What I Learned from Travelling: Discovering My Resilience
When I decided to travel to Thailand on my own for three weeks, quite a few people told me I was "brave." I hadn’t really seen it that way — I’d dreamed of volunteering with elephants for nearly 40 years, and if travelling solo was what it took, then I was more than ready to put on my big girl pants and go it alone.
Before I left, my biggest worry was the flying. I’m not a huge fan of being in the air — but as it turned out, fate had something else in store. It started with an earthquake. Literally. I landed in Bangkok an hour behind schedule. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m being asked to maintain a holding pattern — no idea why,” said the pilot. The reason? A 6.4-magnitude earthquake.
After thirteen hours on a plane, all I wanted was to check into my carefully chosen city-centre hotel with its rooftop pool and skyline views. But when I went to find my pre-booked taxi, I discovered not only had it been cancelled, but public transport was shut down, and the earliest I could expect a taxi was after a three hour wait — followed by a journey that would take another three (Google Maps had optimistically promised thirty minutes).
I could have shouted and stamped my feet. Others did. But I took a few deep breaths, let go of the plan I’d built up in my head, and found the nearest available hotel — just 2km from the airport. For the record, it wasn’t too bad. And after a decent night’s sleep, the world looked far more manageable.
A week later, I was part way through my stay at Elephant Nature Park (if you ever get the chance to visit Thailand — go. It’s the most humane and beautiful place to be around elephants) when I got bitten by a dog. Not a large bite, but definitely not what you want when you’re alone and far from home. I was shaken and unsure at first, but somehow found myself calmly navigating the local health system, and calmly making a decision about the best course of action, even with low-level anxiety. That moment, especially, showed me just how much inner steadiness I’ve built over the years.
And then, incident number three: my period arrived unexpectedly. Not ideal, but manageable — except I quickly learned that tampons are culturally frowned upon and almost impossible to find in Thailand. A small thing, maybe — but when you’re moving from guesthouse to boat to bus in 35°C heat, it doesn’t feel small. There were moments I wanted to cry (and sometimes did), but even then, I knew I’d be okay.
All of this — the disrupted plans, the discomfort, the unexpected challenges — taught me that resilience isn’t about powering through or pretending you’re fine. It’s about staying with what’s real, meeting each moment as it comes, and moving through it with as much grace as you can.
What really surprised me, though, was how calm I remained through it all. And I know why: my yoga practice. Over the years, yoga has taught me how to pause, how to breathe, how to stay connected to myself — especially when things get messy. It has helped me feel my emotions without getting stuck in them, and to meet discomfort not with panic, but with presence. My family thought I was mad for packing a full-size yoga mat, but I stepped on it every day to move, breathe, and reset. It became a simple, steady ritual that helped me stay calm and resilient, no matter where I was.
So no, Thailand wasn’t the peaceful escape I had envisioned. But it was something much more powerful: a mirror. One that reflected back to me the resilience I’ve cultivated, quietly and steadily, over time. It reminded me that I can handle more than I think — and not just survive, but adapt and keep going.
That’s what I learned from travelling alone.
And I can’t wait to go again.
