I Am a Polar Bear

Welcome to another new series for 2022! This one is about a subject I know quite a bit about but don’t make prominent enough of this blog: solo female travel. Over the course of 2022, I’ll cover everything I can think of about travelling alone as a woman and you can always leave me a comment with any aspect you want me to do. I’ll be starting off with before you even begin: how to get brave enough for it.

With “being brave” you have the logical rational part of you that knows when something is safe and the irrational lizard part of you that won’t accept it. In time, your lizard brain will come to realise that nothing terrible is happening and hopefully will start to go quiet. But the logical part of your brain can be silenced with a bit of forward planning. I present to you: a risk assessment!

Well… I mean, yes, we are effectively going to do a risk assessment but it’s not going to be like the massive forms I have to send to my District Commission every time I want to take my Brownies or Rangers anywhere. We’re not going to bother with at least half the columns. We’re just going to look at the risks and concerns and how to mitigate them.

Bonus: concerned family, friends, colleagues and anyone else who wants to say “Eastern Europe? By yourself?? Three weeks? In Russia?? What do you mean, you’re going to the High Arctic? Do you want to die? What does your mother think of all this??” can be flattened by a risk assessment, or at least by you having the answers ready to fling at them with a smug smile.

I want you to get a piece of paper or a notetaking app or MS Word or whatever you prefer to write things down in and make a list of all the parts of solo travel that scare you, that you’re apprehensive about, that you don’t know about. They’ll vary from person to person and trip to trip and my list will look different to your list.

• I won’t know how to get to my accommodation from the airport/bus station/etc
• What if my wallet gets stolen?
• I might be lonely
• I don’t speak the language
• I might get mugged
• Where do I find breakfast?
• I don’t know what to wear

Keep going until you’ve written down every concern, no matter how trivial. Now you need to go through them all, consider them a bit and come up with an answer. Writing down that answer might be good if you’re prone to worrying, just so you can see the evidence in black and white that you’ve addressed it – or to show your mum so she understands that you are taking this seriously. I have never written it down, though, and neither have 99.9% of solo female travellers.

Let’s work through the concerns I’ve listed.

I won’t know how to get to my accommodation from the airport/bus station etc

1. I like to choose somewhere near to where I’m arriving. The airport is rarely convenient so I’ll head into town. Does that happen by bus or train or taxi? I find trains easiest so that’s what I’ll pick if there’s a choice. What station does the airport train arrive in? Is there somewhere suitable nearby? Excellent! A word of warning: the area around a railway station, for some reason, is rarely the most salubrious part of town but I personally find it most convenient. Maybe I’ll move somewhere nicer tomorrow but I probably won’t bother with all that. I want to explore the town but I don’t want to do it the moment I’ve arrived while still carrying my luggage so if I can find somewhere to stay within a five or ten minute walk of the station or the bus stop or a metro stop, that’ll do me.
2. How do I get to this convenient place? Look up what bus or train you need to take and if there’s any doubt in your ability to remember it, write it down. When I went to Russia, I had a tiny little handmade notebook the size of my passport but even thinner and that’s where I wrote that sort of thing. I divided it into one section per city, if you’re planning a multi-stop trip. This is the bit I mess up mostly frequently. I assume I’ll just know which bus to get or just know where to get off. Find the bus number, if possible go on Google Maps to look at where you’re getting off so you recognise it when you arrive.
3. Make sure you know how to get from the convenient place to the accommodation. Is it on the other side of the road? Do you need to scribble a hasty map in your notebook? Write directions? There’s nothing worse than standing in a new place with a heavy bag going “I know it’s nearby somewhere!”
4. If possible, make sure your accommodation is highly visible. When I went to Kiev, I knew I’d be arriving in the dark so I chose the Hotel Ukraine, which is the biggest ugliest building in the city, right on the most famous square and right next to a metro station. I didn’t want to be walking around dark back streets looking for a tarnished plaque, I wanted to walk right up to the massive Stalinesque skyscraper and know that’s precisely where I’m going.
5. Try not to arrive in the dark. It’s intimidating and even if you’ve planned down to the last detail, walked the route on Google Maps ten times, drawn yourself a map, it can all go out the window if you can’t see your surroundings properly. Sometimes it’s unavoidable and that’s when I’ll stay really close to the station.
6. Take a taxi! I loathe taxis myself and go out of my way to avoid them but I know I’m in a small minority there. A taxi straight from one door to the other will eliminate virtually all your problems.

What if my wallet gets stolen?

1. Carry your valuables separately. Don’t pack your wallet with all your cash, all your cards and all your ID. Keep copies of your ID, or even keep it somewhere secure back at your accommodation. A lot of countries demand that you have your ID on you and can produce it on demand at all times so keep that in mind.
2. Try not to carry your entire trip’s worth of cash on you if it’s avoidable. ATM and exchange fees can add up but it’s a small amount to lose compared to carrying around all your cash at all times and getting it stolen.
3. Use a refillable cash card. Leave your real debit card at home and take the travel cash card. You can transfer money onto it from your bank account on the app and if you only load it with what you’ll want for the next couple of days, that’s all you’ll lose if your wallet gets stolen.
4. Cancel all your cards as soon as possible. That may mean keeping the number of your bank or card provider somewhere handy – in that little notebook I keep talking about – or it may be possible from your banking app. I don’t know about getting replacement cards; it’s not something I’ve ever dealt with or worried about.
5. Keep an emergency fund back at your accommodation. For me, that’s enough cash to get back to the airport. Mind you, in Lithuania I dithered for a while and then spent it on amber necklaces and rubber ducks because I was stupid. In Switzerland, when I went for New Year 2020, I found myself at the bus stop counting out coppers because I hadn’t thought to keep my get-back-to-the-airport fund aside and there was no way of buying a ticket using a machine or getting any cash out where I was. Make sure, no matter what happens, you’ve got cash for your journey home.

I might be lonely

1. There are different kinds of solo female travel. I’m unsociable so I truly am travelling solo. I don’t find it lonely because I’m not that kind of person and also, I’ve never been away longer than three weeks so I don’t have time to get lonely. If you are, or your trip is longer, plan to meet up with other people. That might mean staying in a hostel where you have ready-made friends in the kitchen and common room, joining a group tour where your group becomes your friendship group, doing guided day trips where you’ll meet other people or just going out and finding new friends in a bar.
2. You might end up hanging out with a different group every day or you might end up tagging onto a group and becoming part of it. Whatever works for you and them. Backpacking Bananas does this in her recent Turkey series; flies out to Istanbul on her own, befriends some people in her hostel and has been travelling along the coast with them ever since.
3. There are group tours designed specifically for solo travellers, so no one will think you’re weird and everyone will be waiting to make new friends.
4. Sometimes it might help to get used to spending time in your own company by doing smaller trips and build up to a longer one. Are you actually lonely or are you tired of having to depend on your own competence? Building your competence will also build up your confidence and if you’ve practiced finding your own way around a strange place, getting on and off buses and trains and planes in the right place, keeping all your paperwork together, you may find you don’t feel so much need for another person to help.
5. If there’s one thing we’ve learned lately, it’s the value of video calls. You can always phone home. It may help or it may make it worse but it’s an option you can consider.
6. Another option to consider is videoing your trip. It doesn’t work for me but a lot of YouTubers mention talking to the camera as “keeping them company”. As per other concerns, you don’t want to be waving expensive cameras around too obviously in public but it might make you feel a little less lonely to know there’s an audience waiting for your video, even if it’s only your family and friends when you get back.

I don’t speak the language

1. Anglophones, native English speakers, are notoriously bad at languages. But the fact is that learning a language is a long and difficult process. I studied French for seven years at school followed by four years at university. To this day, the best I can manage if I’m in Paris is to check in to my hotel in French. It’s not practical or reasonable to think you can “just learn the language”.
2. Around Europe, virtually everyone will speak enough English for you to get by. Don’t do an Emily in Paris, though – don’t stand there with a vacant expectant grin waiting for everyone to realise you don’t understand. Be polite and perhaps a bit apologetic – “Excuse me, sorry, do you speak English?” is a better start than an “I don’t speak French” with a head held high and that big stupid perfect white smile. Honestly, Emily’s demeanour around French bothers me far more than her inability to speak it.
3. Everyone will tell you to learn how to say things like “please”, “thank you”, “hello”, “excuse me”, that sort of thing. You can learn that in ten minutes so it’s worth doing. But what’s also worth doing is learning words like “exit”, “entrance”, “tickets” and “closed”. You don’t have to be able to say them or to recognise them if you hear them but they’re the sort of thing you’ll see. Someone I used to work with once complained that they got stuck in a museum because they didn’t know “exit” in French. Personally, I’m not sure how you can live with seeing France on the horizon every day of your life and not recognise the word “sortie” but never mind. It’s also handy to recognise the days of the week so you can read opening hours on shops and museums. And if you’re going to eat out of supermarkets, I find it’s useful to be able to recognise the word for “bag” since they’ll always ask you if you need one. It’s amazing how easy it is to make people think you understand if you can nod or shake your head at being asked if you want a bag.
4. Plenty of things are labelled in two or more languages, especially in major tourism sites. English is often one of them. In Finland, everything is marked in Finnish and Swedish and I found I could get by with the Swedish, since it’s close enough to my very limited Tourist German even though I couldn’t make out a single word in Finnish. In Russia, there’s often an English translation in small letters underneath.
5. It often doesn’t matter if you don’t speak the language anyway. When I was in Romania, I wanted to know if this was the correct bus for the airport. I found someone who looked friendly, pointed at the bus and waved my arms like a plane. I was wrong; they took my arm, turned me round and pointed at a different bus. Hey presto, interaction managed with no shared words! Also, most people will understand and appreciate a “thank you!” if said enthusiastically and with a smile even if they don’t know the words.
6. If necessary, you can write things down. When I went to Finland on my very first solo trip, I decided to take a taxi from the bus station to my hostel. No idea how to ask or how to pronounce the address so I printed the confirmation, highlighted the address and handed it to the driver. When I wanted to top up my Moscow metro pass with ten more journeys, I looked it up on Google Translate, wrote it on a bit of paper and handed it to the lady at the counter.
7. Don’t worry about what people think of you, as long as you’re not doing an Emily Cooper. Remember that if they don’t speak your language and you don’t speak theirs, they’re not much better than you, if you see what I mean, and if you can communicate and you can get around, you’re doing ok.
8. If the language uses a different alphabet, try to learn enough to decipher some of it. I admit that’s easier with something like Russian because it’s a relatively straightforward switch from one set of symbols to another and once you’ve translated it into letter you’re familiar with, it’s surprising how often you’ll find a familiar word underneath. Case in point: ланч баскет on a KFC sign in Moscow – L-A-N-CH B-A-S-K-E-T – oh, lunch basket. KFC bucket! I know nothing about Chinese but my understanding is that symbols can represent anything from a sound up to an entire concept and I wouldn’t know where to begin. It’s always worth looking into the language.

I might get mugged

1. Yes, you might, but in my traveling days, between November 2008 and January 2020 (they will resume, eventually!), it never happened to me. Start with reminding yourself that although it does happen, it’s not an everyday event and you’ve got a good chance it won’t happen to you.
2. That said, there are some ways you can reduce the possibility and let’s start with not wandering around dodgy places on your own in the dark. I did my absolute best not to go anywhere in the dark on my own and then I started my travelling career by going to Helsinki in November, where it was getting dark by mid-afternoon and pitch black by 4.30pm and I realised if I was sticking to daylight, I wasn’t going to have a lot of time. However, the dark in the Nordics at 4.30pm is very different from the dark at 11.30pm in the back streets of a big city.
3. If someone threatens you, give them what they want. You’ve already covered “what if my wallet gets stolen?” so you’ve covered most of the worst of this. Don’t fight back, it’s not worth escalating the situation.
4. Keep your valuables hidden. Don’t wave your £1000+ camera around. Don’t wear your grandmother’s Sunday jewellery or your Omega watch. Look into clothes with hidden pockets. I have two t-shirts. One has zipped pockets down the side that are virtually undetectable and a great size for passports and credit cards. The other has big obvious pockets in the side but more discreet ones around the neckline and hem. Look into belts, scrunchies and even underwear with secret compartments.
5. It might not be a bad idea to carry a dummy wallet if you’re going to use secret pockets, just in case your mugger doesn’t believe for a moment that just because there’s no wallet in your bag you don’t have a wallet. Keep a small handful of worthless coins and maybe some old expired cards in there to buy yourself a few minutes before your mugger discovers they’ve been had.
6. Get somewhere safe. You’ll probably want to report the event to the police but maybe it can wait until the morning and what you really want is to be back at the hotel with a receptionist between the door and your room, or even a receptionist to explain things to and beg for help. Bless hotel receptionists, they are some of your greatest friends while travelling. It doesn’t even have to be the hotel you’re staying at; I’ve often popped in to ask for directions to my own accommodation and in Russia, to get someone to phone my landlady and explain that I’m right outside. They often speak English and if they don’t, they’ll usually be able to find someone who does.
7. Report it to the police. If you’re going to make an insurance claim – and do that as well, so make sure you have travel insurance – you’ll probably need a reference number.

Where do I find breakfast?

1. Does your accommodation provide breakfast? You might find it’s included in your price. If not, it might be something you can add to your bill. I generally don’t add it because I can’t eat enough bread and juice to make it worthwhile. My dad, on the other hand, can virtually profit from it.
2. There are cafes everywhere. Google them, ask at reception or your fellow guests or just go out and look for one. Stations are great sources of cafes. Pick up a pastry and a coffee and enjoy your breakfast while walking around town. Sit down at a table and eat a proper local cooked breakfast on a proper plate with your orange juice in a real glass. Whatever you fancy.
3. Find a shop. A supermarket, a convenience store, even a petrol station, and pick up something to eat. Take it back to your accommodation so it’s there ready for tomorrow. When I was in Russia, in the apartment in Ekaterinburg, the first thing I did was run down to the shopping centre and stock up on bread, butter, juice and cereal so I could have a real breakfast every day for the next two cities. Yes, carrying that from the train to the hotel in Perm was maybe my worst idea ever. Pack better than I did.
4. Take some food with you, if only enough to get you through the first twenty-four hours. You’ll figure out the food situation very quickly but if you’ve got a tube of Pringles, a handful of cereal bars, some plastic cheese slices and a bottle of ultra-concentrated squash in your suitcase, you won’t starve while you’re figuring it out. Pringles and plastic cheese slices are great travel food; they’re economical in terms of space and they last well.

I don’t know what to wear

1. What are the practicalities? What’s the weather going to be like? Don’t know? Look it up! It won’t be precise because the weather is unpredictable but it’ll give you a better idea of whether you need a snowsuit or a lot of shorts and t-shirts.
2. If you’re doing a multi-climate trip where you need all of it, is it worth doing the cold place first and then parceling up your thick warm clothes and posting them home? It’s a bit of a faff and it’ll cost a bit but it’ll save you carrying them around for the rest of the trip and that might be worth it for you.
3. The less you pack, the less you have to carry, so don’t take a whole new outfit for every day. Clothes can be reworn! They can also be washed but drying may be a problem. When I was in Russia, I think I did some washing in Murmansk halfway through the trip and I definitely washed two of my t-shirts when I arrived in Perm and one of them took the entire two days to dry properly.
4. Take lots of lightweight things for the weather. Don’t take a full-on heavyweight raincoat unless you’re anticipating rain every single day but throw a folding packable anorak into the bottom of your bag. A lightweight fleece makes a difference well beyond its weight and a gossamer-thin Primark thermal top is worth its weight in gold.
5. Don’t go “oh, but these eight are all my favourites and I might want to wear them!” Pick a smaller but appropriate number and enjoy the rest when you get back. This is travelling: practicality over pretty!
6. Are there any local or religious requirements? Do you need to take a head covering for visiting churches? Do you need clothing that covers knees and shoulders either for visits or for in public? I still remember my boss ranting and raving about a work trip he did to Libya with a lady who wore the mini-est of lemon yellow minidresses and I remember buying a knee-length skirt for the Vatican – why I thought I couldn’t just wear trousers, I don’t know. Did I not take trousers, maybe? Did I live in the blue skirt and the floaty pink dress?
7. Do you need a swimsuit? For me, that’s a yes – I like to swim in an ordinary local pool even if there’s no hot tub or spa or volcano to swim in and I’ve pretty much always regretted it when I haven’t taken one.
8. What about shoes? Are you hiking? Are you going to spend all your time on the beach? Is it worth taking a second or third pair of shoes? Is it worth the weight of carrying them? I took a pair of glittery converse-alikes for the Laugavegur trail, to wear around the campsite in the evening. Could I be bothered to force thick socks inside them and then contend with the laces? Nope! I lived in the sandals I’d taken for river crossings, with the thick socks. It’s a campsite, it’s not the front row of Paris Fashion Week.

That’s seven problems solved right there! Go down your problems, think logically about them – think about what you’d do in each situation in your own hometown and if you’re still stuck, there’s either the comments right here to ask, email juliet at iamapolarbear.com or there are a thousand other solo female travellers on the internet who would love to help you join their ranks. In the nicest way, everything has been done before and someone somewhere will have your answer.

Good luck! Next time: picking your accommodation.