Lettie Goes Travelling

I can still remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It was my second solo trip.

I’d flown into Geneva, taken the train into the city, and now I just needed to find my hotel.

Simple enough.

Except as I stepped out of the station, everything looked different to how I’d imagined it. The neat route I’d memorised on Google Maps didn’t match the reality in front of me. Roads were closed, pavements diverted, and the large square I was standing in seemed to lead everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Real life, I quickly remembered, rarely looks as tidy as it does on a screen.

I walked around that square once.

Then again.

Then a third time.

And that’s when the familiar thought crept in:

What on earth am I doing here?

Geneva is a busy, purposeful city. People were striding past with places to be and plans to follow, and suddenly I felt very small and very out of place.

I could feel that old feeling rising — the one that whispers doubt, second-guesses decisions, and makes you question whether you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.

My confidence dipped. My self-belief wobbled.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I walked into a pharmacy.

Not exactly a tourist help desk, but I figured kindness would be more likely there than impatience. And I was right.

Twenty minutes later, directions in hand, I walked into my hotel reception feeling about ten feet tall.

It was such a small moment.

But it felt huge.

Because I’d worked it out.

On my own.

Those few days in Geneva brought me back to myself.

There were lots of firsts:

First time arriving alone

First time eating alone in a new country

First time navigating a new city alone

And while each one felt uncomfortable, something interesting happened.

The fear didn’t disappear — but it softened.

The doubt didn’t vanish — but it quietened.

And with every small success, I felt a little more like me again.

Not a braver version.

Not a different version.

Just a more trusting one.

Since then, I’ve met so many solo travellers — some seasoned, some just starting out — and they all say the same thing in their own way:

You don’t suddenly feel ready.

You feel ready after you begin.

Solo travel didn’t make me fearless.

It taught me how to trust myself again.

And sometimes, that’s the most important journey of all.

If any of this resonates, I’ve started sharing more of my travel experiences and reflections over on Instagram, if you’d like to follow along.