My only major experience with traveling alone wasn’t very long – about three days total on the way to meet up with a study abroad group in Cambridge. I wasn’t able to leave any earlier, but those three days were wonderful and terrifying in their own ways. When traveling alone, you’re responsible for everything – you also only have to cater to yourself. No one could watch my bags except for me, and it ended up feeling strange a year later when I was traveling with a friend who volunteered to watch the bags on public transport while I rested. When traveling with my friend, we could take turns being responsible and she came up with great plans that I won’t have thought of, but we also had to cater to each other’s quirks and needs. I think both experiences have their places in our lives.

My solo trip landed first in Iceland early in the morning. I’m a planner, so I had a schedule and itinerary all planned out and I hit the ground running. But, I hadn’t anticipated just how tired I would be after my long flight, so I was struggling to make it through my schedule. I walked around Reykjavik in those early morning hours and it felt eerie how still and quiet the city was, but I loved the feeling of walking around a city by myself. The sun was up, but no one else was. It was summer, so I think true darkness only showed up around midnight or 1:00 am and it left by 5:00 am. I saw some monuments, and then went to a Viking museum once it opened. There, I got to walk across a replica Viking ship which was the true highlight. Eventually, the flight and my touring wore me down and I talked my hotel into letting me check in early. I fell asleep so hard and so fast in that little room. The scariest experience for me in Iceland was trying to navigate a grocery store because I didn’t want to eat out for every meal (as I was a poor college student). The packaging was in Icelandic (of course) and the clerks mistook me for Icelandic and tried speaking to me in the language. I struggle with languages and forget everything I do know when someone speaks to me, so all I had the ability to do was shake my head and look confused. The rest of that first day I spent wandering the streets – at some point I visited the church with the highest view point in Reykjavik and took a walking tour, but I couldn’t tell you which days those happened on or it which order. It’s funny how memory does that.

One day, I had my favorite experience in Iceland. I drove out to Sejlandfoss which was a few hours through beautiful country away from the city. It’s a large waterfall that you can follow a trail and walk behind/around. It’s other worldly and utterly unable to be captured into words, although I’ve been trying for years. After journeying through miles of gorgeous green landscapes broken up by lava fields, you arrive at a nondescript green, slight rocky mountain-y area. There’s a ton of cars, so I park and follow the signs for Sejlandfoss. After a short walk, I round the bend to find a large waterfall pouring off the mountain with a dirt track leading up and around the back of it. It’s amazing from a distance, but as I follow the crowds of people up the trail and around, it becomes more and more awe-inspiring. The power of the water rushing over the cliff and down into the river below – there’s not a word for it. The spray of the water hits you as you follow the trail and you can’t stop for long with people behind you, but for a moment, you have to just sit and soak in the sounds and sight.

Then, you have to continue along the trail to allow others their moments of awe. In reading about Sejlandfoss online, of which there is a sad limit of material, I saw mention of some secret waterfall further down the trail that not many people knew about. My interest piqued, but not knowing where to go, I followed the trail. I found a little waterfall, that while beautiful, didn’t seem worth the hype so I kept going until the trail ended at some camp grounds and a creek. I didn’t want to tromp through campsites, so I was observing the creek where it disappeared between two cliffs when I realized that I could hear people down the creek inside the cliff! They came out and told me and a couple nearby that there were rocks making a trail through the cliff and it opened up to something incredible – so we went! (As I type this, I think about how that could have been a trap for something dangerous as a solo female traveler, but I don’t think that bothered me at the time.) And, it was incredible! We, myself and another group, walked along the rocks sticking out of water and found a cavern opening just a little ways in that had a massive waterfall pouring down into it. I stood in these tucked away cavern with just a handful of other people watching the largest waterfall I’ve ever seen in person thunder down the cliff edge into the water below. The sound required us to yell at each other to be heard. The spray got everything slight damp. If you got under the waterfall, you would probably need medical attention. I still can’t imagine a natural wonder more awe-inspiring than that moment, and I think it’s because that moment felt like a hidden secret – just for the few willing adventurers.

If I had been traveling with others, would we have gone to Sejlandfoss at all? There’s more well-known waterfalls and sights closer to Reykjavik and so we wouldn’t have had to drive so far. The hidden waterfall was a random discovery, would we have gone that way in a group? Beyond that, I think part of what made that experience so magical for me was being alone in it. There’s a magic in discovery with loved ones, but there’s also a magic in feeling like you’ve discovered something all on your own (with several strangers around, of course).

After Iceland, I journeyed to London, England to spend a day before meeting up with my group, and it was there that I felt the pains of solo travel most keenly. I was also tired and weary from my long days in Iceland where I stayed up far too late wandering because the sun was still up at 11:00p. I went to the British Museum, but had done no research ahead of time, had no idea what was in there, and mostly wandered randomly until I admitted that I was too tired for a museum and left. It was only later when I returned to the museum with my study abroad group that I learned that there were things like mummies, an Easter Island statue, and the Rosetta Stone located in the museum. I was staying in a hostel, so I didn’t have a great place to rest but I rested some there in preparation for going on the London Eye at sunset (I had done a great deal of research on the London eye and none on the British Museum – priorities). I paid way too much to have the VIP experience on the Eye, but the only person I had to answer to was myself and I enjoyed the experience. But, it would have been nice to have someone with me on the Eye as we rotated around. The others in the cabin had someone, but I didn’t. In London, surrounded by so many people (many rude and some kind), is where I felt lonely and longing for someone to share the burden of navigating and decision making with. And, some one to make memories with.

Iceland is my favorite place that I’ve traveled to, but those memories are mine alone. I can tell people about them, I can share pictures, but no one else had those experiences. No one else discovered a hidden waterfall, no one else my specific bad hostel experience, and no one else rode in the London Eye as sunset. And by no one else, I specifically mean no one else in my life. We all have experiences like that that are held by you alone, but I think solo travel makes those experiences stand out more in our memory.

A year later, I traveled to Toronto with one of my best friends, and it was an amazing and new experience for me to travel with a true friend instead of family or fellow students. We were in constant company for that trip, but we also experienced and remember that trip differently because we’re different people with different backgrounds and interests informing how we process our experiences. However, we can still come together and share those memories, and one of us will remember a detail that the other didn’t and that enriches our own memory of the event. The memories create bonding opportunities years later.

I’ve traveled alone and I’ve traveled with friends, and I wouldn’t trade either experience for the other. I long to travel alone again, but I would choose to travel with my husband or friends over traveling alone because the experience of traveling together and the memories that we can hold onto for years down the road is of greater value to me than traveling by myself. Both have value, but right now, I think the value of community is higher for me personally.