Imagine strolling down a beach, golden sand between your toes as you watch the sun’s rays glitter on the surface of the ocean. Yet, you can’t allow yourself to completely bask in the moment for fear that something might happen the instant you close your eyes.
When I first shared my solo travel plans with friends a couple of years ago, I was immediately barraged with a myriad of comments, mixed with shock and awe—“Wow, you’re so brave” or “I could never do this.” Then came the inevitable concern: “Be careful,” “Stay in the big cities” and “I’ll send you a link to a portable lock I saw online.”
As someone who prides themselves on being independent, I enjoy going to the movies, gallery-hopping and having a meal by myself every now and then. Given my deep love for travel, it only seemed natural, then, that solo travelling would be in the cards. Yet my independence didn’t offset my fears, especially those regarding safety.
A booming cultural trend, solo travelling has been framed as a medium of empowerment, liberation and self-discovery. Everyone should travel solo at least once in their lives, content creators emphatically proclaim at the end of their travel videos. Yet how much more consideration is required on the part of women before partaking in such an experience?
Before embarking on my first solo trip, I conducted my research more obsessively than usual—scouring all corners of the internet and social media. I couldn’t leave anything to chance as I might when travelling with friends or family. While I was excited to head to a new destination, my main consideration was my safety. My various measures of caution—double checking my hotel room door every night, staying in central areas and keeping an eye on my surroundings at all times—took centre stage, almost making the idea of exploration seem secondary.
As a woman, I’ve grown up looking over my shoulder. The conditioning we receive from the moment we enter the world is more ubiquitous than one may imagine. We are taught to always be on the lookout for potential threats, to not place ourselves in situations where we may be compromised and that it’s always better to be safe than sorry. These words of caution are ingrained into our minds and executed as if a default stipulation that comes with being a woman. But how does this conditioning thus insidiously chip away at our sense of autonomy?
Instead of following paths already set forth, ask this: how do women actually want to travel?
The discourse around female solo travel is often one-sided—seeming to revolve more around the ‘female’ aspect and less the ‘travel’. While the usual narrative zeroes in on female empowerment and gender equality, we have somehow forgone the leisure and tranquillity that should in turn come from travel.
Women can climb mountains, women can camp outdoors and women can be independent. But why is this something we have to prove? It may feel inspiring to see women succeed in what we perceive as male-dominated activities, but sameness is only an imitation of equality. Instead of following paths already set forth, ask this: how do women actually want to travel?
To address that question, a new crop of retreats has entered the market—designed by women for women. Comprehensive and purposeful, these retreats create a safe space, both physically and psychologically, for women to let loose and unwind. Indulge in a deep-tissue massage against picturesque mountains, decompress with an expert-led mindfulness workshop by the calming ocean, or simply take a breath and allow yourself a break from the outside world.
It’s not about drawing lines, it’s about creating an atmosphere where conversation can flow more freely.
“It’s surprisingly hard to find spaces where women can gather without pressure or performance,” shares Kelsang Dolma, director of PR and special projects at The Red Tent by Nuanu, a new community-led hospitality project in Bali that is designed to foster creativity and empowerment. “The Red Tent is about ease; it’s a place where you don’t have to explain yourself.”
An essential feature of The Red Tent is its exclusivity to women. “There’s value in a space created just for women. It’s not about drawing lines, it’s about creating an atmosphere where conversation can flow more freely,” observes Dolma. “There’s a noticeable shift in energy when women gather on their own. It becomes easier to share, to listen, to let your guard down.”
Seeing the creation of spaces as such is as comforting as it is refreshing. Beyond precious rest and respite from the outside world, these retreats also allow guests to connect with a like-minded sisterhood. From exchanging light-hearted conversation to embarking on soul-searching endeavours, there is no fixed framework of how to act in these spaces. The key is to shed our masks, our socialised performative ways, and just be.
Travelling alone shouldn’t be a restricting factor, but a liberating one. There is value in not having someone to turn to at all times, to moving at your own pace and letting your observations sink in further than they usually would. While you may have to do everything by yourself, you also get to do everything by yourself, and that is the true gem of solo travelling. I still reminisce about the precious moments I spent people-watching in the ancient city of Athens, or clasping a book under my arm as I watched the waves rhythmically crash onto the rocks by the Mediterranean.
Although I have no desire to let go of my solo adventures just yet, perhaps in due time will I truly be able to let loose without having a voice of caution lingering in the back of my mind. I look towards the day when I can simply close my eyes in a moment of ease and open them to the sight of luscious mountains with a light breeze caressing my face. Women are not only carving out spaces of their own, but more importantly reclaiming the idea of travel. The scope of solo travel for us is widening—and it’s one that I plan to continue dipping my toes into.
The May ‘Sonder’ issue of Vogue Singapore is now available online and on newsstands.
