One of the first things I learned as a solo traveler is that booking accommodation with a 24-hour front desk changes everything. I landed in Lisbon at midnight after a delayed flight, exhausted and slightly disoriented. My hostel had a self-check-in code, but the Wi-Fi wasn’t working, and I couldn’t pull up the email. A woman at the front desk of the hotel next door saw me standing on the curb with my suitcase and let me use her phone. That night I promised myself: for every first night in a new city, I’d choose a place with a person behind the desk. It’s a small rule, but it’s kept me calm more times than I can count.
I’ve picked up most of these tips from other women I’ve met on the road — in hostel dorms, on night trains, over shared bottles of wine. They’re the kind of advice you won’t find in a guidebook. Consider this a comment page filled with the collective wisdom of women who’ve been where you’re about to go.
1. Carry a Backup of Your Most Important Document — Not Just a Photo
Everyone tells you to keep a copy of your passport. But a photo on your phone is useless if the battery dies or you lose the phone. I carry a small, waterproof card in the lining of my day bag with a printed copy of my passport, visa, and the emergency contact number of my country’s embassy. I also email myself a scan and store it in a folder I can access offline. One woman I met in a hostel in Barcelona had her bag stolen on the metro. She had a photocopy tucked into her shoe. That copy got her a temporary passport in 24 hours. The photo on her phone was gone.
2. Learn How to Say “No” in the Local Language — and “I’m Waiting for Someone”
Confidence comes from knowing you can handle unwanted attention without seeming rude. In Morocco, I learned “la, shukran” (no, thank you) and “ana muntazira li sadiqi” (I’m waiting for my friend). In Italy, “sto aspettando il mio ragazzo” works like a charm. These phrases aren’t about lying — they’re about giving yourself a polite exit. I’ve used them in markets, on trains, and when someone insisted on walking me “home.” Every time, the person backed off with a nod. It’s a tiny phrase, but it shifts the dynamic from you being a target to you being in control.
3. Choose Your First Destination Wisely — Pick a Place That’s Solo-Friendly by Default
For a first solo trip, pick a destination where solo travel is common and infrastructure supports it. Portugal, Slovenia, Japan, and Iceland are excellent choices. In these places, eating alone at a restaurant is normal, hostels have social common areas, and public transport is reliable. I once met a first-time solo traveler who chose a remote island in Indonesia for her debut trip. She spent three days figuring out ferry schedules without any English signage and ended up crying in a phone booth. She later told me she wished she’d started somewhere easier. Build your confidence on a gentle route first; the wild adventures can wait.
4. The Two-Night Rule for Accommodation
When I arrive in a new city, I book two nights in the same place — even if I plan to stay longer. The first night is for recovering from travel. The second is for exploring. By then I know the neighborhood, I’ve found a grocery store, and I’ve met a few people at the hostel or hotel. If I want to move, I can. If I love it, I extend. This rule has saved me from the panic of checking into a place I hate and feeling trapped. It also gives me time to adjust without the pressure of moving bags every 24 hours.
5. Pack a “Comfort Kit” for Jet Lag and Lonely Evenings
Jet lag hits differently when you’re alone. There’s no one to nudge you awake or force you outside. I pack a small pouch with an eye mask, earplugs, a tea bag from home, and a lightweight book I’ve already started. On my first solo trip to Japan, I woke up at 3 a.m. in my capsule hotel, disoriented and homesick. I made a cup of green tea from my kit, read a chapter, and fell back asleep. That kit has become a ritual. It reminds me that I’m caring for myself, not just surviving.
6. Use Public Transport to Understand a City’s Rhythm
I rarely take taxis or rideshares on the first day. Instead, I buy a day pass for buses, trains, or trams and ride the entire loop. I sit near a window and watch how the city wakes up, where people get on and off, which neighborhoods feel busy and which feel quiet. I once did this in Istanbul and discovered a bakery near the end of a tram line that sold the best simit I’ve ever eaten. That bakery became my morning ritual for the rest of the trip. Public transport gives you orientation, not just transportation.
7. Trust the Women You Meet — Especially the Older Ones
In every country I’ve visited, local women — grandmothers, shopkeepers, waitresses — have been my best guides. In a small village in Greece, an elderly woman saw me looking lost and gestured for me to follow her. She led me to a hidden beach that wasn’t on any map, then sat under an olive tree and watched me swim. We didn’t share a language, but she smiled and nodded as if to say, “You’re safe here.” I’ve learned to trust those encounters. When a woman offers help, accept it. She knows the ground better than any guidebook.
This trust extends to other solo female travelers too. I once shared a train compartment with a woman from Seoul who was also traveling alone. We swapped tips for three hours — she taught me how to use a Korean bathhouse, and I showed her how to order food in a crowded market without speaking the language. Those exchanges are gold. Keep a small notebook or a notes app for them.
8. Have a “Plan B” for Your Evenings — Even If You Don’t Use It
Loneliness often creeps in after dinner. I always research one thing I can do alone at night: a cinema with English subtitles, a late-night café, a free concert at a church, or even just a bookstore that stays open until 10. Having a backup plan means I never have to sit in my room feeling stuck. In Vienna, my Plan B was a jazz bar near my hostel. I ended up going three nights in a row and met a woman who invited me to a wine tasting the next day. That evening became the highlight of my trip.
9. Don’t Overplan the First Three Days — Leave Room for Spontaneity
I used to arrive with a spreadsheet of activities. Now I leave the first three days mostly blank. I book one thing — a walking tour or a museum — and let the rest unfold. This is when I stumble into a neighborhood festival, get invited to a family dinner, or decide to take a train to a smaller town because someone at breakfast recommended it. Overplanning creates stress; underplanning creates possibility. For a first solo trip, aim for a loose outline with a few anchors and plenty of white space.
10. Keep a Small Ritual That Belongs Only to You
One solo traveler I met lights a candle every evening in her room. Another writes a postcard to herself every week. I buy a local stamp from every country and paste it into a notebook. These small rituals ground you when everything else feels foreign. They turn a hotel room into a temporary home. They remind you that you are the constant, not the place.
11. Practice the Art of Eating Alone — Start with Lunch
Dinner alone can feel intimidating at first. Start with lunch. Sit at the counter, order something simple, and take out a book or notebook. Lunch crowds are smaller, service is faster, and the pressure is lower. By the time you try dinner alone, you’ll already know the rhythm. I practiced this in a small trattoria in Florence. The owner noticed I was alone and brought me a free glass of limoncello. “To your courage,” he said. That moment made me feel seen, not lonely.
12. Let Yourself Change Your Mind
You might book a week in a city and want to leave after three days. That’s okay. You might plan to visit five museums and only go to one. That’s okay too. Solo travel gives you the freedom to pivot without explaining yourself. I once cut a trip short by two days because I felt homesick. I spent the last 48 hours in a park reading and eating gelato. It wasn’t the itinerary I’d imagined, but it was exactly what I needed. Being solo means you answer only to yourself — so be kind to that person.
The last tip I’ll leave you with is this: buy a small notebook and write down the names of the women who help you along the way. I still have mine from that first trip to Lisbon — it’s filled with scribbled directions, phone numbers, and one phrase in Portuguese: “obrigada, minha amiga.”
