Lettie Goes Travelling

This might sound counterintuitive, but when I first started travelling on my own, I did everything on my own.

I planned it all.

Transport, hotels, routes, timings, meals.

Not because I was overflowing with confidence — but because I didn’t really know there was another way.

I’d seen organised solo travel companies advertised. The algorithm is very good like that.

But if I’m being honest, back then I mentally filed them under “sad bastard holidays”.

I wasn’t ready to see myself that way — and those blinkers stopped me seeing the benefits.

So I was a solo traveller and a solo planner.

Planning as protection

If you’ve read my earlier blogs, you’ll know I started by travelling to visit friends and family.

A built-in safety net.

So when I eventually started travelling “properly” on my own, I felt like I had to do it entirely alone — planning included. Almost as if asking for help would somehow undermine the achievement.

One of my first solo outings was a day trip to Lille on the Eurostar to visit the Christmas market.

I had it mapped to within an inch of its life:

where I’d have breakfast

where I’d eat lunch

where I’d eat dinner

the exact walking route between stalls

It was efficient.

It was safe.

And yes — I had a good day (despite the weather being appalling).

But there was no discovery.

No wandering.

No chance encounters.

It was less a day trip and more a logistical exercise.

A box ticked.

Brussels followed — slightly looser, but still structured. I was still reluctant to “go native” or see where the day might take me.

What changed

Fast forward a couple of years and my city breaks look very different.

I rarely have a full itinerary now.

Just a few headline places I’d like to see.

I almost always book:

a walking tour on the first day, to get my bearings and local tips

one experience — a hike, a cooking class, a boat trip

That’s it.

The rest I leave open.

I’ve learned to arrive somewhere on my own, feel the atmosphere, read my own energy — and respond accordingly.

Some days I throw myself into everything.

Other days I quietly retreat.

That confidence didn’t arrive overnight.

It came from exposure. From trial and error. From getting things wrong and learning not to repeat them — most of the time.

(Although I’ve learned never to say never. Five years from now I may feel very differently.)

Rewriting the story I told myself

Somewhere along the way, my view of organised travel changed too.

Solo travel companies aren’t “sad”.

They’re smart.

The industry has woken up to the fact that solo travellers are a growing, discerning group.

We know what we want.

We know what we don’t.

And we’re not interested in being shoehorned into experiences that don’t suit us.

Knowing myself better means I can now be quite specific in what I ask for — whether that’s a weekend break, a longer trip, or a one-off experience.

And suddenly, travel becomes something else entirely.

Not rigid.

Not lonely.

Not performative.

But intentional

I share more reflections like this, alongside my travels, over on Instagram.

If you’d like to follow along, you’ll find me at @lettiegoestravelling ✈️