I'm A Serial Solo Traveler—Here’s What I’ve Learned About Traveling The World Alone
It was early in the morning in Indonesia. Walking with my surfboard in tow and my local surf instructor by my side, we stopped to watch an assembly line of people passing goods from a small boat on the shallow shore onto trucks on the end of the beach where the road met the peppered sand. They passed sunburnt oranges and ripe pineapples as my instructor explained that they were for Nyepi, or as he put it, “Balinese Christmas.”

On the eve of Nyepi, when streets would explode with celebrations, I ventured out to watch their final preparations. I quickly found myself watching a spectacle of little kids running around attempting to sneak an orange from the stacked offering baskets. I laughed, despite myself, watching the innocence of childhood play out. At that moment, I couldn’t help but reflect on my childhood, when I rarely left the comfort of the Midwest. As of today, I have ridden homemade motorcycles in southwest France, watched a baby gorilla play in the jungle of Uganda, and made friends at a hidden alley bar in Bangkok. It was here, in the small streets of Indonesia, that I realized I live a life of adventure. All while traveling by myself.