How Far I'll Go

Braving minus temperatures and discovering the joys of solo travel.

If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me,
One day I'll know
If I go, there's just no telling how far I'll go…

So goes the chorus of one of the main soundtracks of Moana, a brave and beautiful film released nearly a decade earlier. I haven’t watched its sequel yet (it was released just about two months ago). I love the film for its thoughtful exploration of feminism from a children’s perspective. It is Moana alone who can cross the ocean to restore the heart of the goddess Te Fiti. Along the way, she encounters many challenges on her ship; not the least of which is the monster Te Ka, against whom she battles valiantly several times. To regain her inner focus, confidence and balance, Moana invokes her grandmother’s spirit, which impels her forward in the face of the obstacles that are presented to her while she is on her quest.

On my winter holiday across five of Europe’s most beautiful cities (Paris, Munich, Salzburg, Vienna and Prague), I felt a little like Moana.

While agreeing to go on this holiday with a group of girls who were complete strangers, I lacked foresight, practicality and instinct. I suppose some part of me was so relieved to have found a group, any group, to go along with that I never once thought about the practicalities – about how everything would pan out. In all honesty, I’d been afraid that I would spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve holed up in my studio apartment, with nothing but roaring silence for company. This would be a welcome alternative. Or so I thought… (Note: never, ever go in blindly the way I did. Life lessons aside, it simply doesn’t make for an enjoyable experience.)

Without going into the minutiae, let me just say that travelling with strangers was the single most foolish idea to have struck me in recent times. I pride myself on being a mix of intuitive, rational, and organised. This was the complete antithesis of those qualities: since it was a bunch of strangers, I knew absolutely nothing about them except that we were to travel together. I couldn’t make head or tail of the itinerary – in truth, there was no itinerary until after we had reached our destinations. A hectic, sloppy one at that; obviously lifted from Instagram on the spur of the moment. I felt a tremendous personality and values clash with the group; who wanted only to cram all possible things into one day, go clubbing/pubbing at night… all while obsessively documenting every waking moment online (including two outfit changes per day in the sub-zero temperature).

It was the exact opposite of the way I had expected the vacation to be. Perhaps mistakenly, I had expected some semblance of structure and logic, while also factoring in moments of fun and spontaneity. Instead, the entire first half of the trip unfolded like I’d been hurled off a cliff without a parachute, with no ground in sight. It was freefall for six whole days. I felt dizzy, drained, desperate to come back to small-town Foix that I’ve now come to recognise as home. Paris and Munich were a blur (although I saw my very first snowfall in Munich! There were snow-crystals on my coat and a few on my hair, too). I reclaimed time as my own in Salzburg, when I branched out from the group and chose to go, solo, for the original tour of The Sound of Music. It was marvellous and magical. I felt as if I were in a dream. Oh, and on Christmas Day, one of my other very best friends Kaainaat and I ended up unintentionally twinning across continents!

True respite came when my childhood best friend Saniya joined me for the Vienna leg. It was an absolutely knee-melting relief to be out of those girls’ clutches and harebrained manner of living from one wild, edgy moment to the next. In Vienna, I regained my footing – literally and emotionally. Apart from visiting warm cafés with the most delicious hot chocolate and chai lattes, we created some treasured memories together: immersing ourselves in a lovely and lively Christmas market at Schobrunn Palace; a spellbinding western classical music concert in one of the cathedrals; a cruise on the famous Danube river while sampling the yummiest apple strudel and hot chocolate; seeing the city’s landmarks on a hop-on-hop-off bus tour; attending a chocolate-making workshop (I lived my Charlie Bucket moment!). I will be forever grateful to Sanu for being my rescue operator in the most desperate of circumstances. I hope that we create many more unforgettable memories in different parts of the world this year, too.

From Vienna, I continued my journey to Prague. That was the final destination. Sanu flew back to London. Prague was gorgeous, with movie-like blankets of snow over everything. On my mini-solo trip (two days), I went on an extensive tour of the Prague Castle, which seemed as if it were a Disney filmscape brought to life. It being New Year’s Eve, it was impossibly and somewhat unbearably crowded, but I suppose I couldn’t have avoided that… 2.5 hours of history and culture came alive, thanks to our brilliant and energetic tour guide.

My cosy single room with an attached bathroom in Prague deserves a special mention. It was adorable and I fell in love with it immediately. There was a single bed, a table and chair, and a bedside reading lamp. The bathroom had heated racks to place one’s clothes, and the best hot shower. The adjacent restaurant was very good, too. If you ever want to go on a solo trip to Prague and stay at a delightful place close to the airport, Penzion V Mastali is the one for you. The only flutter of apprehension I felt was while leaving for the airport at 3:45am to catch my 7am flight… It was natural, given that it was pitch-dark, without street lights, and it was the most ungodly hour. All’s well that ended well, though. It was a breeze navigating the seamless check-in and security protocols; and catching my connecting flight (after an indulgent Starbucks takeaway breakfast on New Year’s Day) from Brussels to Toulouse. Of course, the final leg of my return journey was my local train from Toulouse to Foix, which takes 1.5 hours.

Phew. Prague-Brussels-Toulouse-Foix: I crisscrossed the entire continent… That was that. Ten days of a winter holiday – six almost-forgettable days, but for the beautiful sights and the aroma of cinnamon-vanilla-nutmeg in the air; four precious and perfect days after a tumultuous storm. This one holiday has taught me such invaluable and intangible lessons about myself – what my traveller-personality is like; how to be social vs solitary; what my tolerance level is; how I can learn to expand my bubble of discomfort bit by bit; my preferred experiences while travelling (slow, selective and immersive, as opposed to a frenetic and rushed checklist of touristy things)… It was the encouragement and gentleness of my tight-knit inner circle from miles away that carried me through to the other side. Bruised, but brave. Moana returned home, to Motunui, with Te Fiti’s restored heart!

Now, I’m taking back control, planning my next vacation: a full-length solo trip to The Netherlands and its neighbouring countries and cities. Making my colour-coded Excel sheet with train/bus schedules; cities; arrival/departure times. Looking forward to the journeys; not simply the destinations. Will I write an essay about that, too? We will see…

Wishing everyone a slow and intentional 2025. Much love.