Week 3 Report From the Road
The life of a solo traveler can feel isolating at times, and even lonely. The challenge is to enrich the experience by balancing the solitude (which I actually love and don’t mind most of the time) with connections with others. I do this in a variety of ways, some more successful than others, as you will see.
The Rarity of Solo Travelers
I’m not talking about business travel, where solo travel is probably the norm. I’m talking about traveling for pleasure. Camping trips. Fishing trips. Hunting trips. Road trips or flying or sightseeing trips to far off places. Vacations. I’m sure there are many people who do travel alone (and I’m a member of some FaceBook groups targeting those people, so I know they are out there). But on this trip I seem to be the exception and not the rule. Everywhere I go I see primarily couples, older or younger, some with young children, others in groups of couples or families. Over the three weeks I’ve been traveling I have yet to see an obvious single woman (or man) at any of the campsites when I have been out biking or walking around. In restaurants, museums, tourist sites, and the like, the same is true. Couples, families, groups of men or women, but very rarely someone clearly alone.
The one exception to that was when I was at the Driftwood Inn on Bailey Island. The Inn has a restaurant that serves breakfast and dinner and I decided to partake of both (as a reward for surviving all that rain in the previous days…). At breakfast I noticed an older woman (like me) sitting at the table next to me. We weren’t facing each other and both of us enjoyed our coffee and beautiful views out the windows in contemplative silence. I was looking all around the room and out the windows and taking everything in. I noticed she did not look around at all, and barely looked out the window. She ate her breakfast and left soon after.
Over the course of the day I thought about her and decided it was a missed opportunity to make a connection. I resolved to invite her to join me for dinner if she made another appearance. I went to dinner at the appointed hour (they ring a bell at 6pm to let all the guests know it’s time for dinner. There is only one service, guests having put in their orders ahead of time). A few minutes after I was seated the same woman came in and was seated again at the table next to mine. I looked for an opening to make eye contact, smile at her or say something, but she didn’t look at anyone in the room. Just sat there facing the window. Didn’t order a drink. Didn’t order dessert. Didn’t look around. Ate her meal and left.
I blame my inaction on that shy little girl inside me who keeps popping up and preventing me from speaking or taking social risks. After all, what if the woman rebuffed my overture? The last thing I want to do is intrude on her private space. Maybe she wants to be alone. Maybe she’s going through something tough and doesn’t want uninvited interaction with strangers. What if we had nothing to talk about? What if the conversation went sideways and we both regretted having spent an otherwise lovely evening trapped with a stranger we didn’t want to be with?
Such are the inner conversations people like me have with ourselves, and the reason that we both ended up eating alone that night. I am all about pushing myself out of my comfort zone, but somehow the stakes seemed higher in this situation than I was willing to risk and I chose the easier path. No regrets really, just a reminder that I’m a work in progress. Maybe next time…
Conversations with Strangers
After reading the above you are probably thinking that I’m going about my travels in relative silence and not engaging with anyone along the way (other than the occasional meet-up that I’ve already described in other articles). You would be wrong. That would be very isolating and not in a good way. Engaging with strangers here and there is actually very easy, and also very rewarding. I’m convinced that all humans crave and need connection with other humans, so it is important to work those opportunities into the solo traveling experience. Here are some examples from the first three weeks:
Week 1: This is Rick (center), carpenter and builder extraordinaire. He is standing with my sister and brother-in-law in front of the barn he is building for them. I can’t begin to tell you how beautiful the work is and the care he takes in executing his craft.
The day I left Carol’s place in Ashfield, he had just put on the back door to this barn and wanted to be sure I saw it before driving off. I’m so glad I did, and that he wanted me to see it. He was working diligently as a one-man operation the whole time my siblings and I were together, and the progress he made in that very short time was phenomenal. He happily took time out to answer questions we had and explain what he was doing, exhibiting well-deserved pride in his work. He also does a lot of camping so was interested in seeing my rig. Personable and friendly, it was a pleasure to meet him and see him working at a craft he clearly loves.
Week 2. This is Pam Parrot. She has a booth at the Wakefield, New Hampshire farmer’s market and when she isn’t spinning thread and making beautiful scarves, hats, mittens, etc., she is tending to her herd of alpacas, goats and angora rabbits. She was fun to talk with and happily explained all about spinning wool into yarn, and had her spinning wheel onsite for demonstrations. I bought a scarf from her and before I walked away she told me which threads in the scarf came from which animals.
I would not have even been at that farmers market that Saturday except for a lovely woman named… mmm… Diane… mmm… maybe… I think…?? (so terrible at names and I didn’t write hers down - darn it!). Anyway, this lovely woman is friends with the women who hosted our New Hampshire rally, and is a seasonal resident at that campsite. She didn’t know us from anyone and wasn’t participating in the rally. When her long-time friends Kathleen and Lisa were still sleeping when she came to their site to ask them to go with her to the market, she invited KD and me, strangers (certainly to her and almost to each other, having met only the evening before when we arrived at our campsites), to go with her instead. We both leapt at the opportunity, and she drove us to the market. There were lots of interesting people, craft booths, fresh veggies and baked goods. Such a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning in a new place! With such lovely people!
Week 2. This is Jan Roberson, who lives on one of the islands of Harpswell, Maine. She is a local pastel artist and has a gallery just off the main road on Bailey’s Island.
I had taken a long early morning walk that took me past her place and I was curious about it but it was closed. On my way back to the Inn, after stopping for a water break and shade from the hot sun, I noticed she was open and decided to go in.
I’m so glad I did. As I was looking at her art and prints scattered about we struck up a conversation. I knew I wanted to buy one of her small prints but was having trouble picking one out. As we chatted she told me about her art and the Giclée technique for making the prints (a printing technique I was totally unfamiliar with). I kept circling around her tables picking up one print and then another. Finally, I asked her to pick one out for me that represented the island and scenery that so mesmerized me. By that time she knew I was staying at the Driftwood Inn, which is located very near the Giant’s Stairs, a local destination on the island. The print she chose is in the photograph and depicts a scene near the Stairs where I went walking several times while on the island. What a treasure! She has led a very interesting life and our conversation lasted well over an hour and long after I had paid for my print.
Week 2. While I was waiting for the ferry to take me from Bellacampo Island to Deer Island and then the mainland of New Brunswick, I struck up a conversation with the three young men who were waiting in the truck behind me. They had been on the island fishing for herring and apparently had pretty good success. (Note to my son Conrad: in answer to your recommendation that I eat some herring while in New Brunswick, that is as close as I got to herring of any kind despite the fact that I was staying at the Herring Cove Provincial Campground).
Waiting for the ferry to take me back to Deer Island and Bellacampo at the end of my day trip to Saint John, I was approached by a woman who was traveling with her (presumed) husband. “Are you one of those women van campers who just travel and go everywhere?” I guess there is a first time for everything! I smiled, thought for a second or two, and responded, “yes, I guess I am!” That led to a short but fun conversation about van life.
Week 2. This is the Wall of Grandmothers, which is located in the City Market in Saint John, New Brunswick. I was looking for a place to have lunch in this old, long-standing indoor market, with many vendors and stalls of all shapes and sizes and variety of goods and food. This restaurant stood out to me, partly because of the wall, and partly because of the sign above the counter which read, “Slocum and Ferris, Established 1895.”
I decided I didn’t care about the food, but I had to eat at this place and find out about the wall.
As I waited for my order, I asked about the pictures, assuming they were members of the family who had owned this restaurant going back generations. But no. Turns out that this “Wall of Grandmothers” first existed at a different well-known, popular restaurant somewhere else in Saint John. When the restaurant became a casualty of the pandemic and folded, the owners decided they couldn’t destroy the legacy of these pictures, added so lovingly to the wall during the years of the restaurant’s operation. So they were offered to the owner of Slocum and Ferris, who was very happy to have a place to display them for all to see. I sat eating my lunch at one of the tables right next to the pictures, and enjoyed imagining all these grandmothers living their full lives as young women, girls, mothers and finally grandmothers.
Week 3. Meet Brian and Pat. They have been coming to Salisbury Beach for over 40 years to fly the kites made with great care by Brian. They get them going and then sit under an awning outside their car parked in the public beach parking lot and enjoy the view. They clearly take great delight when families and children come along and appreciate the uniqueness of Brian’s kite designs. They didn’t seem to mind when I approached them, and readily agreed to have their picture taken in front of their kites. The circle kites are particularly unique and beautiful.
Before I continued on my bike ride, Brian gave me a small Ukrainian flag, saying, “They are fighting to save our democracy.” Not sure what he meant by that, but not planning to spend too much time thinking about it. My visit with them was a joy.
Week 3. This is David and Buddy. David takes Buddy everywhere on his bicycle and tells me he sticks to his shoulder like glue no matter how fast he goes. He told me he used to be a stand-up comedian but now that he’s old and retired he’s a “sit-down” comedian. When I was trying to remember his name and called him Dave, he responded by saying, “you forgot the ‘id’” - took me a minute to realize what he was saying. My little pea brain sometimes just can’t keep up with someone else’s wit.
David is good friends with Pat and Brian of kite-making fame, and none of them seemed to mind me busting into their conversation when I rode up on my bike.
So as you can see, I am having great fun meeting new people through various casual encounters. If I hadn’t been camping, if I hadn’t been out riding my bike or taking a walk, or taking a ferry ride, or any number of other mundane activities, my life would not have been enriched by these interesting individuals. Most of them I will never see again, but the memories will linger.
