Over the summer I spent 5 weeks travelling across Australia, doing a few group tours and a road trip with a friend from home in the Outback, but a big chunk was spent going solo. As someone who is slightly territorial over her time, I didn’t mind this as it gave me total control. Most of these days were filled with museum trips, scenic runs and getting frozen yogurt. However, no matter if you are halfway across the world, unfortunately men who enjoy invading your personal space, following you from your hostel (yes, this actually happened) and are just generally ignorant are always around.
I would first like to preface this by saying that I absolutely loved solo travelling and would recommend it to anyone who will listen. I also made some amazing friends will going solo, a lot being men, so I don’t want to come across as a misandrist or being overtly negative about travelling in general. However, as women, we sadly must be wary and always on guard, particularly in new places. This article is just to share my experiences, and advice for staying safer when solo travelling as a woman.
Luckily, when I was on my group tour from Brisbane to Cairns, the group was lovely and welcoming; I felt very safe. The hostels we stayed in on the tour separated us in gendered rooms. Most hostels offer female only dorms which I definitely recommend. However, these are usually a bit more expensive, and if you are a bit of a cheapskate like me you want to save every penny possible. My experience with mixed gendered dorms was mostly positive, with other travellers being generally approachable. But at one hostel I had a scarier experience, with the only bed available a bunk on top of an older man’s bottom bunk. This was usually fine, and as this was later on in my travels, I wasn’t initially fazed. However, after I got out of the shower, I was sat on my bed doing my make up, and this man proceeded to get out of his bed and watch me the entire time. I was also wearing a short skirt and was wary he was attempting to look up it. Now technically nothing happened, but my biggest point of advice is to trust your gut. This situation immediately made me feel uncomfortable and I knew even though it was only for one night I didn’t want to stay in that room. I packed my bag and went down to reception. They were really accommodating as all I said was that I felt uncomfortable in my room and wanted to request a women’s only dorm. They changed my room then and there with no extra charge. So, I would completely recommend that if you feel unsafe, ask reception for help as at most hostels they have 24-hour service and are happy to help with any issues.
This brings me onto my next issue, with a follow on from that story: the unwanted sexualisation. I am very comfortable with my sexuality as a lesbian, however whilst I was travelling, I was wary to tell people, which was a big shift from my life at university where I feel completely open. I was cautious not to tell strangers at the beginning of my trip, and if I did, I was usually asked ‘well how did you figure that out?’ or ‘what made you decide to be gay?’. Although these inquisitive questions are technically harmless and usually meant with good intentions, I began to find them demoralising and ended up feeling safer keeping my identity to myself, not wanting it to be a hassle. This in itself is such a sad logic, however I am sure it is a shared experience for many queer people. I wanted to avoid the fetishisation of my sexuality, and not have to educate people on topics that wouldn’t even be questioned if I was straight. I hadn’t realised before travelling how lucky I am to have a safe space at university where I feel so at home in my identity. So, it was difficult to grapple that I couldn’t be open about my sexuality for my safety, and really made me have to consider how to navigate myself in unfamiliar spaces as a queer woman.
This brings me to the night that I had changed my room. I was out with friends I had made on a tour the day previously and they wanted to meet up with some guys they liked. I was happy to play ‘wingwoman’, so I made sure to let these guys know I was a lesbian so there wouldn’t be any miscommunication. I was having a really good conversation with one of them, and as we were all staying at the same hostel, I proceeded to tell him how I had changed rooms that evening and that I was feeling a lot more comfortable. His reaction to this was not ‘oh, that’s so good of the hostel’. No – instead, he proceeded to tell me how much I must love being in a female only dorm if I am a lesbian because then I can ‘easily get lucky’ and ‘check out all the girls’. This caused a shift in our dynamic and I later found out then when I was dancing with one of my friends, he told his friend that ‘maybe she’ll try and kiss her’. As a queer woman who has a majority of female friends, I still worry that I can make other women uncomfortable in regard to my sexuality. Therefore, this comment really upset me, as my initial reaction was fearing that I had made my friend uncomfortable. However, again, the sexualisation and fetishisation of queer women continues, being paired this time with the predatory narrative. In no way was I making my friend feel uneasy, instead someone who hardly knew either of us decided to turn a fun night into his own fantasy.
The main issue I found when solo travelling were that these types of guys would only come up to you when it was very clear you were alone. My hostel in Sydney was my final straw. I think by this point, nearly a month of travelling meant my body had entered fight or flight mode. My social battery was at an all-time low and as I knew I would be meeting up with my friend from home the next day and road-tripping with him, I just wanted to explore the city alone at my own pace. On this morning, it was my last official day in Sydney, and I decided I wanted to fit as many museums as possible in one day (thrilling, I know), and as I left my hostel a guy a bit older than me followed me out and asked me where I was going. Obviously alarm bells immediately went off in my head and I just said I was going to explore, not wanting to give away a clear location. He then tried to ask to do something together, which I replied to by saying I just wanted to be by myself. This wasn’t the smartest idea; if you are solo travelling it’s not ideal to tell strangers you’re alone, instead I would recommend pretending you are going to meet a friend. I, however, was not thinking on my feet and so he continued to follow me and try and walk with me down the street. If I sped up, he sped up to match my pace. Although this was the middle of the day, I was very uncomfortable and honestly scared. So, when we got to some traffic lights I just ran away. Luckily, this was probably the most obvious signal that I was not interested, and he left me alone.
None of these stories are meant to put anyone, particularly other young women and queer people, off solo travelling; I just wanted to give an accurate portrayal. I definitely did have an amazing time, and plan on going solo travelling again in the future. However, these experiences also did really affect me, making me question how I navigate my sexuality even now and how easy it is for men to sexualise women. As most of my uncomfortable experiences were just slightly odd comments or an ‘innocent’ touch here or there, these men could play off that they were just being friendly. I remember telling my mum about an earlier experience with a man, about 40, who was flirting with me in my hostel and asking for my details, and how uncomfortable that made me. Although she did mean well, she played devil’s advocate and said ‘well, maybe he was just being nice’, and ‘he probably felt lonely being an older guy in a hostel’. However, what I would say about all these types of men is that they are not playing the ‘nice guy’ or simply wanting to make friends. They are seeking out women in vulnerable situations, ones that are usually far younger than them. It is upsetting that although these situations did not take up the majority of my trip, I have taken on the emotional burden of them still months later. It is far too normalised for women to have these experiences; I met other girls travelling who were sharing almost the exact same stories, or for men to act this way. There was a clear power imbalance in all of these instances, and unfortunately women never appear to have the upper hand.