So, only one ticket?

"Just the one, then?" the Maori sales assistant said yesterday.

"Yes thanks," I replied, "Just me."

There are certain times when you are made screamingly aware that you are On Your Own.  Holidaying solo is one of them. In 2007, I went to NZ on my own, and came to the conclusion that about 4 days was all I could take of my own company without going completely loopy.  It's the 4th of 7 days of my WA holiday, and I'm actually cutting the Fremantle section and leaving to go down south tomorrow.  I have accommodation booked until Sunday, but I just can't stand it any longer.  I need to see my aunt and talk to someone who is not a stranger. I even rang my mum to tell her about my trip.

Yesterday I went to Rottnest Island.  I didn't do any planning - sometimes it's fun just to see where that takes me - but as I got off the ferry and realised that I didn't know anything about the island or what to do I reached for the closest pamphlet and rapidly studied it.  That's one of the advantages of travel solo -you can just wing it, but its hard too.  I rode over 20k yesterday, a long way for my aching butt today (just not used to sitting on a bike that long). As I went around the island, there were times when I was completely unsure of where I was.  There was no one to ask, and I'm geographically and spatially not skilled at all. This was hard.

The heat and the wind beat down.  I thought- if I wander off over one of those sand hills I could get lost for good.  I went snorkelling after I'd almost finished the round trip - not because I wanted to go then, but because other people were going at that beach.  Because,  what happens if I'm out and I get stranded? They say snorkel in pairs on the sign but I don't have a pair.

Today I went to Fremantle prison.  I love history.  I love sad, despairing places of history.  I knew I'd like the prison, and I did. But this afternoon, the tour guide needed us in pairs for the boat section and the ladder section. I didn't have a partner or friend, so I got matched with the tour guide as there were 13 of us.

The first night I was in Fremantle, I needed to get dinner.  So I put on my pretty new dress, did my hair, put my nice sandals on, and walked down to the restaurants.  I love Thai so I went into the Thai restaurant, and lost my nerve.  The only people in there were couples.  I didn't have the guts to sit at a table on my own, so I ordered take away, two dishes, so people would think I was taking it back to eat with someone else. 

Sometimes I wonder why I find it so hard to be alone and single.  I have friends, lots of friends.  I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, entertaining myself, running my own life.  So why do I find it hard?  Out of all the women I know, I'm taller and stronger than them.  I'm independent.  I'm intelligent.  I'm capable.  I don't NEED anyone else at the moment.  So why is it so hard?

Because the world is coupled.  Going swimming at Cottesloe, I had no one to look out for me, so I spoke to the lifeguard.  Trekking through the wild section of bush at Kings Park, not a soul knew where I was, if I got bitten by a snake.  Riding round the deserted desert on Rottnest, no one could be seen for at least half the riding. Doing a scary tunnel tour, floating through small dark places, crouching in 4 foot tunnels, it would be nice to have someone to look out for me.  

It takes guts to be single.  It takes BIG GUTS.  And the world asks you incredulously: "Just the one, then?"