I was once a solo traveller

Malecon de Puerto Vallarta Mexico, 2023

A beautiful late Sunday afternoon. The sun is low, our little town is bustling. I am alone. No one by my side, no one in my arms, no little hand in mind.

Today I walk for the sake of walking, with no destination, no time limit.

I walk, just me alone, with my thoughts, feelings and observations. I used to do this all the time.

I stop to eat at a little restaurant. As I sit, I watch the papel picado blowing in the wind outside and the people passing by.

My food arrives and I enjoy the quiet of this moment too.

No tiny fingers picking at my plate, no little feet kicking me under the table. No spills or stains to prevent. I relax and take my time.

A small meal to myself, a mother’s precious alone time.

Older parents will say, “cherish the chaos children bring, for one day they’ll grow up, and you’ll long for it again”.

But, today isn’t about that.

I’m grateful for the rushed meals;

I welcome the little fingers in my plate;

the wriggly body bouncing in my lap;

the joyful giggles that fill our table.

I know they will grow one day,

they’ll eat from their own plates,

sit in their own seats,

the giggling will fade,

and our table will be back to two.

Today I remember the times before, those times that no one tells you to cherish. The times no one warns you will end.

I was once a solo traveller. My days were always like today. Walking lost in my thoughts and observations, always at my own pace.

A group of three young tourists come and sit across from me. I can tell from how they look and chat with each other, how they relax in their chairs, that they’ve travelled a lot, either together or on their own.

I watch them not with envy; I’ve had what they are having, and I loved it.

I was once a solo traveller. A few belongings in my bag. Taking photos of all the beauty I witnessed. And notes of novel experiences I lived.

I was once a solo traveller,

but now I am a guide.

I see the beauty and live the experiences differently now. I see them through their eyes.

I bring them to new places, I show them where to look.

But what they see is their own.

-written by Kathleen