The last trip I took alone — other than the occasional business trip — was about 13 years ago when I went to Mexico City. Since then, it’s been Tirrell and I, or Tirrell, Max, and I. Never just me.
Not that I wanted to travel alone. I love traveling with my boys.
But here I am, in Greoux-les-Bains, in Provence, France, alone. And I’m enjoying it more than I expected. Here’s why:
1. Mine is the only agenda to keep. I don’t have to worry about Tirrell getting bored while I shop or Max getting bored no matter what we do.
2. No one is waiting on me to get back.
3. I’m finding it easier than expected to meander. No agenda at all, other than to sit on a bench and watch ducks. I wonder why I’m not able to do that with others…it’s all on me.
4. I’m discovering cool things. Like these carvings, found in some random stone in a park.
5. If I want to order expensive and too-big breakfast room service, no one can argue with me.
6. If I want to start drinking wine at 3 pm and eating Madelines, no one can tell on me (oops).
At first, I was a little nervous about going to the middle of nowhere. What if something happened? How would they find my body? But technology has made it easy to check in with Tirrell to tell him that, no, I wasn’t raped and pillaged at the Roman Baths, and yes, lingonberry jelly is amazing.
Guess I need to travel more on my own…