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By Kristine Abante
There are many reasons why solo travel for women, especially for pint-sized Pinays like me, can be less popular or a bit more of a challenge for those wanting to spread her wings and explore the great beyond.
Raised in a country that values community over independence, with most parents usually overprotective of their girls (And for a good reason, particularly if you lived in Manila where there is always that 50-50 percent chance of falling prey to the next scammer) being an independent traveler is not exactly encouraged in the Philippines. But as with any kind of exploration, the rewards almost always outweigh the risks.
There is something extraordinarily exhilarating and powerfully liberating about heading out into the unknown on your own.
I realize that long before the release of Eat, Pray, Love and the popularity of “travel-while-your-single” blogs, I have often ventured out by myself.
It started with short trips, like going to the bookstore or the mall at age 11, progressing from short walks, to taking jeepneys, trains, and then one day, discovering the so-called Partas bus line in Cubao that would let me travel as far North as I wanted to be.
There is still nothing quite like the feeling of waking up to a bus load of strangers after an 8-hour bus ride, on a crispy morning and having a century-old rustic city like Vigan in Ilocos Sur laid out before you like a gift waiting to be opened.
My very first trip abroad was a company sponsored press tour of Macau. I asked my boss if I could extend my trip to explore Hong Kong on my own. Again, I’ll never forget the excitement of having to find my way to the budget hostel that I booked, tucked in the inner city streets with a tattoo parlor downstairs. I hauled my luggage onto the old-school elevator the size of a fridge and checked in on a room that seemed custom-built for my size.
At 20 years old, alone in a foreign land, I felt like I was being born again, the world was fresh and ripe with every kind of possibility. For a moment I was free from the judgment and the requirements of others.
Years later, after a couple more solo trips, I would find myself hauling my luggage once again, this time on the steps of the Metro in Paris and eventually finding my way to mini café sipping French wine and celebrating my decade-long declaration of independence.
Sure there are benefits in traveling with a group of friends, and seeing the Eiffel tower with the love-of-your-life must be the stuff of our Hollywood romcom daydreams come true, but I would still suggest women in their prime to go out of their comfort zones every once in a while and dare to experience the world like nothing else.
And before you launch into Les Miserables-level of self-pity and start pretending that “he is beside you”, consider for a moment the perks of traveling on your own.
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