03
Just You?
Yep! Just me! I encountered lots of interesting, enlightening, and confidence-building experiences on my first solo trip. But I was unprepared for the sheer number of times I had to reaffirm that I was indeed solo. Not from Parisians. But other Americans around my age. Although, I should say that those who questioned my singleness did not share my gender…
The first time it happened, it didn’t phase me. The second time, I was curious. But by the third, fourth, etc, time, it started to annoy me.
Let me set the scene:
As I wrote in “my first time in Paris” story, my fabulous travel agent, K, booked me on a few tours. Good, I thought, a couple of planned excursions to get me oriented, learn about a neighborhood or activity, and enjoy the company of other travelers for a short time.
As you may know, themed tours consist of 10-15ish people, some of whom know each other (couples or small groups), and we all come together for this pre-planned experience. A food tour of Le Marais, for instance, or a chocolate lover’s walk through Saint Germain (I highly recommend both!).
On each of my tours, I happened to always be the only solo traveler, which honestly didn’t bother or occur to me until I started chatting with other similar-aged Americans who felt compelled to remark on that status. We’d exchange the usual pleasantries, including why we were in Paris. I’d share that it was my first trip and a celebration of my 50th birthday. Then, if a couple included an American man of a certain age, here’s how the next part ensued:
~Just you? the man would typically ask.
~Yep, just me! I’d exclaim proudly.
(brief pause)
~No partner? he’d confirm.
~Nope, no partner, just me.
(longer pause)
~Didn’t want to come with friends, huh? He’d persist.
~NO, JUST ME.
Now, if the couple was older than me, a same-gender couple, or a friend group, then the above scenario did not happen. Instead: “How wonderful! Happy birthday! We’re here for our anniversary via London. Have you tried Berthillon’s ice cream yet? You have to! It’s truly delicious! What else have you done so far?”
Now, I’m not sure why it was only other Americans and particularly American men my age. But, that’s a story for another time…
For now, I encourage you to take cues from other Parisians – it is not odd or weird or embarrassing to be with yourself in Paris. No one paid attention to the fact I was shopping or dining alone, and instead, it seemed commonplace. Solos are all over Paris: at cafes, gardens, shopping, wandering, eating, benches…everywhere! I never got a side glance from the maître d’ when I requested a table for one, and no one stared at me while I sipped hot chocolate and read a book on one of those fabulously famous green chairs in the Tuileries.
In fact, I was more likely to get mistaken for a Parisienne (so satisfying!!) when I was on my own…until they spoke to me in French, and I couldn’t respond with anything but my well-rehearsed “Je suis désolé, non Français” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak French), which was not exactly the correct way to apologize for my lack of language skills, but if said humbly enough, sufficiently worked.
Remember: you are not alone…you are with yourself! There are many benefits to solo travel including deciding your itinerary, pacing everything based on your own desires, and talking with other travelers who happen to be seated next to you at a restaurant (such fun).
My confidence expanded and my comfort zone increased. It was reassuring to know (and confirm) that I could take care of myself.
Plus, since we’ve reached a certain age, there’s a good chance that we have a bit more disposable cash – traveling with yourself means you get to spend it on yourself. Indulge in a better hotel room, splurge on a fancy dinner, absolutely buy that amazing bag you found when you were drawn into that cute little boutique.
So go. JUST YOU. To Paris.
Au revoir until next time,
~Valerie’s Granddaughter