Why it is (sometimes) good to worry your parents: a case for solo travelling

By Meg Luddington, University of Sydney, Australia

A decision to study abroad is usually enough to give your parents grey hair or encourage an already unhealthy relationship with the Find My iPhone app. That is before you even mention the idea of travelling alone either side of the study period at your new uni. But here is why you should do it anyway!

My parents were very supportive of my first solo endeavour. New Zealand’s South Island is one of the safest places to be a solo female traveller, and what better time to be there than January: the deepest depth of English winter, and the glorious height of their summer. I promised and (for the most part) delivered frequent updates, stayed in hostels, rather than camping, and when doing potentially dangerous things, like mountain hikes, or skydiving (!) did so with other nice people I encountered along the way, rather than alone.

There were still moments when I had to reassure them I hadn’t been swept away by a rogue glacier or joined a cult of barefoot van-lifers, but for the most part I felt free to do as I pleased and they were happy I was safe.

Six months later, at the end of my semester, after many adventures and life lived with friends made in Sydney, I announced to my parents that I was going to go to the Northern Territory for a two week solo trip. Somewhere along the way my sense of adventure had outgrown their comfort zone, clearly, when my mother keenly encouraged me to take some friends with me, or at least find some to travel with when I got there. ‘There’ being Darwin: a 4 hour flight north from Sydney and starting point of my two week roadtrip in the ‘never never’ (what the locals call the Aussie outback).

I think the poem where this nickname originates was not a direct cause for their unhappiness, but goes some way to showing you the reputation of Australia’s outback:

‘Out on the wastes of the Never Never –

That’s where the dead men lie!

There where the heat-waves dance forever –

That’s where the dead men lie!’

Filled with my newfound confidence, and potentially misguided assurance that I was, in fact, invincible, I set out. Alone.

I did everything they hadn’t been keen on me doing the first time: big hikes by myself, solo wild camping, swimming in remote waterfalls.

And I did it all blissfully out of range of phone signal. The brief moments I re-entered civilisation I would receive panicked tearful phone calls from home letting me know that my icon on find my iPhone hadn’t moved for four days and they were moments away from launching an international search and rescue mission. I had to gently explain that I hadn’t been kidnapped, or eaten by a crocodile, I’d just found a particularly scenic spot to read my book. Apparently, that wasn’t reassuring.

Away from the internet, more than a little smelly, but with nobody but me to upset with a lack of soap, I learnt more about myself and the world than ever before in a two week period. Yes, I might have gone travelling and ‘found myself’ *cringe*.

Your relatives worry because they care about you. And also because taking on the world by yourself is exactly the kind of unpredictable, un-parent-friendly activity that builds independence, confidence, and …a troubling indifference to personal hygiene. Worrying them just a little might be one of the best decisions you can make.