A Soulful Reunion in the Middle East

Ryan discusses his personal experience of solo-travelling.

In November 2018, I was experiencing one of the lowest points of my life thus far. Six months prior, my mother had died from heart disease. Only a month prior, my boyfriend had dumped me. So, it’s safe to say I was in a pretty insensible state. In fact, through losing them, I ended up losing myself. They say grief is a dislocating entity and they’re not wrong. Six weeks before Christmas and I was sick of looking in the mirror and seeing a husk glare back at me. I was sick of living each day in autopilot, being an arrow operating in aimless direction. I knew something had to be done. And fast.

activities, somewhat terrified of spending lengthy days in my own company. What if something went wrong and I didn’t know what to do? What if I was robbed or kidnapped or got into an altercation with a rogue camel? I knew other holidaymakers would be on the trips with me, but I wouldn’t know them, and I suffered from capricious social anxiety at the time. I firmly believed that in order for me to milk this experience to its optimum, I would need a close companion. My solitude would only seal up the udder.

I decided to let impulsivity rule the roost for a change and booked a one-week holiday in Egypt. My heart wanted a respite from routine, and I had to listen to it. My father came with me on the holiday, but from the get-go, I knew he would only want to lounge around the pool. If I wanted to go and see the relics in the Egyptian Museum or sail down the Nile I

would have to partake in such endeavours by myself.

Upon arrival at our resort, I signed myself up for a myriad of

excursions and However, over the course of the seven days I spent travelling around Egypt, I began to realise solitude was my best friend. At the museums and archaeological exhibitions, I wandered off, peacefully awe-struck by the impressive craftsmanship and architecture. At the Giza Plateau, I stood up to an aggressive vendor who tried to blackmail me into buying blocks of wood, prompted by my lack of external support.

At the Valley of the Kings, I dared myself to speak to a curator in Tutankhamun’s tomb, feeling a sense of pride that was cultivated solely by myself. By the end of the trip, I felt renewed, because I realised that by experiencing these wonderful expeditions by myself, I had forced a self-reconnection. There had been no consistent distraction; no excuse for me to remain lost. I could only ever truly rely on me when I was in these foreign environments alone and so a resurrection of the spirit was inevitable.

If executed safely, solo travelling allows us to flourish in a way no other form of travelling could permit. It allows for psychological rejuvenation. It forces profound introspection. It offers a mechanic for the soul.

Ryan James Keane Graphic & Page Design by Natasha Phang-Lee