Solo? All by myself?
Why I go on tours alone
A remake from 2014! Essentially, nothing has changed. I even survived my trip around Africa solo. 🚴♀️😉
Some people wonder: What have I done wrong that I have to travel so far all by myself—and on a bike, no fewer—as punishment? In some cultures, this earns me nothing but pity. But I grew up in a different environment. That doesn’t mean family and friends aren’t important to me. But: I don’t always have to be with them. I’m independent—in my thoughts and in my actions.
Why I Don’t Want to Wait
I’m impatient by nature and I’m pretty stubborn. (Now everyone’s probably thinking: No wonder nobody wanted to come along!) When I want to do something, I want to do it now—not wait until others have the time, the desire, or the money. As an independent person, I can just set off before everything gets postponed to “the twelfth of never.”
(Anxiety deserves its own post, by the way. Just one thing: No, I’m not afraid. I have enough experience. And if someone has bad intentions, having a companion isn’t necessarily much help.)
Freedom – my greatest motivation
I love bike touring because of the boundless freedom it offers. I don’t want to give that freedom up: riding as far as I want. Stopping whenever I want. Deciding at the last minute which route to take—without any arguments. I always travel with a tent so I can stay wherever I like. No rushing, no waiting, no having to compromise.
Communication: Traveling Alone, But Not Lonely
There’s something I sometimes miss—and which I’ve come to appreciate all the more precisely because of that: communication. It’s much more intense with locals when you’re traveling alone. The barrier to approaching someone is lower. And because there’s no one else around, I rely on conversations. Especially as a woman traveling alone, I often spark curiosity—and that opens doors to unexpected encounters and stories.
The Downside: The Drawbacks of Traveling Alone
Of course, it’s not all easy. I rarely feel lonely, but the constant responsibility for every decision can be exhausting. If something breaks, I have to fix it myself. Carrying everything, organizing, planning—it all falls on me. And yes: When I have hardly anyone to talk to for weeks, I start to feel weird. Illness hits you especially hard when you’re alone—but fortunately, I’ve never been seriously ill while on the road. Cycling is the best therapy for almost anything.
Encounters with other cyclists
They are always welcome! I enjoy riding with others for a while—and then look forward to my freedom again. It’s a nice rhythm: experiencing community, then immersing myself in silence once more.
Being alone doesn’t mean being lonely
To me, “alone” means: being at one with oneself. Being self-sufficient. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate company. But I don’t need it all the time to feel comfortable.
A Christmas Moment to Remember
October 2012, Philippines: I was on tour when the Captain of the Barangay (village chief) invited me to stay the night at the daycare center. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a big family. Months before the holidays, a little boy asked me, “What are you doing for Christmas?” I replied that I would probably be with friends in Australia. Very quietly and seriously, he said: “You can come to us, too. You’ll find all of us here.”
Sometimes it’s these little moments that show: loneliness is relative. Connection often arises where you least expect it.
With that in mind, I wish you all:
Happy days—spent with family, with friends, or simply on your own. Maybe even some time away from the internet. Because sometimes the best gift is the silence that brings us back to ourselves.
