This solo traveler asks herself: Am I character in a novel pining for a lover to rescue me or my own heroine winning battles and basking in my triumphs?

By Mia Del Rosario-Villarin

I am a hopeless romantic. A fool for fairy tales set in majestic castles and sweeping landscapes, star-crossed lovers, music and poems that speak of yearning and desire. What better place to find all these than in Scotland and Ireland? But how would it be for a solo traveler without a partner to share adventures with? Would I be a character in a novel, pining for a lover to rescue me, or my own heroine winning battles and basking in my triumphs?

Entrancing Edinburgh

Upon arrival, I boarded the bus to the city center. From that very first bus ride, I was entranced by the Edinburgh Castle looming over the city, an imposing, lofty structure in the clouds zooming past my window. I craned my neck until I couldn’t see it anymore. I shook myself off from the dreamlike state as I felt a smile form on my face. I realized I just had one of those moments. In every new place I go to, I experience a surreal moment where I am in disbelief that I am where I am. That point in time is distinct and unmistakable, and I savor that feeling for as long as I can. Getting dropped off in the busiest corner of the city, with people zooming past me as I map my way to my destination is challenging but par for the course. Who has not experienced an attack on their senses when traveling somewhere unfamiliar? But boy, what a glorious sensory overload! The sights going at you a mile a minute, the smells wafting from every direction, the conversations in strange accents or languages. I was open to the lot of it.

So there I was relishing this new experience when I looked up and saw the Scott Monument, all 200 feet of it. I was a speck at the foot of this towering, spired structure but what a welcoming presence for me and all those who visit this magical city.

My days in Edinburgh were filled with endless discoveries. Numerous times, I walked the Royal Mile, called such because it starts at the entrance of Edinburgh Castle and ends at the Palace of the Holyroodhouse. I entered as many closes (alleyways) as I could, leading me to sunlit gardens, charming courtyards, sometimes deadends. I discovered a beautiful cemetery and thought the tranquility would be a nice break from the day. So I decided to explore it and use it as a shortcut home, only to realize I could not find the exit and I was all alone. Well, it wasn’t so calming then.

The day tour out of the city took us to see the impressive Kelpies, the largest equine structure in the world built as a tribute to the horse-powered heritage of Scotland. The last stop for the day was Stirling Castle, considered one of the most important castles in Scotland because of its strategic location. The restored rooms were so detailed that it felt like I stepped back in time, an intruder in court that wasn’t supposed to be there.

The walking tours, which I always do in any new city I visit, are always a wealth of information. The most fun was the Harry Potter tour where the whole group would chant a spell directed at the traffic lights whenever we had to cross the streets. Silly, yes, but everyone with their makeshift wands (sunglasses for me) gladly did it with such aplomb that people around us couldn’t help but laugh along. Walking down Victoria Street, the inspiration for Diagon Alley, was such a delightful treat, it could turn any Muggle into a Potterhead.

I climbed Calton Hill, an extinct volcano with neoclassical monuments set right in the city center. I walked around Dean Village, a picturesque little town located on the banks of the river Leith.

I don’t know why I waited until the last day to visit Edinburgh Castle but I’m glad I did. The whole time I was there, I could see it looming over the city, a reminder that history was not just the past but also unfolding right in the present. It was raining the day I went but somehow that seemed apt. Climbing uphill to enter the gates, with the pitter-patter sound of the rain on my umbrella, I thought, “I finally get to meet you up close.” With my soggy map, I tried to navigate the grounds, it was overwhelming. So vast and staggering. I went inside every room I could, squeezed into every nook and cranny, entered ancient prison cells, even the latrines. I peeked into Mary Queen of Scots’ birthing room, saw the majestic Crown jewels, and learned that they were once hidden beneath a latrine in the prison castle for safety. It was a fitting end to my Edinburgh adventure.

A Robert Burns reading in Glasgow

The agent told me I had 15 minutes to catch the next train to Glasgow. Shocked and panicked, I ran with my carry-on and made it with five minutes to spare. I settled into the cushy seats and barely even finished my snack when the train arrived in Glasgow. The city tour I had in Glasgow was one of the most interesting I’d ever taken. This was mainly due to the guide who introduced himself as a former judge, police officer, and actor, among the many other jobs he’d had. He had a Sean-Connery-Indiana-Jones-Senior way about him, which certainly added flair to his narrative. He even did a Robert Burns reading as part of his spiel which earned him applause from his amused audience.

The Glaswegians are known for their friendly, tongue-in-cheek nature. The city, a UNESCO City of Music, is home to a dynamic art scene. Glasgow’s emblem, an equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington with a traffic cone on his head, was believed to have started in the 1980s as a drunken prank. The city tried to remove it but the cone kept reappearing. After years of this debacle, the city decided to raise the base to deter it from happening again. When this was made public, the citizens launched a movement in protest that was so successful the city council abandoned their idea. The cone has since been a permanent fixture on the Duke’s head.

The Gallery of Modern Art, right behind the Duke’s statue, has a collection of modern pieces housed in a historical building. It’s a wonderful juxtaposition between the old and new. In the basement is a library, where I found myself taking a break from miles of walking. The Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum holds a comprehensive collection of artefacts within its 22 galleries. An organ built in 1901 is one of its central features.

Solo travel teaches me to be more attuned to myself. I hear more clearly the whisperings of my heart.

The amazing street art found scattered around the city surprised me as I turned corners and crossed streets. Splashes of color caught my peripheral vision as I walked around. It was caused by these gigantic images before me, so arresting that it made me stop in my tracks.

The Glasgow Cathedral, the oldest cathedral in Scotland, is also where St. Mungo, Glasgow’s patron saint, is entombed. The church’s interior is a remarkable example of Scottish gothic architecture. Past the cathedral, over a bridge and a small hill, is a Victorian cemetery. With sweeping views of the cathedral and its towering tombstones, the Necropolis cemetery is hauntingly beautiful.

There’s more to Dublin than partying

If fun is what you’re after, Dublin is the place. But there’s so much more to it than partying at Temple Bar. I came for a glimpse of the Book of Kells at Trinity College and the jaw-dropping Long Room that housed 200,000 of the oldest books in its collection. No wonder it was an inspiration for the Jedi Library. I came for St. Patrick’s Cathedral and Christchurch, both magnificent in their own right. I came for Dublin Castle. Although not as stately as other castles I’d visited on this trip, it has a rich history. It was interesting walking through a castle that was currently used for state affairs.

For a day out of Dublin, the definite highlight were the Cliffs of Moher. The day started off bright and sunny, but it started raining when we got to the cliffs. No prayer from our guide, even with her Irish lilt and luck, could dissuade the rain from pouring. The rain fell, the wind howled, flipping my umbrella over. I was soaked to the bone but nothing could dampen my mood, not with cliffs over 500 feet tall in all their glorious state around me. It was in a state of disbelief. I paused and savoured the feeling, saying a little prayer of thanks.

Going solo

Solo travel teaches me to be more attuned to myself. I hear more clearly the whisperings of my heart. It is not without its challenges, but the benefits far outweigh the negatives. A little panic in exchange for feeling empowered and liberated? Easy choice, although sometimes hard to see at the moment of trepidation. I’ve been called brave. I don’t think I am, although I feel strongest when I am by myself in a place I haven’t been before. When someone tells me it’s inspiring, now that’s encouraging. I want every woman no matter what age to feel the way I do. It is never too late to feel empowered, liberated, and confident.

I was definitely the main character in this story and relished the roles I played in every city. I found my inner child enthralled by magic in Edinburgh, the artist in me flourished in Glasgow, and I discovered a more spiritual part of me in Ireland. It’s been said that if you travel far enough you will find yourself. At 53, I’m still growing into the person I was always meant to be and I honestly can’t wait to meet this interesting, fascinating heroine.