Recently, as a result of my travelling companions getting hitched or having children, I was forced into the category of 'solo traveller'.

I figured I could either embrace my new title or wile my days away at home before returning to work. And so, as I prepare to set off on yet another solo holiday, I’ve been contemplating the pros and cons of my adventures per uno.

People’s reactions

It’s always slightly amusing to watch people’s reactions when they hear I’m travelling alone. The majority of people will respond quite positively and remark upon ‘how great you are’...Quickly followed by the ‘I could never do that’ statement. This begs the question as to why they think it is okay for me?

When I reach foreign waters my singular status – particularly as a woman – tends to receive a similar positive reception. It can work quite to my advantage.

People are intrigued as to the ‘why’ behind my solo trip. They want to talk to the woman with the mysterious story. If I don’t have one I can fabricate something – or better yet, say nothing... that really gets their interest levels up.

Challenges

One of the greater challenges I have faced is in the area of logistics. When you are booking tours or on-going journeys I have found there is safety in numbers or maybe even gender.

In a busy bus terminal in Moshi, Tanzania, I felt my solo nature and gender bearing down on me harder than the midday sun. It was easier to allow myself be ripped off than to risk haggling with the pack of bus drivers who could smell my vulnerability.

As a result, I found myself on a bus with no air-con for 11 hours. The journey involved me being sat on – well my right thigh anyway – by an African male donning a leather jacket and matching trousers. Still to this day I am baffled as to how he got them on or off in the heat of the African summer.

This may seem funny now but I can assure you that I was not amused. I had ant bites on my feet that needed serious scratching and I couldn’t get at them because Mr Leather was sitting on me.

When you’re suffering from mobile cabin fever the option to share the joke with a friend can be the light relief you need to get you to your destination.

Photographs

A lot of my solo travelling predates the ‘selfie’ function on your smart phone. You do at some point in an album of scenic shots want to pepper it with a face. Truthfully, quite a number of my photos are poorly taken selfies with an important section of the item of interest cut off.

On the upside the “would you mind taking my photo?” can be a great opener if you are looking to break the ice with a fellow handsome solo-ite.

The language barrier

Although I may pretend to at times, I cannot speak French or Spanish or any other language well enough to get me through any more than the ordering of a coffee. I have, in the past, relied on my friends to break the ice with the locals and tease out the necessary information with their linguistic skills.

I have discovered on my lone travels that the ‘locals’ are far more forgiving of my linguistic faux pas as a single person. In fact, many will use it as an opportunity to practice/show off their mastery of the English language (you just have to let them think it was their idea). So, although I may be armed with a phrase book, I rarely have to use it.

Me time

Living with four ‘strangers’ in a house share in Cork and teaching a room full of young boys for a living means I’ve learned to value my time alone. These solo trips afford me the opportunity to take stock of my thoughts (or at least hear them).

I don’t have to engage in polite chit-chat about how someone’s day went or respond to questions about mine... or deal with other people’s drama in general.

I move to my own timetable. I can linger a little longer in a place that excites me – even if it’s only to take in the view for an extra minute. The point is the power is in my hands. I can engage with others if I feel the need for company. I can also disengage when I want – and do so without insulting anyone.

Sleeping arrangements

This ‘me time’ rarely transfers to your sleeping arrangements however. Solo travellers often do not have the luxury of knowing the person they are sharing their sleeping quarters with.

On a recent trip, I was assigned a room with a Scottish woman who was, like me, traveling alone. She was, quite frankly, nuts. My alarm went off one morning – granted it was at 4am but non-intentional I can assure you.

My temporary roommate certainly made her disgust verbally apparent – exaggeratedly tossing and turning for a good ten minutes to the tune of 'tuh, forrrr God’s sake' and 'ugh can knee believe it'. I hadn’t intentionally meant to disturb her slumber. In the morning I promptly apologised to clear the air. Her response was, ‘Ach no, that did knee bother me at all’… Sorry, what?

Although, there are times when the sleeping arrangements forced upon you as a solo traveller can be quite amiable. I joined a group of climbers in Morocco to climb Mt Toubkal. Before the company would accept my booking they rang to double check I’d be ok sharing with 15 men. My response? ‘Ah no, that doesn’t bother me at all...’

And so I prepare for my next solo adventure. Whilst I have got the ‘butterflies’, I’m looking forward to the hidden extras of the single supplement. I may not be able to reach a spot on my back with the sunscreen but the handsome Frenchman in the bunk next to me could do the honours.

Also, there is nothing like an unsettling taxi ride in a foreign country to remind you just how much you appreciate your loved ones back home.