Traveling solo

Traveling Solo

By: Jason R. Brock

It was three a.m. and I was drunk and alone. My self-imposed threshold hadn’t been crossed, but I had one foot on each side of the line. It’s one thing to have drunk twenty bucks worth of liquor at Pac Shores with a crew of your best pals, but when you’re eight thousand miles from your own bed, in the third world, and you’re without back up, it can be intimidating.

My wingman Lou left the previous day to get back to work. With all that Indonesia had to offer, it should have made my decision to stay and travel solo an easy one, but I must admit, I was quite apprehensive. My plan was to stay local, in the familiar zone for the rest of my holiday. Kuta beach was easy to get around in, cheap, the surf was fantastic, and the nightlife was rocking. There was no need to go further.

As I warily made my way through the maze-like streets of Kuta Beach, my fears quickly waned, when I heard something familiar... something that brought me back to my childhood... John Denver! Rocky Mountain High was escaping from the windpipes of one of the local kids wielding a beat up six string. I was transported from equatorial Southeast Asia, to my family’s powder blue, Ford Econoline van, on the road to the Sierra Nevada, circa ’79. Eight track technology of course.

As I crossed the road, a group of smiling faces, huddled in the light of the storefront greeted me. I was invited to join them and was soon playing percussion on an empty two- liter bottle of Coca-Cola. We sang a few more John Denver tunes before the young Indonesian offered me his guitar. I asked if they had heard of a band called Nirvana. They hadn’t. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised. I took the guitar and played “Where did you sleep last night?” I’ve never had a voice, but I passed it off, the way Dillon does with his own songs. When I finished playing, I handed back the guitar, and thanked my friends for the fun. At the time I didn’t realize that I should thank them for much more.

Next day, as I stepped from my room, shielding my bloodshot eyes from the piercing tropical sunlight, I was approached by one of the local vendors on my way to breakfast. He was selling spots on the next surf charter to Nusa Lembongan, Lombok, and Sumbawa. Impulsively, I said OK! At the time, I wasn’t sure what prompted this impulse, but in retrospect, I thank my experience from the previous night. For such a brief encounter, it had a profound impact.

Two Aussies, three South Africans and myself, loaded our gear into a dodgy old “spider boat.” These locally built boats were rickety, to say the least. No GPS, no life preservers, and no back up motor. For sustenance, we had a generator powered “refer”, full of warm Bintangs and some live chickens, which were held captive in hand-woven reed baskets. The details of this sojourn aren’t important. It was a great adventure and I made some new friends. The reason I mention, it is that I did it. I went for it, and in doing so I developed my sense of “individual spirit” even more than if I had just planted myself in Bali.

Since we are born without an “Owners Manual”, we have only our perceptions and experiences to teach us about who we are. It has been said, that you can learn more by traveling the world than in any classroom. This takes on a whole new meaning when you are traveling alone, because you aren’t bound by an identity. As fun as it can be to have someone with you on your holiday, it can also be a set back. The reason for this, is that you have an identity, which has been characterized through your relationship (however small it may be) with that person. This identity in some ways can be inhibiting and in a sense, it can confine your actions, whether it’s on a conscious or subconscious level. Spontaneity is most assuredly stripped from the equation too. A less enthusiastic travel partner can veto a great spontaneous idea, as fast as it was sparked.

Most people enjoy sharing the experience of travel with a good friend or loved one because by nature, we are social beings. But take it from me, and those “many people” who do occasionally travel solo, try it, at least once in your lifetime. You’ll be surprised at how many people you’ll meet, how much fun you’ll have and the volumes you’ll learn, about your world, as well as yourself.

Indonesia- May 1996