She Travels is more than a collection of travel stories—it’s a testament to how stepping into the unknown inevitably creates powerful transformation, ignites personal growth and brings us closer to who we truly are.
Through the inspiring, real-life journeys of women navigating change, healing old wounds, and embracing their truth, this book reveals how travel opens the heart, shifts perspectives, and awakens the soul.
Part One shares the author’s own story—how she left behind a familiar life to embrace a nomadic lifestyle of travelling the world. Through raw and deeply personal reflections, she reveals how travel became a catalyst for healing, spiritual awakening and profound transformation.
Part Two features the stories of ten courageous women, each of whom underwent life-altering shifts through travel—often in ways they never anticipated.
She Travels is a call for women to break free from fear, conditioning, and limitation—to embrace uncertainty, trust their inner guidance, and reclaim their personal power through meaningful, transformative journeys.
She Travels is more than a collection of travel stories—it’s a testament to how stepping into the unknown inevitably creates powerful transformation, ignites personal growth and brings us closer to who we truly are.
Through the inspiring, real-life journeys of women navigating change, healing old wounds, and embracing their truth, this book reveals how travel opens the heart, shifts perspectives, and awakens the soul.
Part One shares the author’s own story—how she left behind a familiar life to embrace a nomadic lifestyle of travelling the world. Through raw and deeply personal reflections, she reveals how travel became a catalyst for healing, spiritual awakening and profound transformation.
Part Two features the stories of ten courageous women, each of whom underwent life-altering shifts through travel—often in ways they never anticipated.
She Travels is a call for women to break free from fear, conditioning, and limitation—to embrace uncertainty, trust their inner guidance, and reclaim their personal power through meaningful, transformative journeys.
I know, I know—you’re eager to dive into the exciting part about the transformative journeys. But before we do, we need to address the many myths and misconceptions around solo travel for women, especially those that hold us back from taking the leap. Let’s shine a spotlight on the elephant you may not realize is in the room and begin dispelling those fears and limitations.
First, why don’t we start by looking at one of the most significant fears we face when considering solo travel: fear of the unknown. In fact, this powerful fear extends beyond travel and impacts many aspects of our lives. It traps us in our comfort zone, holding us back from growing, evolving, and, at times, even from truly living.
As we think about traveling, especially solo, some questions may arise. Will I enjoy it? Will I be comfortable? Is it safe? Will I like the food? Will I be able to communicate in my language? Will I know what to do if something unexpected happens? These doubts may feel like roadblocks, but it’s the journey itself that holds the answers—unfolding with each courageous step and carrying the keys to adventure, growth, and self-discovery.
From where I sit, the unknown is absolutely delicious. It is filled with wonder, discovery, growth, learning, magic, freedom, surrender, and delightful surprises—each one a treasure to be savored. It is where we shed our fears, expand our horizons, and grow into a better version of ourselves.
Before we can step into the unknown, we must first let go of the need to control. After all, we can only control our actions, reactions, attitudes, intentions, and the way we see and perceive the world around us. We can never control the outcomes. Planes can be delayed, weather can shift unexpectedly, people can react in ways we never anticipated, financial markets can swing from bear to bull in the blink of an eye, and our bodies can experience sudden drops in energy. If we try to fight against this natural ebb and flow of life, we will only wear ourselves out.
One vivid example of this unpredictability occurred when I was trying to return to Canada from Bali in March 2020, just as the world news was spreading fear and panic about COVID-19. I had no idea whether I would even make it back, let alone how or through what route. New travel restrictions were constantly being announced, and airports were closing one by one. Prices were inconsistent, adding to my confusion and uncertainty.
After navigating a maze of shifting possibilities, I finally booked a ticket that took me through Taipei—by then the only transit airport still operational in Asia that allowed me to travel to North America. From there, I would enter Canada through Vancouver, then continue to Montreal, my final destination.
Soon after I arrived in Taipei, I heard an announcement over the intercom: due to the COVID-19 situation, the airport would close at midnight, and all flights departing after that time would be canceled. What?! Did I hear that correctly? The announcement came on again after a few minutes and yes, I had heard right. I quickly checked my boarding pass—my plane was leaving at 11:55 p.m.! If my plane had been scheduled just five minutes later, I would have been delayed in Taipei until the travel conditions evolved.
My choice was to go with the flow from the get-go, trusting that everything would unfold as it was meant to—even if I had gotten stuck in Taipei after all. Who knows? It might have been a blessing in disguise, a new adventure, or at worst, a learning experience. And I know that no matter what had happened, I would have made the best of it.
Over time, as we navigate our travels, surrendering and trusting the process becomes easier. We learn to stop resisting what is, to embrace the impermanence of life, and to stop wasting energy on what we can’t control. And that in itself is a key to freedom. The challenges we may be faced with help us grow and evolve, strengthen our confidence, and sometimes even bring healing. There is always a gift waiting to be discovered.
Traveling is one of the most impactful ways to tame and embrace the unknown. Once we step out of the perceived safety of our comfort zone, the beneficial effects ripple into our daily lives, making everything feel lighter, easier, and more enjoyable.
Now that we’ve addressed that fear, let’s move on to the many myths that hold us back from taking the leap and exploring the world on our own.
Myth #1: It’s lonely
A common myth about solo travel is that it’s lonely and isolating. Let me tell you, when you go at it alone, the world opens up in ways you could never imagine. You’re far more likely to experience profound connections with strangers, including meaningful conversations and heartfelt moments.
One such encounter came during my time in Varkala, a town in the southwestern state of Kerala, India. I had gone on a paddleboarding trip through the mangroves, which wrapped up as the sun was beginning to set. I was very hungry (almost hangry!) from the strenuous exercise, and my mouth was watering at the thought of a flavorful chana masala (Indian chickpea curry). I knew exactly where I was going to get it, too: at Mamma Champos, one of my favorite local restaurants.
After a short ride on my scooter, I arrived to find the place completely full. My disappointment must have shown on my face, because the young host at the entrance kindly asked me to wait while he checked if any tables were close to finishing.
As he made his way through the restaurant, two women waved him over, and he immediately rushed to them. They glanced at me as they spoke. After their conversation, the host returned and said, “These two women are offering to share their table with you.”
Wow, what a fantastic turn of events! I was starving, and even from a distance they seemed like friendly company, so I accepted without hesitation. The young man escorted me to their table, where I was greeted with warm smiles. As I sat down, I thanked the two women for their generous invitation, and we immediately connected as if we had known each other for years.
My tablemates introduced themselves as Rachel, originally from Switzerland, and Adeline, originally from France. The two had met on a diving tour in Egypt more than a decade ago and had gone on to co-own a small resort on Gili Air, an Indonesian island located right next to Bali. They had recently sold the resort and set out to travel through India —a place they’d both dreamed of exploring—while making space for whatever might emerge as their next life project.
It didn’t take long to discover all we had in common: our shared passion for travel, the spiritual places we had visited around the world and the reasons we were drawn there, and the profound experiences that had shaped our lives so far. And then, naturally, we went on to save the world! What a memorable evening it had been—filled with rich stories and deep fulfilling conversation. And of course, the chana masala was out of this world!
Toward the end of our meal, Rachel and Adeline mentioned they were looking for a new guesthouse as they were not satisfied with their current one. I messaged the host of mine to check for availability, and as life would have it, there was one last room left! The next morning, my new friends came to see it and decided to stay a few days. Naturally, we shared more meals together—and I’m still in touch with them to this day. All because I showed up on my own at a packed restaurant.
Times like these remind me of the magic that unfolds when you embrace the unexpected and let life guide you. More often than not, these moments happen when you’re solo!
Another time, I returned to Cairo, Egypt, after spending some time on the Sinai Peninsula. I was excited to visit the Black and White Deserts, located a few hours southwest of the city, so before arriving I inquired with a guide about arranging a tour. He suggested gathering a small group of four people—an ideal number to keep the costs reasonable and maintain an easily manageable group size while ensuring a personalized, high-quality experience.
I booked myself a private room at the centrally located Holy Sheet Hostel. This gave me the privacy I needed for my scheduled remote client sessions as well as the opportunity to meet fellow travelers. The following morning, I ate my breakfast in the common area, hoping to meet some companions for my desert adventure.
I was in luck. Two young men and a young woman were sitting nearby, and we struck up a conversation. I learned they had just arrived from Brazil, and I told them about my plan to go to the Black and White Deserts.
“Oh, we were planning to explore Cairo first and go to the desert in a few days,” said one of the men.
“Why don’t you join me tomorrow for the desert trip and visit Cairo afterward?” I replied, taking a chance they just might say yes. I shared the details the tour guide had given me, and after discussing among themselves, they agreed! Just like that, I found myself with new travel companions. Our trip to the deserts was an unforgettable adventure, filled with great connections with my travel companions and with the otherworldly landscapes.
There’s no shortage of opportunities to connect with others, so long as you remain open and take some initiative. Whether it’s joining a class, going on a group excursion, or simply striking up a conversation with the person sitting next to you in a café, connection is always within reach.
And even in the moments when you’re alone, whether by choice or circumstance, you don’t have to be lonely. I’ve come to need those moments in my own company— times to reflect, reconnect with myself, and process the inner work taking place.
Myth # 2: It’s unsafe
While safety is a valid concern when traveling, choosing destinations with lower risks and allowing ourselves to be guided by our intuition often ensures there’s little to worry about.
While governmental travel advisories may recommend exercising caution in certain areas, the reality on the ground often tells a different story. When I was visiting the Sinai Peninsula, a few people back home were concerned about me. They worried about the recent heightened tensions in neighboring countries, and about the security checkpoints that had popped up everywhere as a result. However, far from being a sign of danger, these checkpoints served to protect everyone, including tourists. As long as I steered clear of certain border areas, I felt I could very well be safer there than in many large cities in Europe or the Americas.
People are also generally more trustworthy than we might expect. While visiting Sri Lanka, I rode a bus from Weligama to Colombo and asked the driver to let me know when we were approaching the Colombo Fort. With only a small backpack and a purse with me, I was feeling light and carefree. The driver had a helper who was in charge of tickets, and when we neared my stop, he came to me and said, “It’s here,” having apparently just remembered he was supposed to inform me. He grabbed my arm quickly and rushed me off the bus.
As I was walking down the street, I stopped in a small shop to buy some water. When I reached for my purse, I noticed it was not across my body as it usually was. My heart skipped a beat. In the rush to get off, I had left it on my seat! I quickly gave the water back and ran after the bus, overwhelmed by a sense of panic. Inside my purse were my wallet, with both cash and credit cards, as well as my cell phone. Thankfully, my passport was with a friend in Colombo. The bus terminal was not far from my stop, so I hoped to be able to catch my bus there.
The traffic was chaotic, and I struggled to make progress. Just then, a tuk-tuk driver pulled up and offered me a ride. “I can’t pay you,” I told him, “My purse is gone. I have no money.”
Without hesitation, the driver said, “Come, come! I will help you.” I hopped in, and we raced between the cars toward the bus terminal. The station was a madhouse, with buses coming and going in every direction, each one looking the same as the next. We split up, each taking a row of buses to check which ones had come from Weligama. After about thirty minutes of searching, the tuk-tuk driver took me to the office and asked if anyone had found a purse. No luck.
I was starting to get discouraged, but then came a glimmer of hope. The man in the office explained that some drivers, after dropping off passengers in the main area, parked on a side street to rest before starting their next journey. We went down the back road and sure enough, there they were: the driver and his assistant, standing on a street corner, my purse slung over the assistant’s shoulder. They spotted me from a distance and began waving excitedly. I ran toward them, and they proudly handed over my purse. Inside, everything was still intact: the wallet, my money, my cards, and even my phone.
What an incredible blessing! Everything had turned out for the best: I was safe, and my purse and its contents were safe. Amid the perceived chaos, there was a surprising order, along with much honesty, security, and genuine caring. There are many angels on this planet, and they will appear to us when we truly believe in them.
That’s not to say that we should be careless or imprudent—especially when it comes to potentially dangerous areas, particularly at night. However, I’ve come to realize that safety is an inside job. By healing past trauma, releasing fear, and letting go of old conditioning, we cultivate a deep sense of security within ourselves. This inner safety then reflects outwards, allowing us to stay present and letting our intuition guide us in discerning what and who we can trust. Staying alert and grounded is always wise, whether we’re traveling or simply going about our daily lives at home.
Myth #3: It’s risky for your health
You have just as much chance of getting sick at home as you do while traveling. Sure, every destination comes with its own risks—you might catch turista in Mexico or Bali belly in Bali—but they also offer their own cures. And if something more serious were to happen, most places offer excellent healthcare options, whether through local natural healing or traditional medicine, and often at a fraction of the cost.
In fact, with highly effective natural remedies and holistic treatments available across the planet, an increasing number of people are now traveling to improve their overall health and well-being. This phenomenon is called wellness tourism and is often focused on preventive care such as detox programs, spa therapies, or yoga and meditation retreats.
There is also a whole industry around healthcare travel, known as medical tourism, which has become a new global trend. This focuses on specific medical treatments or surgeries such as orthopedic procedures, cosmetic surgeries, dental care, or fertility treatments. People go this route because they can receive high-quality care for lower costs and often quicker access than they would at home.
I have seen firsthand the effective health care available even in distant corners of the world. When my sister France came to visit me in Bali, she slipped on a wet sidewalk and sprained her knee. Upon hearing about her injury, the owner of the villa we were staying in offered to take us to see a local healer. We arrived at an open outdoor space in front of the healer’s house, where he was busy helping a man that had dislocated his elbow in a scooter accident. We watched as he put the elbow back into place with one swift yank, the young man letting out an ear-splitting scream. Moments later, the smiling young man was walking off good as new, his hands held together in the prayer position in an expression of gratitude for the healing he had just received.
As you can imagine, France was shaking in her boots when her turn came up. The medicine man started by touching her knee at specific pressure points, then yanked it from side to side as she grimaced. Within a few moments, the pain subsided, and she was walking normally the next day. It may not have been a traditional approach, but it worked!
Another time in Bali, I woke up one morning to find a big rash on the tops of my feet. I tried applying the gel from an aloe vera plant to relieve it, but to no avail. After a few days of discomfort, I decided to visit a local dermatologist. He had a high-tech scanning device that he used on the tops of my feet, after which a magnified image of my skin appeared on his computer screen. I had never seen anything this advanced and precise anywhere else. He mumbled a Latin term as he observed the enlarged photo, then prescribed a steroid- and cortisone-free cream, respecting my gentle request. It was important for me to speak up for what felt right for my body. The consultation and the cream cost me no more than the equivalent of twenty US dollars. Within just two days, the rash completely disappeared and never returned.
Whenever I’ve needed care—indigestion, a wound from a scooter accident, some other type of physical discomfort—I’ve always relied on the wisdom of the locals to find an effective and natural remedy. An advantage of this trust is that I don’t have to pack and carry an arsenal of personal remedies everywhere I go “just in case.” This allows me to travel light while also helping me discover new and sometimes more effective ways of caring for my health.
Ultimately, prioritizing preventive care can help support our health while traveling—like eating a balanced diet, moving our body regularly, getting enough rest, and practicing meditation and yoga. These habits, practiced consistently, are total game-changers.
Myth #4: It’s expensive
Not necessarily! It all depends on where we go, when we travel, and how we choose to experience it. Travel doesn’t have to mean luxury.
Many countries in Asia, Africa, Central and South America, and parts of Eastern Europe offer great value for money. And if we’re open to traveling in the off-season, even destinations known for being pricey can become surprisingly affordable.
In most of the places I’ve visited, there were plenty of lower-cost options for accommodation, food, transportation, clothing, and even activities. With a bit of research, or by simply exploring and asking around, we can find choices that are well within reach. This is especially true when immersing ourselves in the local life by staying in guesthouses or homestays, enjoying traditional meals, and taking part in cultural experiences.
Regional low-cost airlines, trains, taxis, and buses make it easy to travel from place to place without breaking the bank. And for more freedom and flexibility, why not rent a scooter or bicycle? It’s a wonderful way to explore at your own pace, stop whenever and wherever you want, and enjoy the exhilarating sensation of the wind in your hair!
If the travel bug has bitten you and you’re unsure how to afford it, there are some creative ways to fund your journey such as working remotely, volunteering in exchange for room and board, house or pet sitting, or travel hacking with points. And when calculating your true travel costs, be sure to deduct the everyday variable expenses from home that you’re saving on, such as food, gas, utilities, and entertainment.
Money can often feel like the reason we can’t travel—but more often than not, it comes down to priorities and the choices we make. When we shift our perspective and see travel not as a luxury or an expense, but as an investment in our personal growth and well-being, a whole new world opens up—one filled with discovery, connection, and transformation.
Myth #5: I’m too old
There's a common misconception that solo travel is only for the young, and that older adults —particularly women over fifty —are somehow unfit for such journeys. I’ve personally received many questions and comments reflecting this belief, whether the person realizes it or not. I always make sure not to take these personally as I know they speak more about the person’s perceptions than about me.
As I’m writing these lines, I’ve been on this earth for sixty-four years, and the idea of being “too old” simply doesn’t enter my mind—for travel, or for anything else. I may choose to refrain from certain activities because they don’t interest me, I don’t feel the calling, or some other reason, but never because of my age.
I learned to snowboard at forty-one and to surf at fifty-four. I changed careers at thirty-nine and again at fifty. In my early forties, I fell in love with a woman for the first time. I dyed a purple streak in my hair at sixty-one. I still dance on podiums and speaker boxes. I often eat with my hands, and to this day, I still manage to stain my face and clothes when I eat.
Since I started traveling solo in my fifties, I’ve slept on airport benches, among remote tribes, in hostels and tents, and under the stars as well as at both basic and luxury hotels. I’ve jumped off cliffs into the water, enjoyed a coffee as the only woman at a local café in a Muslim country, and woken up at 2:00 a.m. to ride a scooter for two hours so I could climb a volcano at sunrise.
I have to admit, I’ve had a great role model for following your heart at any age: my mother remarried for the fourth time at age eighty-one!
Society has conditioned us into believing that after a certain age, we start to decline and we’re no longer “good” for certain things. Anyone who challenges this narrative is subject to judgment. But age is just a number—we may be fifty-five and have more energy, vitality, and curiosity than someone half our age. And when we allow others to place limits on us, we risk missing out on opportunities for growth, and on some of life’s most meaningful experiences. Some of the most common regrets of the dying include not taking enough risks, not stepping outside their comfort zone, not traveling enough, and worrying too much about what others think.
So, why let outdated beliefs hold us back from seizing the infinite possibilities? You get to decide when you’re “too old”—and the answer should be never.
Myth #6: It’s selfish and irresponsible
I remember announcing my first solo trip, a month-long excursion to Vietnam, and someone saying, “You’re going to leave your children for a full month? Don’t you think that’s a bit selfish and even irresponsible?”
For context, my kids were well into their teenage years at the time—and yes, they had a present father, too.
Some may think that traveling for extended periods of time means abandoning our responsibilities. But in reality, believing that we are the only ones who can fulfill these roles, that things will fall apart without us, can be control in disguise. Our constant involvement may be preventing someone else from stepping up in our absence or from becoming more responsible and autonomous. In a way, thinking that we must always be present for everything to function properly can be more self-focused or rooted in a need to feel indispensable.
And what about the responsibility we have toward our own growth? Isn’t evolving, challenging ourselves, and becoming the best version of who we are important too? Traveling, especially solo, is an opportunity to become more responsible in a different way. Navigating various cultures and environments and handling unexpected events as they arise teach us adaptability, resilience, accountability, and self-reliance. These skills benefit not only us but also everyone we encounter—both during our travels and once we return home.
It can be hard to look past the judgments we receive from the people around us. Remember, people often judge those who think or act in ways that differ from them. If we succumb to the pressure to conform, then how will we ever fully embrace and express who we truly are?
If we pay attention, we can see that what other people think of us is shaped by their own perceptions—not by who we truly are. But what about what we think about ourselves? When someone else's judgment affects us, it's often because a part of us already has the same doubts or struggles with the same thing. The other person simply acts as a mirror. So, if we find that the opinions of others are holding us back from taking the leap, the key is to stop judging ourselves for wanting to have this transformational travel experience. We have to give ourselves permission to desire and act in true alignment with our soul, free from the need for anyone’s approval.
Just because we leave others behind to travel solo doesn’t mean we’re being selfish. In fact, when we return, we’re likely to be a better version of ourselves, which benefits everyone around us. And along the way, there are plenty of opportunities to be generous, compassionate, and considerate toward others.
Myth #7: It requires too much planning
Much of the available travel advice emphasizes the importance of planning ahead. And sure, if your time is limited, or if you’re on a sightseeing sprint, this approach can be practical. But especially when the intention is personal growth and transformation, I’ve found that letting go of the plan and allowing the journey to unfold organically often leads to the most meaningful experiences.
For one, I almost always buy a one-way ticket to my destination. This gives me the freedom to stay as long as I feel called to and leave when I feel complete. There’s no rigid timeline dictating my journey, just an open opportunity to go with the flow.
For me, travel is a dance between two forces: a call toward a new destination and a call away from where I’ve been. Being fully present to both, without resistance, allows for a smoother transition between places and opens the door to deeper experiences, unexpected discoveries, and a true sense of freedom.
The call toward a location can manifest in different ways, but for me it always begins with a nudge. I might be talking with a friend or stranger and be captured by their description of a place they’ve traveled to or an experience they’ve had. I might be doing an online search for conscious communities—groups of individuals who prioritize mindfulness, self-awareness, holistic health, spirituality, collaboration, and personal growth—and find one that feels just right. I might receive a download from the Universe; suddenly I’m thinking about and feeling a place, and my curiosity is piqued. I might ask “where to next” while in meditation, and the answer is simply revealed.
The deciding factor on whether I go somewhere is how the thought of the destination makes me feel. When it’s the right place, something lights up inside me. I get excited. A variety of symptoms might show up, or a combination of them. My heart pounds. I can’t wipe the smile off my face. I get shivers. Sometimes tears come up, not sad tears but the kind that rise when I’m deeply moved, when I know I’m connected to my heart and in alignment with something greater. And yes, sometimes there’s a little fear mixed in—not the “yuck, I want to throw up” kind, but the one that says “yikes, I’m on the edge of transformation.”
My first visit to Bali is a perfect example of feeling a strong call toward a place. That time, it came with a twist —I turned something practical into the chance to live a dream.
About a decade ago, I wanted to add an International Coaching Federation (ICF) certification to my master’s in neuro-linguistic programming (NLP). Instead of spending one weekend a month in a Montreal classroom, I thought, Why not do an intensive somewhere inspiring in the world?
So, I visited the ICF website and asked myself, Where would I love to go for this? Bali instantly came to mind. A friend had once described it as a deeply spiritual place, full of natural beauty and home to some of the kindest people on the planet. I began searching and soon came across a Deep Transformational Coaching certification offered at the Nirarta Centre for Living Awareness in Sidemen, Bali—right in the heart of lush rice fields.
As I read through the course description and explored the venue on the host’s website, my heart was beating fast and shivers ran through my whole body. This is it, I thought. That’s where I’m going.
Egypt and Sardinia were two other strong callings—but more on those adventures in the chapters ahead.
As for leaving a place, sometimes I am not so much called to a new place as I am drawn away or pushed out from the current one by outside circumstances. When I was in Varkala, India, I was staying in an apartment on top of a retired couple’s home. The apartment was amazing, with large, brightly decorated rooms and a spacious front terrace overlooking a Hindu temple across the street. To my surprise, I quickly learned that every day, at sunrise and sunset, a voice would chant quite loudly through the speakers on each end of the block. It was a bit annoying at first, especially because it sounded like a resonating tin can screeching in my ears, but over time I got used to it and started to focus on the melody rather than the harshness of the sound.
What I didn’t know was that in three weeks’ time, the Manthara temple was hosting a ten-day celebration known for its colorful processions accompanied by traditional music. When the festival arrived, they tripled the number of speakers as well as the volume, and the music and the noise from the processions reverberated through the whole neighborhood. To say that it created a vibrant atmosphere would be an understatement. By the end of the first day, the noise had begun to wear on my nerves. There was no respite from the agitation from morning to evening, making it difficult to hold a conversation or concentrate on work, let alone to relax or to sleep. It felt like there was no escape. After three days of this cacophony, I couldn’t bear it any longer.
This was my cue to leave that apartment—not Varkala, though, as I was not done yet. I was just starting to tune into the quieter layers of the place, the ones that don’t reveal themselves right away. I moved to another spot farther away from any temple, just in case another festival came up.
Other times, the push to leave is gentler and more subtle. It’s as if the vibration tunes down. The environment or people no longer feel quite right, making me feel less compelled to stay. I might also find myself in a place, knowing that I don’t want to stay for long, but I may not have the energy to move on just yet.
While I was in Mexico, I decided to visit El Cuyo, a small quiet town on the Yucatán peninsula that a friend had recommended. Getting there was a bit of a milk run from where I was, and almost as soon as I arrived, I knew it wasn’t quite for me. It was laid-back, sure, and the beach was endless, but the wind was constant and the options for accommodation and healthy foods were limited. I didn’t feel great in this place, and the energy just didn’t land for me. Still, after the effort it took to get there, I didn’t have the drive to move right away. So, I stayed for a couple of weeks—long enough to rest and recharge.
Buying a one-way ticket allows this push-pull dance to take place. It may be slightly more expensive than buying a return ticket at times, but for me there is no price to freedom and peace of mind.
This approach works particularly well when you’re on a nomad travel journey where you’re not bound by specific dates. But what if you have a set three-week vacation? You can still benefit from some flexibility.
For example, you might plan a trip to Paris, then decide to take a train down to Lyon. Once you’re on site, you realize you want to spend the rest of your time there. If you had purchased a round-trip ticket, you would have to make your way back to Paris, which could end up being more expensive than simply booking a separate return ticket from wherever you happen to end up.
Having the freedom to choose our mode of transportation as we go instead of booking in advance also comes with many advantages. Once we’re on the ground, we may meet a local that will tell us about an unlisted transportation option we’d never find online—or, even better, offer us a ride. Sometimes we arrive somewhere and realize that traffic makes certain areas hard to navigate, and the best way to get around is by scooter or bicycle. These are the kinds of opportunities we can only discover when we’re actually in a place. When we leave room for these spontaneous decisions, we also open the door to unplanned adventures and transformational experiences.
The one-way ticket is not my only unconventional travel habit. When heading to a new destination, I usually book accommodation for one night at most. Why? Because I don’t want to lock myself into a place before I’ve had the chance to feel it out. Once I arrive, I like to explore a little and choose the surroundings that will bring me the most enjoyment.
When I arrived in Mazunte, on the southernmost part of Mexico’s Pacific coast, I had no reservation, not even for one night. My plane was landing in the morning, so I knew I had plenty of time to find a place to sleep. I was considering an AirBnB that I had spotted online, but I wanted to see it before booking and had managed to arrange a visit with the owner. However, when the taxi dropped me off in front of the place, I called the owner and learned it had gotten booked during the night. I wasn’t too disappointed, though, as the place didn’t look that great from the outside. And I still had plenty of time ahead of me.
I looked up, and right next door I saw a small two-story building with a large balcony. That looks sweet, I thought to myself. Standing outside was a woman dressed in a very colorful outfit covered by an apron, blending in perfectly with the vibrant and homey surroundings. I moved closer and asked in my basic Spanish, “Tienes habitaciones para renta?”
“Si, tengo una disponible,” she answered, gesturing for me to follow her. She led me upstairs to show me a room. It was a spacious and spotless space with a bed, dresser, table, chairs, and a kitchenette equipped with a small fridge, hot plate, pots, pans, and dishes. Everything I needed. She then took me onto the large balcony that was shared with two other rooms, each with its own seating area.
Sokoro, the kind woman who welcomed me, didn’t speak much English, but we managed to understand each other. She told me the room had no future bookings for now. I rented it for one night, then another, then another, until I decided to stay for a full month. By then, I had explored the area, fallen in love with the spot, and met my co-roomers with whom I shared the balcony. They even became friends.
Had I booked in advance, I doubt I would have found such a perfect match for me. These kinds of places are just not listed online.
I believe there is always a room available somewhere, and if it doesn’t quite fit, there are always other options. Maybe the fact that I hold this belief helps me attract circumstances that continue to reinforce it.
Traveling solo comes with its fair share of challenges, but its rewards are immense, especially when we view them through the lens of growth and evolution. Solo travel is not lonely, it’s enriching. It’s not dangerous, it sharpens our discernment. It’s not a risk to our health, it strengthens our immune system. It’s not expensive, it’s an investment in our growth. It’s not selfish or irresponsible, it’s empowering. It doesn’t require excessive planning, it teaches us to go with the flow.
The world is filled with kindness, adventure, and possibilities waiting to unfold. And we’re never too old to experience it.
By releasing our fears and limiting beliefs, we open ourselves to experiences that will not only broaden our perspective but also reconnect us with our own strength, intuition, and joy.
Embracing solo travel is not about adopting my exact habits, processes, or behaviors—we each have our own limits and desires. Rather, it’s about taking yourself one step further toward making your travel dreams come true, whatever they may be, in a way that feels right for you. And once you do, you can experience your own unique transformational journey.
She Travels by Pascale Landriault is a book about how travelling alone can reshape a woman’s life. It explores the discovery and transformation of oneself along the way. The main author shares how each destination helped her confront fears, heal old wounds, and step more firmly into her inner world as part of her conscious growth.
The book is divided into two sections: part memoir and part collective testimony. The first part includes Landriault's personal awakening through Bali’s dance floors, Sri Lanka’s shores, the Egyptian desert and a Vipassana retreat. She explains what pushed her to travel solo, what she learned, and how the world opened her up in ways she never expected. What resonates most is her voice, filled with honesty, especially when she speaks about letting go of control and embracing a truer sense of freedom.
In the second part, she gathered stories from ten women who have walked their own paths of reinvention. Their wisdom and vulnerability shine through moments such as spiritual awakening on the Camino de Santiago, rebuilding after heartbreak in the Caribbean, and reclaiming confidence on a solo cycling trip across America. Their experiences reveal that anyone, at any age or stage of life, can begin again and find strength by trekking into the unknown.
At times, the book leans more toward the spiritual than a traditional travel memoir, and its focus on surrender, intuition, and the timing of life can feel repetitive. Still, these are minor observations within a work that will speak deeply to readers who appreciate sincere, introspective writing.
She Travels is an inspiring choice for anyone who feels stuck or drawn toward something larger. It gently encourages readers to take a chance on themselves. Its message is simple and empowering: you don’t have to wait for the perfect conditions or a travel partner. Sometimes, all you need is the courage to say yes and book a one-way ticket to somewhere special.