Essential Solo Travel Tips

Advice from a Photographer Who Spends Most of His Life Alone on the Road

I spend a lot of time travelling alone. Not because I prefer isolation, but because photography quietly demands it. When I'm out photographing—whether that's a city waking up before sunrise or a stretch of road most people drive past without stopping—I'm moving at my own pace, following instinct rather than an itinerary. Over the years, across more than 45 countries, solo travel has become less of a choice and more of a working reality. I still remember my first solo trip: the sense of independence and freedom was unlike anything I'd experienced before, and it marked a pivotal milestone in my journey as a traveler. That first solo trip set the stage for many more, each reinforcing the benefits of exploring on my own terms.

What follows aren't recycled tips pulled from a travel blog template. These are solo travel tips forged through missed buses, dead phone batteries, uncomfortable encounters, unforgettable meals, and moments of quiet clarity that only happen when no one else is there to influence the decision.

If you travel alone for photography—or are thinking about it—this is the version of solo travel no one really talks about.

Why I Travel Solo

Solo travel strips everything down to essentials. There's no committee, no compromise, no schedule beyond the light and the weather. When I'm alone, I'm more observant. I notice how a street changes mood every ten minutes. I stay longer when something feels right and leave instantly when it doesn't.

Photography is deeply personal. When I travel with my wife, the experience is shared, and that's something I value immensely. But when I'm travelling for work—for photographs that will eventually become fine art prints—I need space to think, to wander, to fail quietly and try again.

Solo travel isn't about escape. It's about clarity.

Keep Your Solitude Quiet

One of the most essential pieces of advice that I can give to anyone traveling solo is simple: don't advertise that you're alone.

That doesn't mean being paranoid. It means being discreet. In taxis, cafés, casual conversations—there's no upside to telling strangers you're travelling solo, especially when you're carrying camera gear. I never announce future locations publicly while I'm still there, and I avoid posting anything in real time that could pinpoint my location.

This applies everywhere. Not just "dangerous" destinations. Canada. The U.S. and Europe. Early mornings and late nights are when photographers are most exposed, and the fewer people who know you're alone, the better. If you find yourself walking alone in an unfamiliar town, be especially cautious—plan your route or consider taking a taxi to minimize risk.

Silence is a form of safety.

Trust People—But Verify Everything

Most people are good. That's not a travel cliché for me—it's a conclusion formed over decades of solo journeys moving through unfamiliar places alone. But solo travel teaches you something subtler: kindness and opportunity sometimes walk in together, and not every door needs to be opened all the way.

One experience in Havana, just after COVID, locked that lesson in for good.

A local hotel employee struck up a conversation on the street. He was friendly, well-spoken, and genuinely helpful. Cuba was still finding its footing again, and good cigars were challenging to come by. He offered to help, and to his credit, he did. We walked, talked, and eventually found cigars I never would have located on my own. That part was of real value—no complaints there.

Afterwards, I offered to buy him lunch as a thank-you. He suggested a small café run by a "friend." The moment we sat down, the tone shifted. Prices were wildly inflated, and before the food even arrived, another friend appeared—this one far more aggressive—pushing a currency exchange I had no interest in. I declined politely. He persisted.

If the freedom of the open road resonates with you, I collected some of that same mindset in my Road Trip Travel Quotes article.

Later, while talking about photography, the original guy mentioned an event happening that night—something he thought I'd want to photograph. It sounded plausible. Interesting, even. So later that evening, I went.

There was no event.

What there was, however, was one of the same sketchy friends from the café, standing nearby, watching. That was enough. No confrontation. No questions. I didn't hesitate—I flagged a cab immediately and relocated to a different part of the city.

Nothing bad happened. That's the point.

The situation never escalated because I trusted my instincts early and acted decisively. Solo travel doesn't require suspicion; it requires awareness. You can appreciate help without surrendering control. You can be open without being naïve.

Trust isn't blind. It's measured. And if something feels off, you don't need confirmation—you need distance.

That instinct has served me well far more often than bravado ever could.

Prepare Deeply—Then Let Go

Solo Travelers need to prepare! It's one of the most underrated tips, especially for photographers.

Before I go anywhere, I research relentlessly. I pin locations. I read about neighbourhoods. I understand cultural rhythms and basic logistics. I always have a detailed itinerary stored on my phone and in paper form, including hotel addresses, places to visit, opening times, and schedules. Using Google Maps helps me navigate new cities confidently and plan my routes effectively. I also research public transport options in advance to maximize convenience and affordability, and I download a cash-tracking or budgeting app to log all my expenses so I don't lose track of my spending. That groundwork gives me freedom once I arrive.

But I never plan every hour of my solo trip.

Some of my strongest images were never planned. They came from wrong turns, quiet streets, and unexpected detours. I've stood in crowds of photographers waiting for a famous shot—and taken it—but the images that resonate most often come from walking one block further than everyone else.

Preparation creates opportunity. Spontaneity creates meaning. Always plan enough time and money in case the unexpected happens.

Pack for Reality, Not Ideals

"Travel light" is lazy advice. I prefer "travel right." However, when traveling solo, it's essential to pack light for a more pleasant experience. Pack with versatile clothing and minimal luggage makes it easier to move around and keeps your belongings secure. Consider packing layers that can be dressed up or down, so you're prepared for changing conditions without overpacking.

When I'm overlanding in remote areas, my vehicle carries everything I might need. When I'm walking through European cities for days on end, my kit shrinks to the essentials: one or two lenses, a compact tripod, and an iPad.

I don't dress for style. I dress to stay warm, dry, and moving. I'll wear the same clothes for days if it means comfort and focus. No photograph has ever improved because my shoes looked good.

I've also restructured my entire workflow around mobility. I no longer carry a laptop. My iPad handles everything I need on the road, from editing to backup. Less weight equals more awareness.

Always Carry an Emergency Layer

I always carry a small, hidden reserve of local currency. Not a lot. Just enough to solve a problem. It's wise to keep an emergency fund of about 100 USD/Euro in local currency, ideally in small bills for easier transactions in local establishments.

Cards fail. ATMs disappear. Entire cities operate differently than expected. In places like Mongolia, cash is a reality. Credit cards are a theory. Alongside your cash, maintain a healthy reserve in your bank account to cover unexpected expenses, and ensure it is accessible for emergencies or insurance reimbursements.

That emergency layer buys options: a ride, a meal, a night indoors. It also buys calm. Knowing you have an exit plan changes how you move through the world.

Information is just as important. In many places, locals—hotel staff, drivers, shop owners—know far more than anything online. Ask. Listen. Adjust.

Stay Healthy on the Road

First Aid Kit

Staying healthy while traveling alone is as much about preparation as it is about presence. Over the years, I've learned that a well-packed first aid kit is as essential as a camera lens—especially when you're a solo traveler in a foreign country. Band-aids, antiseptic wipes, and pain relievers might seem basic, but when you're miles from a pharmacy, they're invaluable. For solo female travelers, this small aid kit can be a quiet reassurance, a reminder that you're ready for whatever the road throws your way.

Walking long days through unfamiliar towns or dense cities—especially across South America—can be exhilarating, but it's also physically demanding. I always carry a refillable water bottle, and I'm cautious about tap water unless I know, without a doubt, that it's safe. Dehydration and food issues end trips faster than bad weather ever will.

Travel Insurance

Travel insurance isn't a box to tick—it's peace of mind. I've seen too many travellers, especially first-timers, caught off guard by a sudden illness or injury, assuming nothing will go wrong until it does. A solid policy isn't about worst-case thinking; it's about knowing you can get proper care when you're far from home.

For my own travel, I rely on the insurance included with my American Express card. It covers what I actually need and removes one more thing to think about when I'm on the road. Whatever route you choose, the important part is having something in place before you go—because the moment you need it is never the moment you want to be figuring it out.

Aware of your Surroundings

Above all, be aware of your surroundings and listen to your body. Take breaks, rest when you need to, and don't push through exhaustion to see one more landmark. Solo travel is a fantastic way to discover your own company, but it's also about taking care of yourself—so you can keep exploring, one healthy step at a time.

Always Have a Working Phone

One of my most practical travelling solo tips is simple: always have a local, fully functioning phone connection. Navigation, communication, translation, transport—it all depends on it. For the cost of a single meal, having reliable mobile data buys you independence and peace of mind.

These days, I rely almost entirely on eSIM packages purchased before I even leave home. On a recent trip through Korea and Japan, I activated one eSIM that covered both countries for an entire month, and it worked flawlessly the moment I landed. No airport kiosks. No SIM swapping. No downtime.

I don't recommend relying on public Wi-Fi anymore. It's inconsistent, often insecure, and useless the moment you actually need your phone to work. A proper mobile connection means I can call an Uber or a taxi, navigate with Google Maps, find a train station, post photos, look up locations on the fly, and—if it ever comes to it—call for help in a medical emergency. That reliability matters far more when you're travelling alone.

Before you go, make sure your phone is unlocked. It's a small detail that can quietly define your entire trip. eSIMs are too affordable now not to have one active on every journey. For solo travel especially, a working phone isn't a luxury—it's part of staying safe, grounded, and mentally at ease while you're on the road.

Stay Connected, Even When You're Not

When I'm travelling solo, staying in touch isn't optional—it's essential. I share locations with my wife. I check in regularly. Not because something will happen, but because if it does, someone knows where to start looking.

When I'm heading into remote areas, I carry a Garmin inReach Mini 2. It's small, unobtrusive, and priceless. While a cell phone is usually my primary communication device, in areas without service, alternatives like satellite messengers are essential to ensure I can always reach someone if needed.

That device isn't about fear. It's about responsibility—to myself and to the people waiting for me to come home.

Battery Power is a Safety Essential

A dead phone isn't an inconvenience. It's a liability.

I learned that the hard way in Istanbul after walking more than 20 kilometres in a single day and running my cell phone completely flat at night. My hotel details, saved locations, and map pins were all trapped inside a device that was suddenly useless. I eventually found my way back, but the stress was entirely self-inflicted.

That experience changed how I travel. Now, I never walk out the door without a small, pocket-sized battery pack and the right cable. It lives in my bag, not my hotel room. That one item means I can top up my phone anywhere—on a bench, in a café, on a curb—before a low battery turns into a problem. My phone, camera, and backup devices stay powered when it matters most.

I still carry a compact power strip with USB ports for the hotel, especially in places where outlets are limited, but that's background infrastructure. The real safeguard during long days on foot is the portable battery you carry. When you're travelling alone, staying powered isn't about convenience—it's about staying functional.

Eat Like a Local, Trust Your Instincts

Food is one of the great rewards of travelling solo—and one of the most overlooked solo travel tips. Dining solo forces you to rely on instinct, and over time, that instinct sharpens. I gravitate toward places that feel lived in: clean, busy, unpretentious. If something looks undercooked or questionable, I move on. Food poisoning is the fastest way to derail even the most carefully planned trip.

In established cities, I'll often use the TripAdvisor app as a starting point, not a rulebook. In Istanbul, I found one exceptional restaurant that way and ended up eating there three separate times—always a good sign. But I still follow the same rule I've relied on for years: if a restaurant is empty or nearly so, I keep walking. If it's packed—especially with locals—it's usually worth stopping. It sounds obvious, but most people ignore it, and in my experience, it's right about 85% of the time.

Some of my strongest food memories came from places that barely qualified as restaurants. In Beijing, I found a tiny food stall—no more than four feet wide—selling Peking duck. I ordered one. The woman chopped it up on the spot, dropped it into a clear plastic bag, and handed it over. I spent the next hour walking the streets, eating duck straight from the bag. To this day, it's still the best Peking duck I've ever had.

In Mexico, I stopped at a man selling chicken out of the back of his car. There was a lineup of locals waiting, which was all the information I needed. It was cheap, simple, and outstanding.

Those moments stick with me far more than meals eaten in polished dining rooms. They were unplanned, grounded in trust and observation, and they pulled me into places tourists rarely linger. They also led to photographs—because real life happens where people actually live.

Know your limits, but don't fear unfamiliarity. Comfort zones don't make memorable meals, and they rarely make memorable images either.

Be Approachable

Being friendly has opened more doors for me than any piece of gear I own.

A smile, patience, and curiosity go a long way—especially when travelling alone. Local people notice when you're respectful. They help when they can. They share things no map will show you.

Solo travel doesn't mean isolation. It means engagement on your terms.

Meet People / Day Tours

Joining walking day tours with like-minded travelers, travel group tours, or local events is a great way for solo travelers to meet fellow travelers and make new friends. In Croatia, I hired a local tour guide and spent the day talking about the city; she was my travel companion. Participating in group activities or classes can help you connect with other solo travelers and like-minded individuals. Pub crawls and walking tours are easy ways to meet people in a new city, aside from hostels. For solo female travelers, meeting other women along the way can provide both social support and added safety.

Give Yourself Time

My final solo travel tip is patience.

When I travel for photography, I arrive early. I let jet lag pass. I walk without shooting. I learn the rhythm of a place before trying to capture it.

Exhaustion dulls perception. Rest sharpens it.

Photography rewards those who slow down enough to notice what others miss. Traveling alone gives you that luxury—if you let it.

Final Thoughts

Solo travel isn't about bravery. It's about attentiveness and alone time. It teaches you how to listen to places, to people, and to yourself.

Travelling solo has a way of giving you real experiences—moments you don't negotiate, curate, or dilute—and that belief in authenticity is precisely how I approach my photography as well, something I expand on in my article Is AI Killing Photography - Why Real Moments Matter, or you might want to explore my newest wall art images.

When you're willing to travel alone, be thoughtful and prepared, the world opens up in ways that aren't possible otherwise. And once you experience that, there's no going back.