A Lady in Venice: The Joys of Traveling Solo
Tuesday, October 6, 2009 at 08:49PM 
I’ve been all over Europe, but I’d been saving Venice for a special occasion. For years I put it aside because either the season wasn’t right (too hot, too cold) or I didn’t have “someone” to go with me. After all, how could I visit with just anyone? I certainly didn’t consider visiting on my own. But last month a conference I attended in Rome just happened to end the day before my 35th birthday and I found an easyJet flight from Rome to Venice for €11, taxes included. How could I not go?
Once I made the decision to go to Venice on my own, people (okay, mostly men) seemed to come out of the woodwork asking if they could join me. But I had actually warmed to the idea of vacationing solo (which is totally different from traveling solo for work), so I stubbornly guarded my independence and happily declared that I was treating myself, and myself alone.
I think we women need to be a bit more selfish when it comes to our vacations, and the best way to do that is to go alone. No need to compromise, discuss or negotiate the itinerary. No haggling over the “price vs comfort” on the hotel. No need to feel guilty for shoe shopping all day, sleeping in, or eating pastries instead of actual food.
Being a travel writer, I’m used to traveling alone for work, so eating and going out “unaccompanied” isn’t new to me. Of course, a woman who’s walking alone around Venice (toting a camera and map) is bound to attract curious stares. The only other solo women I encountered were obviously locals. But contrary to what everyone has ever told me about Venice, no one harassed me, pinched my bottom, or tried to whisk me away on a moonlit gondola ride (I might not have objected to that last one…have you heard those adorable gondoliers sing?).
I did, however, meet a lot of other visitors. Some were also on their own and lost like me (a lot of bonding happens when you’re trying to escape a labyrinth and keep running into each other), others were friends traveling together who were more open to meeting others than the countless couples, who obviously keep to themselves. The great part about being on your own is that you can socialize when you feel like it, and then when you’re ready to head off on your own again, you just do it with a “ciao!” and a friendly wave. You don’t have to make any excuses or apologies, you’ve got your own agenda and they’ve got theirs.
When I told an Italian friend of mine I was going to Venice, he said he hoped I wasn’t going with a boyfriend: “If you’re not married when you go to Venice, you will never marry that person,” he said, totally serious. I reassured him I was going on my own, and he was too shocked to say anything else. At one quiet tavern on the Grand Canal I met a Venetian tour guide (she was eating alone, too, but seemed to know everyone in the restaurant). I asked her if it was true, and she laughed and said, “probably”.
One of the best things about going to Venice alone is that I never have to worry that the wonderful memories of my first trip will be “tainted” by the ghosts of past lovers, which usually occurs when you’ve visited a place with someone and then later break up.
Of course, having a local expert sitting next to me, I couldn’t let her escape without asking the burning question. “What it’s like being a single female in Venice?” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I think it’s a great place for women and couples, but the local population is mostly elderly; the younger men all live on the mainland now because it’s less expensive.” We discussed real estate (expensive for Italy, not so expensive if you’re used to Paris/London/New York/Tokyo prices), the sad state of the alta aqua (in case you didn’t hear, Venice floods regularly), and the number of languages one needs to master to communicate with the endless influx of international visitors (German, Italian, English, and French, for a start).
But practical matters aside, all I could think of were the exotic carnival masks, the romantic singing of the gondoliers, the hidden gardens spied through wrought iron gates, decadent pastries piled high in windows, and the Italians’ appreciation of good food, good wine, and all things beautiful…
“Naughty Venice” anyone?
Reader Comments (2)
I too share your passion for traveling solo - and I had a similar experience as a single woman in Venice for 4 days. I first went to Venice with friends in 1993, then by myself in 2000, and then on my honeymoon in 2007. All three were special trips, but I truly cherish the hours and days alone on the canals, wandering streets shoe shopping and observing such a beautiful city in quietude. I hiked out to the Giardini Pubblici, leaving tourists far behind, and hung out with some dude repainting his boat. After lunch I would take a siesta in my tiny room (converted closet?) and listen to an opera student take her voice lessons. Kudos to you for enjoying yourself, and I can't WAIT for Naughty Venice! Any chance I can help with this one? ;)
We just left Venice and are in Scotland now (we only have seven days left in the Schengen zone until December) and would have loved to have met you.
Since we're traveling with our kids (seven and eleven), it was less naughty and more gelato and pizza -- but amazing and memorable for all of us nonetheless. We all loved Venice -- especially getting lost and ending up in places we would have otherwise never found.
Yes, you should write Naughty Venice. Naughty Edinburgh just doesn't have the same ring to it.