Dr. Carolyn Lee reflects on a different cliché each week. Recently, in her blog “Seeing is Believing,” she wonders about mystical experiences. This week Carolyn explores the cliché, going it alone.
Learn more about Dr. Carolyn Lee on her biography page or investigate 29 more clichés in her latest book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By.
Going It Alone
In 1985, I visited an Up with People cast in Zurich. After spending a fun few days with them, my work was finished, and I had about a week before I flew back to the United States. I was free to do as I pleased. The cast was going on to Bern, so I boarded the train with them. When the train stopped in Lucerne, I said good-bye to my friends and disembarked. I had left my big, heavy suitcase with a friend in Antwerp, so all I was carrying was a backpack, my handbag, and my briefcase. So there I was—traveling light, standing alone in the Lucerne train station. I had no idea where I was going to sleep that night or what the next few days might hold. Instead of feeling lonely or uneasy or afraid, I felt excited and . . . adventurous.
The next day, I decided I wanted to spend the week in a place where I didn’t have to struggle with language, so I went to the airport and bought a ticket to Shannon, Ireland. When I arrived in Shannon, I rented a car and drove to a nearby bed and breakfast. There, at afternoon tea, I spread out my map and plotted a tentative itinerary—Shannon to Tralee to Killarney and Kenmare. I drove narrow backroads, stayed in farmhouses, walked the streets of tiny hamlets, had tea and scones every afternoon—by myself.
When I got back home and told this story to my friends, they listened with their mouths open. All of them were happily married, living in nice houses with big backyards, raising children, and walking dogs. None of them could even imagine setting out alone, driving a rented car down unfamiliar roads in a foreign country. None of them would have even wanted to do such a thing—but they seemed terribly impressed that I had done it. I think that might have been one of the reasons why I had done it.
This wasn’t my first experience with going it alone in foreign territory. In 1964, I went to Europe for the second time. A friend and I spent almost two months making our way from the British Isles through the heart of Europe, as far south as Rome, then north along the French Riviera all the way to Barcelona. At that point, she was feeling homesick and decided to head back to the United States. I, on the other hand, thought it might be interesting to return to London and spend a month by myself. I moved into a room at a little boarding house on Earls Court Road, and for the next few weeks I explored the city, saw as much theater as I could afford in the West End, took side trips to Edinburgh and Cambridge, and ate a lot of solitary meals. My family and friends looked upon all this in amazement. None of them had ever done such a thing. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I did it.
When I recollect these experiences, it’s almost as if I am remembering someone I used to know. I cannot explain why she seemed to get so much satisfaction from traveling solo. I honestly think she saw herself, that solitary soul walking through St. James Park in the rain, or attending a service at Westminster Abbey, or driving through the Irish countryside as a “romantic” figure. Romantic in this sense: “Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.” I also believe that, since I wasn’t living in a nice house with a big backyard or raising children or walking dogs, I felt the need to distinguish myself by living the adventurous life.
Traveling alone now falls into the category of “been there, done that” for me. I haven’t the faintest desire to explore exotic locations or traipse the countryside by myself. Part of this attitude is a coming-of-age thing. Ordinarily that terms applies to that period in a person’s life when they transition from adolescence to adulthood. But another transition occurs when a person transitions from mature adult to octogenarian. A strange shifting of focus and desire and need happens at that point, along with a noticeable reduction in energy and stamina. Also, there is the fact that certain members of my family and a number of my friends would have a fit if I suddenly announced that I was planning to drive from Portland, Maine to Portland, Oregon alone. They would shake their heads in disbelief and disapproval if I expressed a desire to backpack through England’s Lake District on my own. However, if they accompanied me—well, that would be a different story. In February, my sister, my brother-in-law and I flew from Dallas to Istanbul, where we visited mosques and bazaars and ate lamb Shish kebabs. A couple of days later, we made our way to the Masai Mara, in the heart of Kenya. There we lived in tents and went on daily safaris where the savannah was populated by lions and leopards and giraffes. We had a much better time than I would have had, if I had gone it alone.
Want to Read More?
Check out Dr. Carolyn Lee’s blogs on her website, she features a new cliché each week or you can order her new book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. Want to know more about the woman behind the words? Read more about Carolyn here. We hope you enjoyed this article learning more about the cliché, going it alone.
