Solo Dolo, Baby

Although I moved to Spain and have been navigating the last five months by myself, I consider my first true solo trip to have been this past week in the amazing country of Italy. It was a trip without any direction, other than to truly enjoy myself and experience the beauty and culture of another city. Coming to Barcelona, I had a purpose in attending school and making this place a second home, so it felt less like a vacation.

Venice, Italy was my first vacation spent in my own company – solo dolo, baby. I don’t know how I have gone so long without solo traveling before because it’s seriously the best way to travel! I have always relied on at least a friend or family member to share travel with, so the days leading up to my trip to Venice, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

I’ve gone through the motions of travel and flying so many times before, it’s almost like I get into a trance state until I arrive at my destination. So it really didn’t hit me that I was completely on my own in yet another country until I stepped foot off the bus in Venice.

Solo travel created such a peaceful state of mind for me. Anytime I travel with others, I feel a need to impress and create the absolute best trip possible with as many excursions and plans as I can think of. This trip was completely unplanned, which is totally not my style. But I can say that I really enjoyed the freedom and stress-free vibe of my time in Venice.

After walking around in awe at the sparkling, green canals that snaked between rusty colored stone buildings, I found myself at a small coffee shop where I made my first stop. I noticed I was much more focused on the dynamics of the city, paying attention to the way locals interacted and how their culture bleeds into every corner of the city.

It’s easy to become distracted from your surroundings when traveling with others, whether it’s in conversation, planning, or compromising on wants and experiences. It may sound selfish, but it was refreshing to be able to do what I want without consideration of others. If I wanted ice cream, I got ice cream. If I wanted to sit and rest, I rested. If I wanted to sleep in, I slept in. There was no agenda except for the one that came to me from moment to moment.

I spent my first day walking through the Venetian Ghetto, learning about the history of the first ever segregated neighborhood established for the Jewish community. I found the only authentic kosher bakery left in the ghetto, and the fennel cookie exceeded my expectations. After exploring more of the quiet neighborhood, I came to a homemade pasta shop for lunch… which again, exceeded my expectations.

Once my belly was full and my shoulders were starting to get crispy, I headed towards the hostel I would be staying at for the next two nights to drop off my backpack. And like I said before, when I wanted to rest, I rested. I took a quick nap once I got to the hostel to revive myself from a long morning of walking.

That evening, I set out for yet another one of my favorite things about solo traveling: self-guided audio tours. I really think I cracked the code with this one, guys. You can download an app and pay only €6 for a two hour walking audio tour that you are able to do at your own pace. For my first tour, I chose the “Haunted Mysteries of Venice” experience. I learned about the dark history of Venice and walked around the entire island while the sun set and created a golden, pink filter that reflected off the waters and stone streets. I finished my night at a rustic pub enjoying some cicchetti, a Venetian version of tapas.

The next morning, I set out early before the rest of the tourists to catch a water bus to the Cimitero di San Michele, a beautiful cemetery off the main island where all of Venice’s citizens reside in their afterlife. I have a weird fascination with cemeteries and somehow find myself visiting one almost every trip I take.

After my morning stroll through the magnificently designed tombs, I took the water bus to the island of Murano – which I was most excited for. Murano is the island of glass blowing. As a child, I used to collect tiny glass animals during Christmas when my local shopping mall would set up stands of intricate glass sculptures and creations. Eventually, the mall stopped selling them during Christmas time, and I haven’t seen any tiny glass animals ever since.

I knew this would be my favorite part of the trip, because I could stare at those sculptures for hours at a time – which is exactly what I did in Murano. I was able to sneak into a glass blowing demonstration (that I’m pretty sure was for a paid tour) and watched a glass master create a galloping horse out of hot glass in less than two minutes.

It was now time to head to Burano, the island of lace making and colorful houses. This island was quite small, but so peaceful and vibrant with local life. After enjoying a coffee and some Italian gelato, I spent a good hour and a half just sitting in the grass under a tree, people watching and enjoying the colorful views.

After the islands, I headed back to Venice and grabbed an aperol spritz to-go, for my walk to the waterfront next to the main square. I sat on a small pier and listened to a podcast about Venetian culture while watching the sun set over the lagoon. Experiencing these intimate moments with the city by myself created an even deeper appreciation for the charming city.

My last day was much slower and relaxed, as I spent most of my time finding different bars to enjoy aperol spritz and Italian wines. I did one last self-guided tour about the history and untold stories of Venice, created and narrated by a life-long local. Being on your own when traveling makes you more aware of things that you normally wouldn’t be, like the way an entire street of shop owners have created their own little family, trading snacks, drinks, and laughs with each other while tourists bustle through the streets around them.

The last place I went to before heading back to the airport was my favorite in all of Venice. I sat down on the patio of a small pub for a drink in this quiet square hidden away from tourists. I was the only customer at this time. The sky opened up and began to slightly sprinkle. The shop owner offered to bring my drink inside for me, but I replied by smiling up at the sky and saying that I enjoyed the weather. It was cool and refreshing compared to the hot, muggy hours of the early day. The shop owner agreed with me and then sat down for a drink of his own.

Once I was ready to pay out, the owner asked me what I normally drink, and of course I told him draft beer. I went to the restroom before paying, and when I came out, he had poured me an Italian made beer and set out a small snack of pub mix for me to enjoy ‘on the house’. I wasn’t in any rush, so I sat down next to him and his buddy that had recently arrived.

They talked to me about my travels and life in Spain. I asked them questions about their lives in Venice and how tourism has changed the city over the years. They only understood a small amount of English, so I was able to put my Spanish to practice as they understood me better that way. While sharing stories back and forth, one of their other local friends came over with his gold and blue decorated accordion. He played us a few songs and showed off his skills by freestyling some impressive notes, and then joined us for a drink as well.

The owner asked me if I had ever tried chilled, sparkling red wine – which I had definitely not ever tried. Him and his buddy opened up a bottle of Raboso Veneto, made in the Eastern part of Veneto, Italy. It is named after a river near where the grapes are grown. The wine was very different from any red I’ve had before, yet so delicious and creative.

These friendly men made me feel very welcome in their city, and I learned so much from their stories and lifestyle in Venice. I’m very grateful for such an up close look at the culture of such a historic and impactful city. I eventually lost track of time and realized almost too late that I needed to leave right away to catch the bus to the airport. I shook hands and thanked the lovely men for sharing their drinks and stories with me, and I took off in a half-drunk-half-run-half-walk pace towards the bus station.

As I ran up the last bridge that leads to the station, I saw my bus take off and began to panic. Somehow – with the universe or god or whatever you wanna call it on my side – I caught the bus at a stop light and begged the driver to let me on. He reluctantly opened the doors for me, and I snuck my way on the bus to finally head home. I caught a beautiful sunset on the bus ride to the airport and reminisced on my time in such an iconic city. Grateful for the experience and excited for my next.