Solo Travel: Same Same but Different

I remember the time when travelling solo was the scariest thing in the world. There was nothing in particular that I was scared about but I was scared out of my wits. I kept imagining vague scenarios that quickened my pulse and kept me awake.

At the same time, it was also the most exciting thing in the world. It presented a totally novel and insane idea that was so out of my current world. I dreamed of unknown opportunities, destinations, and experiences that outweighed the fears and kept me moving.

When I first explored the idea of solo travel, travelling outside of work obligations and family holidays was a very young concept. Most people travel not out of want but of need while the rest simply had the time and money to spare. In my case, however, I travelled purely because of want and strict budgets have to be set to make it possible.

Because of this, whenever I tell people that I am going somewhere, they find it difficult to understand that I am not doing it for work and that I am neither on a holiday. What's more, I go alone with only my laptop and phone for company. They respond with so much confusion that I tend to question myself as well.

Nevertheless, I do know that travelling solo is something that I sincerely enjoy and am passionate about. While most people turn away from the work of making plans and arrangements for their vacations, I indulge in carefully designing my routes -- uncovering different means of moving from one place to another, searching diligently for prices and fares, and picking out known and unknown locations. To me, the journey matters more than the destination and stepping onto a new place is more breathtaking than the sceneries. It's not uncommon that I suddenly pause with the realization that I am, once again, headed to somewhere unfamiliar.

Now two years since I began my pursuit, I realized that travelling solo no longer scares or excites me. Gone are the wild thoughts and baseless worries that fed my doubts. Gone also are the hopeful anticipation and hazy daydreams that filled me with wonder. Instead, I feel comfort, normality, and familiarity even when arriving for the first time in a country whose language I cannot decode.

Though the experience is markedly different now, the same things that compelled me to travel solo persist still. I may no longer walk around with wide-eyed wonder like a kid in an amusement park, or with paranoid unease for pre-empting mistakes, but each new environment still amazes me and each unknown still worries me. Most importantly, I travel still because I want to expand my comfort zone and to incorporate more places into my personal reality.

Definitely, my preferences and goals will continue to change as I gain more years and experiences. But I am sure that no matter how familiar and unexciting solo travel becomes, it will never stop being amazing and breath-taking (add: insane).

Taken by yelmalab in Batanes, Philippines. Biking is definitely the best way (and most hardworking) way to explore a new location. This trip gave birth to this blog's forerunner, The Hardworking Traveller.

Early Morning Routines

Early in 2017, I left Manila for a 3-month commitment with an organisation doing marine conservation work. It was my first time to be involved in such and my first time to stay that long in a single place, outside of Manila.

I became part of a 5-person team from different nationalities, backgrounds, and expertise. We worked early mornings and moved together under a strict schedule that inevitable became a routine. This was something new to me as I have been so used to moving around on my own accord. Nevertheless, it was a learning experience and I now cherish every morning I got up before the sun did. Below is a narrative of our typical early morning.

4:30 am -- I drift into consciousness as my bedroom door quietly creaks open and a familiar voice softly calls my name. I respond as politely as I could, thankful for the wakeup call, but slip back for another five minutes of shut-eye anyway.

4:45 am -- I determine to get up, wash the sleep off my face, and put on the gray survey shirt that I was also wearing yesterday. I am on auto-pilot, with most decisions already been made days before.

4:55 am -- I arrive at the kitchen downstairs to find three other people in varying states of wakefulness and enthusiasm. I exchange glances with one or two of them as I pack my morning snack.

On some mornings, the mountains of Loon seemed to be burning but then a few minutes pass and a fierce orange orb reveals itself.

5:00 am -- Almost on the dot, our habal-habal* drivers arrive in a definitely happier and lighter mood than us, as indicated by Filipino love songs playing loudly from their phone. We split into pairs and set off, no instructions needed.

5:10 am -- After breezing through the empty morning road, we arrive at the usual beach just as the sun is rising. I gaze out towards the orange glow behind the mountains as my companions greet the resident stray dogs who have become accustomed to us.

5:30 am -- We sail out past islets, fish pens, and fishermen for a journey that will take an hour at the least. It's too loud for casual talk aboard our small boat so I sit back, feel the damp wind against my face, and watch the waves roll by us.

6:30 am -- We take out our sheets, equipment, and gears as we spot the cluster of boats that is our objective and instantly switch to full alertness. We maintain this state for a couple of hours as necessary and then slowly sink back to sluggishness.

10:00 am -- Arriving back at the same beach, we are welcomed by the same pack of dogs. We bid our boatmen goodbye and thank you and excruciatingly wait for our ride as we push our bladders of steel to the limit.

10:30 am -- As soon as the motorbikes brake to a stop, we shuffle inside and straight to the kitchen or the toilet. While a couple of us proceed to prepare their breakfast, others sit and check their phones. Either way, this marks the end of our early morning and the start of our individual days. The rest of the day can be spent as we deem appropriate but tomorrow, the routine starts again.