want to grapple with public transport, there is the Barcelona Bus Turistic made up of three bus lines – blue, red and green routes that explore different parts of the city. You can get on and off at any point. Normally, I stay away from these double‐decker tourist explorers, but for a city as large as Barcelona, the system makes getting from beach to cathedrals to hillside parks very easy. There are also walking tours for those with very comfortable shoes. Barcelona offers so much to visitors that I couldn’t possibly tell you what to visit. But items not to miss are, in my opinion, the architecture of Antoni Gaudi which includes his unique cathedral, La Sagrada Familia which remains unfinished, his apartment building, La Pedrera which has no straight lines on its exterior, and his idealistic Parc Guell, a colourful complex on a high hillside. Within the city of Barcelona you could spend a day or more walking Los Ramblas, a wide pedestrian tree‐lined promenade that is a wonderful place to watch people, taste great food, wine and enjoy life. Nearby is the Placa de Catalunya, the main square with fountains, street artists and restaurants. The Gothic Quarter is walking distance with its network of squares that stretch back to Medieval and Roman times. This city offers so much – a medieval city, art museums, flamenco dancing, cable car to the top of Montjuïc, need I go on? Tours to local vineyards are available as are boat trips that will show you the local coastline. And let’s not forget that Barcelona is a city with beautiful beaches – all relaxed, lined with cafes and restaurants. The