Fiji & New Zealand

Solo travel is not for the faint of heart. Truthfully, I would prefer not to travel alone. I wish I had a companion—maybe even a lover—to travel with… but I’m still working on that.

Still, I love travel. I love discovering new places and experiencing new things. I love learning how other people think, live, and move through the world. Travel makes me feel rich on the inside. It stimulates my brain in ways that nothing else can.

And this trip to New Zealand is one I’ve been dreaming about for over a decade. I originally planned to go for my 50th birthday, but those plans were shattered by COVID travel restrictions. So when the chance came back around, I planned like a woman making up for lost time. Hours of it. Every detail considered. I even arranged my day tours strategically—easing in gently and saving the most adventurous ones for later—because if I sprained an ankle early, I wasn’t about to let one bad moment hijack my whole dream.

Of course, there’s a lot to be said about finding the right travel partner. Compatibility matters: lifestyle, sleep schedule, personality. They must be a fellow adventurer… and a happy camper. Traveling with someone is a great way to get to know them fast. The moment someone’s tired, hungry, and a little turned around, you start seeing the unfiltered version.

Traveling can bring out the worst in people. Most of us relish routine. Not having your own comfy bed, your perfect cup of coffee, your familiar rhythm… it’s disturbing, honestly. And who hasn’t been constipated while traveling? Yes. It’s enough to make anyone grumpy. Routine in the life of a midwife is close to zilch, so I’ll admit—my adaptability is probably a little higher than average.

That said, solo travel does have real benefits. There’s the obvious freedom: setting your own pace, resting when you need to, changing plans without a committee meeting. Full autonomy over itinerary and venues. But it’s deeper than logistics. Solo travel hands you a mirror. It gives you space for self-reflection, confidence-building, pondering, journaling, and reprioritizing life moving forward. Novelty paired with silence sparks creativity.

Solo travel is also a confidence booster. On this trip, I found myself pushing to speak up more—talking to strangers, asking questions, making special requests for myself. (Which sounds small… until you realize how many people go through life quietly hoping someone else will make things easier for them.)

But the disadvantages are real too. Sometimes it’s lonely. Sometimes you’re the one single person in a large group made up of happy families and romantic couples—some newly in love, some tried and true. The solo traveler doesn’t always get the best seats on the bus or the boat, or the best tables at restaurants. There’s no one to bounce ideas off, no second opinion, no built-in teammate if something goes sideways, and no one to share the moment. There’s also a subtle sense of being “on alert” all the time, which is fatiguing in a way you don’t fully notice until you finally exhale.

And being solo—especially as a woman—means I naturally choose safer options. So yes, solo travel can restrict what I feel comfortable doing. There are definitely things I’d feel more confident doing with a companion. It would certainly be easier to drive and navigate with two people. I feel more comfortable hiking, riding a bike, or camping with someone else.

Still, I’m proud of myself for the ways I stretched. I’m definitely ready to drive on the opposite side of the road. Having the driver’s seat on the right side helps—like a built-in reminder not to drift back into autopilot. Being a pedestrian took adjustment. When you cross or enter a street, instead of looking “left, right, left”, you look “right, left, right”. Everything is backwards on the other side of the equator.

On the tours I went on, I seemed to be the one people were most curious about. “You came to Queenstown all by yourself?” “You must own your own business.” I watched their brain cells bang together as they tried to comprehend. Younger people seem much less fazed by solo travel. They bounce from hostel to hostel like it’s nothing. Many of the young people at the silent disco were staying at a hostel, and solo travel seemed like their default, a rite of passage into adulthood. I didn’t have much opportunity to travel when I was young… so I’m making sure to catch up now.

And here’s the truth I keep circling back to: solo travel isn’t what I would prefer, and I play it cautious in many ways because I’m alone. But I can’t put my life on hold waiting for my Prince Charming to appear. I’m going to live my life.

People postpone bucket list dreams all the time—waiting for retirement, waiting for money to come through, waiting for the kids to get through college, waiting for the “right” season of life. But I think it’s a little presumptuous to assume we’re guaranteed the future. What if life throws a curveball?

I’ve seen enough to know that it does. My parents had major health challenges. My dad’s Parkinson’s began at age 47, and by his mid-60s it was slowing him down. In his 70s, he needed around-the-clock care. My mom had kidney failure at 65 and lived on dialysis for years before a kidney transplant. Her immune system walked on thin ice, and she was constantly in and out of the hospital. They used to say to me, “Kim, the golden years ain’t so golden.”

And I get what they meant.

This moment is what matters. No matter what circumstances I’m in, this is my life to create and enjoy. This is the golden hour. This is the golden year. Not something off in the distance.

Travel is what makes me feel alive, so no matter what, I will travel.

And if I must… I will go solo, because I’m done saving the best parts of my life for “someday.”Les mer