By Janet Barnes
The first time I arrived on a Classic Journeys trip by myself, I remember standing in the hotel lobby, pretending to study a painting so I didn’t look too obvious. This would be my first time traveling on my own. My husband had passed away two years earlier, and none of my friends’ calendars were lining up, and I had finally decided I wasn’t going to put my travel life on hold for another year.
I was excited. I was also nervous. I knew I could handle the flights, but what about the week on the tour? Would everyone else already know someone? Would I have anyone to sit with at dinner? Would I feel safe walking around on my own in a new place?
Fast forward a few days, and I was laughing my way through a village in the Cotswolds with two other women I’d met on the first afternoon. By the end of the week, it was hard to remember who had come with someone else and who had arrived solo. We were just…us.
Since then, I’ve seen more and more women choose to travel this way: solo, but not alone. And there’s a reason so many of them choose women‑only walking tours in particular.
Here’s what I’ve learned, both from my own trips and from countless conversations over breakfast tables and hillside paths.
Safety and ease—without feeling “handled”
Most of the solo women I meet on trips are perfectly capable of traveling independently. They’ve raised kids, run businesses, managed households, and navigated life’s complications. It’s not that they can’t figure out a train schedule or a foreign taxi stand.
It’s that they don’t want to spend their precious vacation days worrying about every practical detail. They want to arrive, exhale, and know that someone has already thought through the logistics: which neighborhoods feel comfortable to walk in at night, which routes are most enjoyable on foot, which hotels are in central, well‑lit locations.
On a women‑only walking tour, that’s baked in. You’re met at the right place, taken to a hotel that’s been vetted a dozen times over, and introduced to a guide who already knows the territory intimately. You still feel like an adult in charge of your own choices—you’re not being herded—but you also don’t lie awake wondering if the alley near your hotel is the best way back after dinner.
For solo women, that kind of ease is priceless.
Instant camaraderie with women who “get it”
There is something uniquely comforting about walking into a room and realizing that everyone there understands why you’ve chosen to travel on your own.
Some of the women I meet are divorced or widowed like me. Some simply realized that if they waited for everyone’s schedules and preferences to align, they’d never go anywhere. We blended well with the others who were traveling with a partner, friend, or family member.
On a women‑only tour, you don’t have to explain or justify any of that. Within an hour, the conversation usually moves from “Where are you from?” to “What brought you here?” and “What are you hoping for on this trip?” And because you’re walking side‑by‑side, not staring at each other across a table, those conversations unspool naturally.
By day three, you know who prefers an early start, who always remembers tissues and hand sanitizer, who can be trusted to order the best thing on the menu, and who is likely to spot the tiny artisan sign on a side street. You form a little ecosystem of strengths.
For a solo woman, that shift—from being “the person traveling alone” to being part of a small, easy group—is one of the most reassuring feelings in the world.
Freedom to be yourself, with no roles to play
One of the quiet joys of traveling solo in a women‑only group is that you get to set down all the roles you usually carry.
At home, many of us are the organizers and caretakers. We’re the ones making sure everyone is fed, on time, packed, and reasonably content. Even on trips with people we love, it’s easy to slip into “Are you okay? Do you like this? Should we do something different?” mode.
On a women‑only walking tour, that weight lifts. You don’t have to manage anyone else’s mood or energy level. You don’t have to negotiate every decision. You can say “I think I’ll skip the extra hill this afternoon and sit in that café with a book” and no one is disappointed; in fact, someone may well join you.
I’ve had days where I talked and walked non‑stop and others where I walked a bit more quietly, just absorbing the landscape. On one trip, I surprised myself by taking a steeper, more challenging path than I thought I could; on another, I surprised myself by saying “no” to something and spending an hour in a tiny bookshop instead. Both felt equally like freedom.
Experiences you couldn’t easily arrange on your own
This is where Classic Journeys, in particular, shines.
As a solo traveler, you can absolutely find wonderful hotels and good restaurants on your own. What’s harder—especially if you don’t speak the local language or have a lot of time—is setting up the kinds of experiences that happen almost effortlessly on a small group walking tour. I have been fortunate the last few years to have been able to travel several times and I continue to have the same feeling of connection with the people we meet and how they stick with me today.
I’m thinking of:
– The morning we spent in a Peruvian weaving cooperative, where women showed us how they spin and dye wool, their hands were hardened by years of work while their movements were precise and delicate. I couldn’t help myself and now have their handicrafts decorating my home office.
– The afternoon in a Cotswolds village, sipping tea with a woman whose family has run the inn for generations, listening to her stories about the old wool merchants and we had an entertaining argument on the proper way to put clotted cream and jam on a scone. I think about them every time I have a scone – or put butter and jam my toast.
– The visit to a women‑run winery in Italy, where we walked through vineyards, then sat down at a long table for lunch and conversation about everything from climate change to gardening to grandchildren. We discussed the way they plant rose bushes along their vines as an early warning system to detect diseases that could affect their vines. Now, every time I pour a nice glass of Chianti, I think of them and their beautiful vineyards.
Could you, as a solo traveler, stumble into some of that? Maybe. But it would take a lot of research, introductions, and luck. On a well‑crafted walking tour, those doors open because relationships have been tended for years. You get to step through them.
Walking is the perfect way to be “solo together”
Finally, there’s the walking itself.
Walking is wonderfully forgiving. You can fall into step with someone and talk for an hour—or drift a few paces behind and let your thoughts wander, knowing there’s a friendly face waiting at the next bend in the path. You don’t have to be “on” all the time.
The rhythm of each day is ideal. You’re moving enough to feel good—heart pumping a bit, joints loosening—but not being pushed into anything that feels like a competition. When there are options (a shorter route, a village loop instead of an extra hill), you choose what feels rightthat day.
And because you’re on foot, you notice more. The shop cat in the doorway. The smell of bread from a bakery that doesn’t appear on any “Top 10” list. A grandmother sweeping her doorstep in the early evening. Those are the kinds of details that solo women tell me they treasure long after they’ve unpacked.
If you’re a woman thinking about traveling on your own, I won’t pretend there isn’t a moment of hesitation. I still feel it a little, every time I book a trip without a familiar face attached to it.
But I’ve also learned this: walking into a women‑only group as a solo traveler is like stepping into a room where someone has already saved you a seat. You’re bringing your own story, your own pace, your own reasons for being there—and you’re also joining a circle of women who are, in their own ways, doing exactly the same.
It’s one of the most reassuring, exhilarating ways I know to see the world. And if you’re even a little bit curious, I’d say this: don’t wait for everyone else to be ready. Lace up your shoes, and come as you are.
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Janet Barnes is a longtime Classic Journeys traveler and writer who loves walking through small villages, lingering over long lunches, and meeting the women who keep local traditions alive. She says she has met “travel-buddies” on some of her tours who now arrange their travel schedules so they can travel together on future tours.
