Actually, the thing about traveling by yourself is not necessarily the grandeur of re-invention, self-realization (or was it self-invention, your choice), or the small but life affirming joys of relocation/allocation, warped from your little foggy hometown bubble to that gorgeous hi-res sunset, the dizzying sensation of coming home in a place you’ve never been before, or not even the roller coaster ride when things go a bit pear shaped and melancholy sets in you actually like the company of fellow travelers, celebrating the impromptu friendship to what was 30 minutes ago a total stranger – No.

See, Captain Ahab went for Moby, Phileas Fogg went for time, Iron Man for some glowing pulse in his chest, and to the solo traveler, the long time backpacker (and dare I say the travelblogger?) happiness only shines when you are traveling – or so it seems.

Three things. We all like to carve our names in some tree or rock. Nomadic Matt¹ is just a figment of your imagination. And finally, the true solo traveler likes to have a drink – loudly, omnipresent, shark white teethed, with some perfect “oooh, nice!!” eternal tan contrast, celebrating the, nay, all evenings comforting the weekly mate/gall/soulmate, just as live should go on, like in forever and totally recommended, all straight faced and true, with a glass of beer or .

Point is are solo/long time travelers just like expats, more or less doomed to live under their private vulcano? Aren’t the drinks the aphrodisiac of the lasting entertaining uhm… traveling you? Yeah. Drinking the cool aid, preferably with lots of alcohol, and preferably on a daily bases, the big communicator² between the local homebound you and the wild wide world? Take a sip and I bet you need more.

But then again, this may be only in my head. I certainly miss my glum soberness while traveling.

ps. Tomorrow the corrections, of course, doing justice to verbal (“ahw, what was I thinking!”) slips and slops due to sipping a wee bit of wine and balancing on the pre-trip (Bangkok here I come, again) shivers and suppressed envy/longing to be just like you.

1.You know, deep inside he’s just like you, a sweet little boy looking for a sweet little girl and stops traveling when he finally sets eyes on her and goes for babies and beers on the couch.
2.Of course I meant that little voice in your head saying you are just doing fine.