Solo travel can be daunting. And if you’ve never taken a trip alone, extending a group trip for an extra day or two can be a comfy way to test traveling alone, in a place you’ve had time to explore in the comfort of others’ company.
As an avid solo traveler myself, I often add on a day at the beginning or end of a group trip, to get my bearings or decompress, or just ensure I can enjoy my own itinerary without accommodating other peoples’ preferences (people pleasers, solo travel is for you). I first started adding on a day or two to group trips to be thrifty—flying out mid-week is often much cheaper than booking specific weekend dates. Accommodations can also be cheaper and point redemptions more valuable.
And that I did for a recent long weekend bachelorette party in Charleston, a city I’d wanted to visit for nearly a decade, but hadn’t yet set foot in. I had years’ worth of restaurants and bars starred on my Google maps, historical sites to visit that might not be appropriate for a group of women in matching outfits buzzed on sweet tea mimosas, and a desire to partake in one of my favorite activities: embarking on long walks in a new place, alone.
Of course, I wanted to be fully present for the celebrations and not feel like I was missing out on tasting the local oysters no one I was traveling with particularly cared for or paying a visit to Charleston’s Old Slave Mart Museum. So, I booked my return ticket 36 hours after the goodbye brunch, saving money by leaving Monday night instead of Sunday.
Throughout the weekend, I was able to have fun and stay present, not feeling like I was missing out on the cute cafes we walked by or the shops I wanted to stop into and browse because I had the luxury of a solo post-game after our multi-person itinerary.
After the group generously dropped me off at my hotel (I’m too anxious to stay in Airbnbs alone), seemingly a little confused about why I’d choose to stay alone, I checked into the Palmetto and opened my suitcase in the middle of the room to pick out an outfit for my solo exploration. I had no itinerary, one dinner reservation (Le Farfalle had been on my list since dining at their sister restaurant, Da Toscano in Manhattan), a few chapters of my novel to revise, plus a paperback contemporary Jane Austen retelling. I could Facetime my wife without headphones from the room. I could book a second dinner and order dessert and not share. I could take three scalding hot showers to wash off the humidity and not feel guilty about the rest of the group waiting to use the bathroom.
Better yet, the past four days had acquainted me with the city—the French Quarter, the bustling King Street downtown, the slowed-down pace of everything compared to my New York City norm, so my solo stint was extra relaxing. I already knew which streets I could walk home later that night and feel safe. I knew where the nearest Target was to buy a new contact solution. I’d knocked the Charleston City Market and Shem Creek and party bares off my list and could instead spend copious amounts of time eating a veggie quiche with locally milled grain crust at Harken Cafe and alternating between daydreaming and eavesdropping, nowhere to be, no one to talk to.
Time moves slower, in the most pleasant ways when traveling alone, free to daley at a place that piques your interest or rush through a site that’s just not hitting. The group text is there if you get lonely, but as an add-on to a group trip, a mini solocation is a time to be in the best company: yourself.
For me, Charleston Part II (Melissa’s version) was the perfect solocation. Indulgent, a little bit, but it balanced out the bachelorette vibes, made me enjoy both parts of the trip even more, and I returned home satisfied I’d seen so much of Charleston.