Flying Solo

The reaction I most often get when I talk about my travel experiences is shock and awe that I travelled alone, especially being that I’m a woman. I have a lot to say on both topics independently so I’m going to focus on the "being alone" part in this post. The next installment will be about my feelings on being a travelling independent diva, and the sexual harassment I encountered around the world. The main point I want to get across in this post is that it is very easy to make friends while travelling, so you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be!

Believe it or not, I consider myself shy. I had anxiety issues as a child, and I’m often stuck inside my head. I came out of my shell a lot when I started university, but I’m still introverted and need my alone time to recharge after being in social situations. That said, I love making new connections and I like to keep busy, so I tend to be a bit of a social organizer and quickly establish a friend network whenever I go somewhere new. Travelling has helped me gain a great deal of confidence when it comes to talking to strangers and pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. It turns out that most people in the world are really nice! Additionally, most people, especially travellers, are also seeking new friendships and are extremely open to establishing a connection with another human being.

I travelled alone a few times before I left on my big trip. The first time was when I was 20 years old and spent a summer interning at the University of Bayreuth in Bavaria, Germany. I took every opportunity I had to explore more of Germany and Europe that summer. Every weekend I went to a new city, and thanks to Facebook I was able to meet up with other North Americans doing internships in different parts of Germany. Friendships were quickly formed and I ended up travelling with the same people more than once. I’m pretty sure I developed a laughing problem, and I got to see so many beautiful things that I didn’t even know existed before! I felt so free. I had very few responsibilities, and nobody knew me so I felt like I could just be myself – there were few social expectations, and few consequences.

A group of interns hanging out in Prague, 2007

The summer after that one I headed to Montreal, another place where I didn’t know anybody. Before I moved there and embarked on my Master’s training I wanted to travel somewhere new. I only had three weeks to spare, and nobody to travel with, so I booked a guided adventure tour through Costa Rica. I felt comfortable going alone since I would be in a tour group, and I already knew that I didn’t need my friends to travel with me to have fun. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Costa Rica, and when I returned to Canada, I thoroughly enjoyed moving to Montreal. All of these amazing experiences contributed to why I didn’t have many qualms about leaving Canada on my own to see more of the world after completing my Master’s.

Even though I was a bit nervous before leaving (mainly about not meeting people, and being lonely), I was not really worried that something bad was going to happen to me. Nothing ever had before. I was sad to be leaving my friends and family for such a long time, but I was definitely not as scared of leaving as everyone else in my life was. So many people told me I was crazy for going alone that I was beginning to believe it. As I took the bus from Toronto to NYC, where I started my adventure, I really pondered the idea that I was insane and just didn’t realize it. What was everyone else seeing that I wasn’t? Nonetheless, after spending a fun week in NYC with some friends, I flew to Colombia with everything I thought I would need on my back.

NYC - $1 beer?! The world is a truly wonderful place!

I had an overnight layover in Bogota, which I spent sleeping in the airport. I parked myself in front of the police station and tried to sleep, but I swear the woman vacuuming the place had it in for me, and I barely slept a wink. I finally arrived in sweltering hot Cartagena at 8:30 am. I wasn’t able to check into my hostel until 2 pm so I put my bag in storage, took a shower, and went to the common area. Everyone was getting ready for their day and I felt a little out of place. After checking my email a few times and pretending I had something to do for a while, I finally approached a group of people my age and introduced myself. They had all just met each other at the hostel and were super friendly. I spent a few days with them exploring the area, and from then on I didn’t fear being alone.

3rd day of my trip - El Totumo Mud Volcano near Cartagena, Colombia

While backpacking in South America, Australia, New Zealand, and Southeast Asia, I made the majority of my friends in the hostels I stayed in. Although I was travelling alone, I was almost never actually alone. What people who don’t travel don’t realize is that there are thousands of us crazies out there. I encountered so many different people doing similar trips to mine, and all of them were equally open to meeting new people and discovering new places as I was. I would often meet a person or a group of people at a hostel and end up travelling with them for a few days or a few weeks. Each of us had our own goals, so we would eventually part ways, but sometimes we would meet up again, either randomly or on purpose. I became part of a very strong network of travellers who became my family while I was away. Despite everyone being so different, all of us travellers shared one important trait – wanderlust. This served as a common ground for relationships to be built upon. When you’re backpacking, you only need one big night out to solidify a friendship and trust someone with your life. The intensity of living every day, as well as the sheer amount of new experiences you fit into a week while travelling creates a very strong bond between people who meet on the road.

Quito, Ecuador - One of the best groups I travelled with!

Lima, Peru - Magical Fountain Circuit with another awesome group of travel buddies.

Turbulence! Full Moon Party, Thailand

After a shift at the Dolphin Shack in Sihanoukville, Cambodia - We all snuggled and fell asleep watching Disney movies :)

I did often take the bus from one town to another by myself, but I actually treasured that alone time. My introverted self needed to recharge after being with other people for such a prolonged amount of time. Additionally, saying goodbye over and over again is emotionally draining, and I needed time alone to come to terms with it, and psych myself up for doing it all over again.

I spent a long time actually living in Australia and not staying in hostels. So how did I meet people there, you ask? A few of my friends were coworkers and housemates, but I made the majority of my friends through the wonderful world of Couchsurfing! I almost feel like the topic of Couchsurfing  deserves its own separate post, and maybe I will write one eventually, but it is really integral to how I met people during a good portion of my time abroad so I’m going to include it in here. Couchsurfing.org is a website that was originally created to facilitate finding a place to crash while in a new city. It has evolved into an amazing online community of travellers and internationally-minded people who are not only willing to host a stranger in their home, or be a stranger in someone else’s home, but who also just like meeting new people in the city they live in. I had been part of Couchsurfing (CS) for a couple of years before I left, but my experiences were limited to attending a few very French parties in Montreal, and meeting couchsurfers who were staying with my friends. When I looked into hostels in Australia I almost shat myself because they were so expensive compared to South America, so I turned to CS as an alternative. I ended up being hosted by the always charming and enthusiastic Will, and very quickly became enchanted with the CS community in Melbourne.

After finding a place to live and leaving Will’s apartment, I started attending CS events in Melbourne. There are a lot of them! I soon had something to do almost every night of the week, and I met a ton of incredible people. When I moved to Brisbane, I again went to a CS event (lawn bowls!) to meet people. I lucked out and met a group of ridiculously cool travellers who had just moved there as well, which led to having an amazing time in Brisbane too. Just like backpackers had, couchsurfers became my family and I never felt alone for the year I lived in Oz. I also couchsurfed and used CS to meet locals in a few other countries while I was travelling. Always a good experience!

Australia Day CS human pyramid in Melbourne! (not sure whose photo this is!)

Just being happy (not picking my nose!) in Melbourne :) (photo credit: Solange Herrera)

Nimbin MardiGrass Festival!

Sexy times with the Brisbane CS crew

While it’s hard for me to admit, there are some downsides to travelling alone. The main one is actually being alone when things get shitty. This could happen a few ways, but my only bad experience was literally very shitty – I got terrible food poisoning! I won’t go into details (maybe in another post!), but I had just gone off on my own in Peru when I got sick and ended up spending three days locked in a bathroom in a terrible hostel, with nobody to take care of me except the cleaning lady who thought I was a very weird gringa! On the flipside, I ended up meeting some great people because I decided to go to a big city and rest instead of going hiking in the mountains. And because I was ill for a while, I was eventually cared for by some truly kind people. I was also injured in Melbourne (I think I’ll save that embarrassing story for another post as well), and again was the recipient of the kindness of international strangers (couchsurfers, this time) who took care of me. I just want to note that going through that hard time alone definitely developed my character and my independence. Yes, all I wanted was my mommy when I was sick, but she couldn’t fly down and I ended up getting through it just fine. If I can endure an experience like that, I’m pretty confident that I can endure most things that life throws my way.

Another negative aspect to travelling alone is the constant goodbyes. You think you’d get used to it, but it just never gets easier. I heard the following lyric from a songwriter I met when I was in Vilcabamba, Ecuador: “Hate to leave, but love to go.” That perfectly sums up the feeling you get when you move from one place to another. After putting your heart and soul into friendships and getting to know a place, it’s very difficult to leave and start fresh; however wanderlust constantly pulls us travellers and we keep on moving. Although it can be sad or even heartbreaking to leave someone you’ve bonded with, at least you’re left with a meaningful experience and the knowledge that one day you’ll have a place to crash if you happen to travel to the country someone you met along the way lives in.

Completely lost during a hike in Vilcabamba, Ecuador.
Even if you don't know where you're going, you just gotta keep moving forward!

On the other hand, sometimes the person you’re travelling with turns out to be a jerk face, and he starts ruining your precious time abroad. The beauty of solo travel is that you can say, “Sayonora, asshat!” and just leave. I had to do that once or twice, and the moment I was alone again I felt my freedom return and was much happier.

For me it wasn’t just that I wanted to see new places or get away from someone I didn’t like; I often separated from my travel buddies because I just felt that it was time to strike out on my own again. I love travelling with people, whether they are old friends or new ones, but my experience is that after a while I start becoming too comfortable and isolated, and I need to venture off on my own if I want to have more interesting experiences. While it is nice to always have someone have your back, and clean you up after you puke on yourself, travelling with someone else means that you play it safe. If you already have a friend, your need to make new ones diminishes, and as a result you reduce the amount of cool people you meet and new experiences that you have.

One reason people are afraid to travel alone is they think they will be more vulnerable to crime. From my experience, that simply is not true. I will talk about crime in another post, but I really want to assert that being afraid of being a victim is not a good reason to avoid travelling solo. Yes, some parts of the world are more dangerous than others, and yes it is probable that a mugger will attack someone walking alone more often than someone walking in a group; however I would question why someone is walking alone in a dangerous area when there are so many opportunities to avoid that type of situation. Additionally, there are a lot of people available to help you if you find yourself in a pickle - you don’t need your best friend from grade 3 to be by your side. People are afraid of what they don’t know, but the truth is that there are good and bad people anywhere you go. Don't let the bad people hold you back!

And with that rant I come to the end of this post. Don’t be afraid to travel solo! The hardest step is the first one, and after you take it you realize that meeting people and seeing the world is easy as pie! Making friends on the road is far easier than making friends in your hometown, where people are stuck in their ways. You will not only have the time of your life if you travel on your own, but you will gain so much confidence in yourself and the rest of humanity that you will be changed forever. I cannot stress enough how brilliant it is to go off on your own and experience the freedom of solo travel. DO IT!

Freeeedom! (photo credit: Grant Smith)

The Art of Nearly Dying

I thought I’d make my second post about something light-hearted – near-death experiences! I really wanted to talk about why I, along with many other travelers, am a thrill-seeker, or a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I was planning on discussing how living on the edge makes me feel more alive, but the more I thought about the topic, and the more I Googled it, the more I came to realize that it’s an extremely complicated subject.

Obviously a lot of biology is involved. The term adrenaline junkie refers to the addiction some people have to the rush of epinephrine (aka adrenaline), dopamine, and endorphins that are released to the pleasure center of the brain when one is in a fight-or-flight situation. That means that people will put themselves in risky situations on purpose to induce this chemical response. Highly stimulating activities will produce large rewards, neurochemically. I haven’t thoroughly researched the topic, but I did read one article about "brakes" on the autoreceptors controlling the release of dopamine. Apparently low thrill seekers have a lot of brakes, and high thrill seekers have very few brakes. Check the article out here: http://www.sciencentral.com/video/2009/03/11/thrill-seekers-lack-brakes-in-the-brain/

So maybe I enjoy doing a tree pose at the edge of a cliff because I don’t have many of these brakes, but I also read that many adrenaline junkies cause stress in their everyday lives to feel a continuous level of excitement. They often do this by getting into arguments and surrounding themselves with a lot of drama. I definitely do not do that; however now that I think about it, I guess that’s why I travel the way I do. Being in a new place on my own all the time keeps me on high alert and keeps that pleasure center pumping. It’s hard to say if that’s completely true since I've met many solo travelers who are afraid of heights. Like I said, complicated!

Regardless, I would really just like to convey how I feel when I’m in a risky situation, and how I reason myself into tough spots. First off, I don’t have any phobias. I love heights, snakes, spiders, and all that jazz. Yes, I’m shaking like a leaf when I’m about to jump off a cliff because there is a higher chance of hurting myself than if I don’t jump, but I’ll still definitely do it. That fear translates into a feeling of excitement that I can’t live without. That said, I’ll usually only jump provided someone jumps before me to prove that I probably won’t hurt myself. That’s just sound logic. For me it’s hard to understand irrational fears. Why are some people more afraid to fly in a plane than drive in a car when the latter is far more dangerous? Again, this has a lot to do with neurobiology and psychology, which I don’t want to get into. I’m just saying that singing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” when I was a kid must have conditioned me to think that spiders are cute, and I don’t get how people could possibly hate something that eats mosquitoes!!!

Cool spider near some Shan villages in Burma

So part of why I seek out thrills is probably neurochemically defined, and part of it is psychological in that I can rationalize my activities, and I do risky things to prove to myself that I can. The most rewarding experiences of my life have also been some of the most challenging and death-defying. I have countless examples of these types of experiences, including white water rafting trips, bungee jumps (including a naked bungee jump!), body boarding down rapids, sandboarding, climbing Machu Picchu, crossing (and almost falling off) a makeshift log bridge while passing over a river with rapids and sharp rocks below, swing jumps, sliding down waterfalls, skydiving, cliff jumping, zip-lining, being in a taxi with no seat belt in some countries, and cycling down El Camino de la Muerte, aka “The World’s Most Dangerous Road" or "Death Road,” in Bolivia. 

The bridge I almost fell off of on our trek to Machu Picchu

Sliding down a waterfall outside of Pai, Thailand

Post Card Corner on Death Road, Bolivia

Sandboarding in Huacachina, Peru

Rappelling down waterfalls in La Fortuna, Costa Rica in 2008

I had to psych myself up to do each one of these things, and I am so satisfied that I did them. I could tell you the full story of all of those events and more, but I really want to go into detail about my most significant thrilling experience. It’s a story that I’ve wanted to share for a while because it reminds me of the power of mind over matter, and the importance of opening myself up to new experiences. I’m going to tell you about the time I climbed Cotopaxi, a glaciated volcano in Ecuador.

(Bear with me, this is a bit long-winded!)

Cotopaxi is allegedly the “most symmetrical volcano in the world,” and it’s really freaking beautiful. It is located just south of Quito, has one of the few equatorial glaciers in the world, and is one of the highest active volcanoes in the world. The peak of Cotopaxi is 5,897 masl. The sheer altitude of it is the most significant challenge of climbing it, especially for someone who hasn’t acclimatized, like I hadn’t! Altitude sickness usually occurs above 2,400 metres, and can manifest itself in many forms, including fatigue, dizziness, nausea, headache, and more severely, pulmonary and cerebral edema. Just getting from the carpark (4600 m) to the base camp (4810 m) took me between half an hour and an hour, depending on how hard I pushed myself and how much like death I wanted to feel.

View of Cotopaxi in the morning from the Secret Garden Hostel (photo credit: Noah)

Because Cotopaxi is glaciated, making it to the top involves using an ice axe, wearing a helmet and crampons, and being tied to other people by rope. Glaciers have crevasses (deep cracks) in them, which ups the danger factor of climbing Cotopaxi, but in general it is considered a pretty straightforward climb. On average it takes about six hours to get from the base camp (aka Refugio José Ribas) to the summit, and it is climbed in the middle of the night.

The reason I climbed Cotopaxi was because my travel buddy, Noah, wanted to do it. I hadn’t even heard of Cotopaxi a week prior to climbing it, and after I did hear about it I was terrified of attempting the climb. I had barely spent any time at elevation beforehand, and I had certainly never climbed something like that before. Nevertheless, we made our way into the mountains and spent the few days leading up to the climb at the best hostel I have ever stayed in: Secret Garden Cotopaxi (http://secretgardencotopaxi.com/). It’s gorgeous all around there (too bad my camera broke before we went!), they had some great staff, and because there is no internet and nowhere to go in the mountains, everyone in the hostel ate meals together and enjoyed each other’s company completely. During those few days we mountain biked down the base of Cotopaxi (holy balls that was fun!), went on a river hike in the middle of a hail storm (our guide Scotty was struck by lightening when we got back! Don’t worry, he was fine), and climbed Pasochoa (an extinct volcano that’s 4,200 masl). All of those activities were ridiculously fun, but also warned me of how difficult climbing Cotopaxi would be. I was really tired and experienced shortness of breath a lot. I also kept meeting people who either didn’t make it to the top when they attempted the summit, or told me that it was the hardest thing they ever did. We spent some time in the Refugio before our mountain bike ride, and a couple of experienced climbers told us that we shouldn’t attempt the climb. They told us how much they had trained for it, which scared the shit out of me since I hadn’t trained at all. I was pretty convinced not to climb after that, but Noah had a completely different reaction than I did and was all the more determined to make it to the top. He convinced me to do it again, and I fully committed myself to going.

Secret Garden Hostel Cotopaxi (photo credit: Noah)

About to cycle down the base of Cotopaxi in our sweet new hats (photo credit: Noah) 

River hike in a hail storm (photo credit: Noah) 

At the highest peak of Pasochoa! (photo credit: Jesse)

The day of the climb I was somewhere between hyperventilating and peeing my pants when we got picked up by our guides to go. There were four of us in the same group: Jesse – a Brit who I believe worked as a sort of wilderness guide in Russia, Bruno – a surprisingly fit sixty something year old from Switzerland who was cycling from L.A. to Argentina, Noah – an awesome Brit who I had been travelling with for a month already, and myself. We would be going up in two groups: Bruno and Jesse with one guide, and Noah and myself with another. We had a short training session, ate a pretty shoddy dinner at 6 pm at the Refugio, and were then told to go to sleep until midnight. The Refugio was beyond freezing, and sleeping in a room filled with 3-level bunk beds and grizzly old men is not as glamorous as it sounds. I think I drifted off to sleep for about an hour and then woke myself up because I covered my face with my sleeping bag and couldn't breathe. At midnight all the groups attempting the climb were ready to go, but our guides told us we might have to cancel the trip because it had just snowed. The fresh snow apparently created dangerous climbing conditions, and we were to wait a bit to see if things were safe. I was partially upset because I was about to lose all the money I paid for the experience, but I mostly felt relieved that I wouldn't have to put my body through hell and possibly endure the embarrassment of not making it to the top. Fortunately, at 2 am they cleared us for climbing, and we set off!

Base camp (photo credit: Noah) 

Where we "slept" before our climb (photo credit: Noah) 

The first hour of the climb was horrible. I felt sick to my stomach the entire time and I decided that I wasn't even going to attempt making it to the summit. My goal was to reach the glacier (5000 m), and then turn back. I told myself I would be happy with that, but when we got to the glacier our guide asked if I wanted to quit and something inside of me said no. I took off a layer of clothing because it turned out I was overheating, and that was causing most of my nausea. I also turned on my iPod and the Proclaimers’ “500 Miles” came on. All of a sudden I had a renewed vigour and was ready to march on.

All I can really say about the next five hours is that I felt like crap the entire time. I was trying to appreciate the beauty of the night sky and enjoy the freshest air that I had ever breathed, but I had to keep stopping to catch my breath and it was difficult to ignore the pain I felt all over. I kept a steady rhythm of right foot, left foot, axe, while I climbed. Being in the middle of our three person group, I could feel tension on the rope from our guide up front, and Noah behind me the whole time. Somehow, every time our guide asked if I wanted to turn back I managed to say no and keep going. Because we started late, and because we were one of the slower groups, the sun was already up as we approached the summit. I remember that at one point near the end there was a 60 degree incline that was covered in powdery snow that I could barely get up. I felt like crying, but I was past the point of no return so I kept at it until I got over that point. I was so tired that I could barely make it two steps without needing a break when our guide told us there was only half an hour left. To me that seemed like the longest amount of time in the world, but I got back up and kept going. Turns out our guide was tricking us and next thing I knew we were at the top!

The moment I realized we had summited the volcano was one of the best moments of my life. The joy that flowed through me made the hellish six hours it took to get up worth it. There were already quite a few people at the top, as we were some of the last to make it (not by much!), so we joined everyone and looked around in wonder. I was the only woman who made it all the way up that day, and most of the people up there were serious climbers, or had done a training course before going up. The pride I felt in myself combined with the beauty surrounding me is something I will never forget. The sky was a ridiculous blue, and you could see fantastic clouds and volcanoes all around us in the distance. One of the most amazing things was looking into the crater of the volcano, and smelling the sulphur from it. It made me really appreciate where I was and what I had achieved. We saw a double (possibly triple) rainbow arching over the shadow of the volcano, and I was like, “Ooooh myyy gooodd! Double rainbow all the way across the sky!!!” I wanted to do a cartwheel in glee, but I was still wearing all my gear and gravity felt so strong up there that I wouldn’t have been able to lift my feet off the ground if I tried.

Group picture at the top!!! (photo credit: Noah) 

Crater (photo credit: Noah)

Looking satisfied! (photo credit: Noah) 

The closest I came to doing a cartwheel (photo credit: Noah) 

Then the volcano erupted! We all ran or our lives and I made it through the ensuing avalanche by the skin of my teeth!                                                

Just kidding! The last time Cotopaxi erupted was in 1940.

What really happened was that we stayed at the top for about half an hour before we had to begin the descent back to the Refugio. For some people going down was harder than going up, but I found going down much easier. And by much easier I mean ridiculously hard. At this point we were all completely exhausted. Having pretty much not slept in over 24 hours and enduring the effects of altitude sickness, I was feeling like a piece of poo on a hot summer’s day. The glacier shone in the sunlight and my eyes were burning behind my cheap sunglasses. The snow was melting and sticking to my crampons, making it really hard not to fall over all the time. We would have slid down on our bums, but you can’t do that on a glacier due to the crazy deep crevasses everywhere.

On the way down (photo credit: Noah) 

One of the best parts occurred on the way down. There was only one point on the whole climb that we had to clip ourselves to a fixed rope in the ice because we had to traverse a very narrow ridge, and slipping would mean falling down a sheer drop to our death. Going up I had no problem with this part, but on the way down I had just clipped myself to the rope when I slipped! Noah is afraid of heights so when he looked back and saw me dangling there I think he almost had a heart attack haha. Our guide pulled me up by the rope and I made it over safely. I gotta say, that was one of the most thrilling experiences ever!!!

We slowly continued down, minding the vomit everywhere that we hadn’t seen during the night. We got to slide down the very last bit that wasn’t covered by the glacier, and when we finally made it back to base camp at around 11:30 am, I felt my body shutting down. Upon the advice of everyone else, I forced myself to eat to help my body recover, but I really just felt like lying down and going to sleep. Noah and I made the call to immediately get out of the mountains and hop on a bus to Baños, another town in Ecuador, instead of stay another night at the hostel – probably to save money, as we were cheap backpackers! It was a bumpy and crowded 3 hour bus ride, and I hurt absolutely everywhere. I’m pretty sure I had a fever and I was finding it hard to remember why I put my body through so much agony; however once we reached our destination I took an amazing shower, and it all came rushing back to me. I made it!!! I had reached the summit of Cotopaxi!

So to sum everything up, climbing Cotopaxi was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and I did it on a whim. It proved to me that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to. Who knows what else is in store if I keep myself open to new and challenging experiences!? Some people may say that engaging in risky behavior for the thrills is crazy. I say there are many reasons to look death in the eye and laugh. I know there are legitimate reasons why other people are more averse to risk and pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone, but I think those people should challenge themselves daily in their own way; even if that just means stepping on the glass floor of the CN Tower, or talking to a random person on the subway. I believe in taking calculated risks because they are the spice of life. I’m not going to look back on my life when I’m older and think, “Gosh darnit! I wish I had gotten a good night’s sleep that one time, or stayed home and watched TV that other day instead of dancing all night with a bunch of strangers and climbing a volcano.” I plan on living my life so that I can die happy at any moment. So far so good. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow has in store!