I love traveling on my own.

I can change plans the last minute (if I happen to have any), I can spend the whole afternoon lazing on a seashore or walking down the shopping gallery (that’s right, just an innocent walk around). Or anything else basically, and no one is going to nag about it. The freedom you have is great.

Despite this whole solo thing you keep meeting new people obviously, and it’s somehow easier to get to “melt with locals” when you’re by yourself. But those folks are quite often like a tide, as fast as they come they’re gone again. That’s only natural and you should not be upset by that – it’s your everyday reality after all.

Solo travel helps you to grow, without a doubt. You become much more creative by solving problems you would never think might come up. But there they are, out of the blue, and you have no other choice but make things work. The feeling of accomplishment afterwards is very rewarding. You’ve earned it. You build your self confidence. You can enjoy your trip to the bits without getting distracted by anyone else, if you wish so.

But.

Sometimes, you don’t really wish “not to get distracted”. From time to time, you realize being on the road alone totally sucks.

For the first time, I’ve got to this conclusion on a warm summer night of June, 2014. I was sitting on the top of the hill overlooking Barcelona, just in front of the National Art Museum of Catalonia. There are those beautiful stairs surrounded by an ambient sound of little waterfalls, which look just like they were made of a liquid gold thanks to the underwater lights. The place felt stunning that night, with most of the night sky being clear, with some lightning and thunders in the distance. Enlightened city I would swear I could feel pulsing with energy was lying by my feet, plus the magic fountain on the bottom of the stairs, illuminated by the rainbow-like spectre of colours, accopmanied by somewhat intense music. Intense as Hanz Zimmer soundtrack, the kind of music that makes your vessels spread wider.

The view was breathtaking.

Countless people have passed the stone bench I was resting on, mostly groups of loudly laughing, tipsy tourists, or couples, holding hands, affectionately snuggling up to each other.

I felt so damn alone.

Don’t get me wrong, till now I’m deeply in love with that evening, I enjoyed the atmosphere nevertheless and I’m happy I had the opportunity to be there. But you know, I wish I’ve had someone there with me, someone to share the moment with. Someone I can tell in ten, twenty years “Hey, do you remember that amazing night we were chilling above Barcelona?”..

That’s not gonna happen.

I still do appreciate traveling on my own, discovering new places and getting lost in the least convenient situations, but I want you to know it’s not always sweet and sugar. But don’t panic. It’s okay to have these moments of loneliness. It will make you appreciate the companionship once you decide the solo approach is not the only way.