Cliches surrounding solo travel seem abundant at the moment, yet everyone I speak to about solo travelling says the same thing: ‘I wish I could do that”. Travel, especially at a time that is financially fragile for most people, appears as a far away desire that doesn’t go further than instagram or TikTok influencers and wishing that their reality could become our own. However, I want to propose a different perspective, within the budgeting priorities of disposable income, that acknowledges the privilege of travelling, but also emphasises personal benefits and remedies for the same era that has most young adults some sort of skint.
Things can be depressing. The news, chemicals in your body meeting plastics in your food and water. People are suffering and divided. A grey loneliness is desperately trying to tap out to spring, but those with stakes in this grey loneliness clearly want it to stay. And, whilst running away from your problems isn’t the answer, shifting perspectives can be. And I do this by solo travelling.
My final semester has been a cycle of waking up to panic and conflict, trying to push it out of the way to to worry about my dissertation instead, overwhelm, panic attacks, then ‘pulling myself together’ before a 6pm shift. In February this came to a head, and instead of tapping out completely, I needed a circuit breaker. Whilst I felt my mental health isolate me, Valentine’s Day was also coming up, emphasising comparisons and negative echo chambers. So I booked a budget flight to Amsterdam. My intentions for the trip were to remember how well I can look after myself on my own, to wake up every morning with excitement to explore, and to explore everything and only the things that I was genuinely excited by.
Day 1 was really successful for getting my bearings and dealing with travel anxiety, with amazing moments that sounded like a lot of variations of “wow I’m actually doing this”. Despite the highlights from my notes app, the evening was a struggle. I was a bit thrown by couples in the hostel room and slightly hostile ‘boys trips’, which was an unfortunate side effect of a budget trip, and although there was nothing that made me feel actively unsafe, after a high anxiety day, this brought back some of the negativity I’d been wanting to work through on the trip. My Lock Screen during the trip had a quote stating ‘you have to act differently if you want different outcomes’, so despite feeling like I had to projectile vomit when I thought about going to my room, I wanted to still enjoy my evening in a way that settled my stomach. A recommendation from my cousin was the Panthe cinemas, which initially was perfect, but the film I wanted to see (Avatar) was notoriously long and the walk back was through the red light district at midnight. That did nothing for the stomach. But what did, was a walk around the centre, getting my bearings and eating Frites. Problem very much solved, bearings very much gotten, and everyone in my room was asleep by the time I got back.
I felt ridiculously cringey looking for a photo booth I’d seen on TikTok in the Hoxton Hotel, and when I got there the queue was full of couples. Today was 14/02, fucking Valentine’s Day. The whole idea of this trip was to really look after myself and remember my confidence doing it, so I put Drew Afualo’s podcast on through my headphones and tried to think positive thoughts, shifting my annoyance from projecting on the couples, to waiting my turn and seeing some beautiful people very clearly in love. In the spirit of this love I took myself out for more tiktok bucket list spots, which were all over capacity except Pluk. And thank God. This was decorated so beautifully for valentines, with messages of self love on the mirror as you enter. I had a cute heart fluttery moment of synchronicity and feeling like I was exactly where I was supposed to be before the best Eggs Hollandaise of my life and heading for a Canal Boat tour.
Those dam boat guys. An excellent last minute booking during the issue last night. Here I got to see much more of Amsterdam than I could on foot, learned some really cool history, and met the kind of people I’d been worried I wouldn’t meet after my initial anxiety about the hostel. The vibe was just right and the sun was out. We talked the whole way round and kept meeting up after the tour, which made a lot of the sightseeing more social, and I took away tonnes of their suggestions and everything they couldn’t take back to England for legal reasons, which appeared to be a bit of a tradition, especially within the hostel.
My main valentines present to myself was going to see the National Opera and Ballet perform Messa de Requiem as an opera AND ballet. This was a perfect evening for a self- valentines, where I felt incredibly boujie whilst indulging my dramatic nature and catholic upbringing. Walking back, the chorus of Peng Black Girls felt really important:
“I think I need some time away
I took a little time, I pray
We gon be alright, okay, alright, okay, alright, okay”
I woke up with a level of confidence and power that I hadn’t felt on a very long time. Alina Baraz’s ‘To Me’ played whilst I was walking to the Rijks Museum, where I was very grateful that’s I’d got a last minute tour as I saw the size of it. I was really glad I’d met some friends on the canal boat tour when we went through the Red Light district, and we ended up in a Gay Bar called Prik. The Black Lychee cocktail absolutely banged, as did the hot pink blanket they gave us to sit outside. When I got back to the hostel I realised that I was by no means ready to leave tomorrow, and when I saw that the cost of changing my flight and staying an extra night in the hostel was the same amount of money as just over half of my shift at work, I moved some things around and booked another day. This completely shifted my perspective and left me feeling so much gratitude for the life that I had thought I was holidaying away from, without that, I couldn’t have this. And this pay-off was absolutely worth it.
My final full day was an emotional mixed bag. I started off early, going to the appropriately-hyped Kokiemakerj I’d seen on TikTok with my friends from the tour, and then was left to my own devices with an extra day I hadn’t planned or budgeted for. The sex museum was on my list and was the cheapest and closest, so that was my next stop. I found it really busy, underwhelming, and small, although still pretty interesting. As liberal as I consider myself to be, I was on edge looking at pornographic exhibits with so many other people, and it was a bit on the bad-trippy side with animatronics that jump out at you (not scary but more surprising) which included a woman in the red light district, and a older male flasher in the busiest part of the museum. The flasher animatronic massively set me off, I was stuck between people and couldn’t get away from the exhibit. I froze and was freaking out, but was more worried about drawing attention from a guy who seemed to find it really funny, and it was a miracle that he left with his testicles intact, and myself, without being in cuffs.
I found solace in an Irish pub, then a gorgeous bar called Tales and Spirits. Although this was on the expensive end of the spectrum, you can see each level of value added to the experience - genuine and personalised interactions, seating, cocktails, and the best Bittenballen I’ve tried on the whole trip. This was taken further by meeting the chef afterwards and the story of his family’s bittenballen recipe. I celebrated the last night, got drunk and chatted shit with strangers, leaving with a recommendation list for places all across the world and the phone number of a message therapist for the MBA.
I was really sad to leave; I had an early check out, final green goodbye to Amsterdam and trip through centraal. This felt like a definite full-stop end to the trip, even though I really didn’t want to leave. I was soothed by Joe and the juice and a banging lunch in an airport which felt sad but not too stressful. I was feeling awful at the thought of returning to my mess, but I have to remember that this is the mess that allowed me the resources, ideas and confidence to do this trip in the first place. I was immediately planning my next step, which involves a lot of hard work. Circuit breakers are great but can’t last forever. But my conclusion ties in well with the title, I felt like I’d found bits of myself that had got a bit overlooked and dormant, whilst Amsterdam had swept the cobwebs away a little bit. Cliches are only as cringey or dramatic as you make them. I’m having fun finding my soul, and a significant part was found in Amsterdam.
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