Lettie Goes Travelling

For a long time, I thought I’d missed my chance.

Not in a dramatic way — just in that quiet, niggling way that sits at the back of your mind. The kind that whispers “people your age don’t really start over” or “you’ve left it a bit late now.”

For nearly 28 years, I watched other people go away on holidays, talk about their trips, share their photos — while I spent my annual leave at home, in the garden. At the time, it was just how life was. You get on with things. You adapt. You don’t question it too much.

But when I finally had the opportunity to travel again, I realised something I hadn’t expected.

I wasn’t excited — I was resentful.

Resentful of the time I felt I’d lost.

Resentful of the experiences I hadn’t had.

Resentful that it had taken me so long to get back to myself.

Perfectly understandable emotions.

Just not very helpful ones.

So I had a quiet word with myself, and decided to start again. Slowly. Carefully. One step at a time…

And actually, that approach mirrored my working life too.

Over the years I’ve shifted industries more than once. I’ve had people tell me I’d probably fail, that it was too late, too risky, too much of a leap. If anything, that only strengthened my resolve. Not to prove them wrong — but to prove to myself that I could adapt.

I took that same mindset into travel.

Not to push boundaries for the sake of it, but to gently stretch what I thought I was capable of.

Two destinations really stand out.

The first was the Caribbean.

You know the image — couples walking hand in hand on the beach at sunset, all very honeymoon-esque. Not exactly the obvious choice for a solo traveller.

But I went.

And I had the most incredible time. A helicopter transfer, beautiful beaches, great food, wellness activities, and a resort that genuinely catered for solo travellers. No awkwardness. No pity. Just people who had also chosen to travel on their own terms.

I’m still in touch with some of them now.

The second was Paris.

A place I’d always been told I’d go “one day”. A city wrapped up in romance and expectations. But I didn’t go for candlelit dinners or river cruises. I went for the Moulin Rouge, long afternoons in the Louvre, and very good food.

And yes — it took me a while to do it. I listened to doubts longer than I should have. Until one day I realised the only thing holding me back was me.

That was a turning point.

Because the truth is, I didn’t miss out during those years I wasn’t travelling.

I was building life experience.

Experience that made me calmer.

More confident.

More decisive.

And far more capable of enjoying travel in a way that suited me.

So if you’re wondering whether you’ve left it too late — whether the moment has passed — I don’t believe that for a second.

Chances are, you’re more ready than you think.

If any of this resonates, I share more of my travel experiences over on Instagram at @lettiegoestravelling.