I’ve never loved group travel. As a person who would be described as hyperindependent, I dislike feeling tethered to others during my trips. I enjoy the freedom of being able to come and go as I please and not having to alter plans to visit a restaurant I may dislike, take an Uber when I prefer taking public transit, or shop at a store that doesn’t carry my size. But in recent years, I’ve tried something in between solo and group travel—a term I’ve coined “solo travel, together.”
Oftentimes, this means traveling with friends but doing so on separate itineraries, staying at different hotels, and pursuing different daily activities on the ground, all with the familiarity and reliability of someone available.
A few years ago, I was on a girls’ trip to Southeast Asia with a friend from college and her best friend, and there were times when the three of us saw each other only in passing. We each had our own agendas: I opted to stay by the beach; my friend explored Bali’s rice fields, and her friend checked off restaurants she’d seen online. We were content to check in via text or a quick thumbs-up to an Instagram story. It was only in the evening, when we’d sit around the fire pit in our villa, that we would catch up. It became a ritual: Someone would order food, another would make the drinks, and I’d light the fire pit. We’d swap stories about our day—the good of finding a quiet beach, the bad of nearly being hit by a car—before calling it a night.
Last year, during a stay at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico with seven friends, we all intentionally carved out our own itineraries. Some were hyperfixated on watersports and spent their time along the shore or on a yacht, while others headed to town to shop. I passed much of my time at the casino. But each friend got to pick a restaurant for each day of our stay, so we would come together for that meal. It was a way to feel connected without being all over each other.
I’m not the only one: According to experts, plenty of travelers are interested in solo traveling together.
Despina Makris, an independent travel agent with Envoyage, has 12 years of experience in the travel industry. Makris says she has done variations of “solo travel, together” herself and also recommends it to her clients. One of her fondest memories was meeting up with friends in London and then continuing to France on her own.
“I loved it because my friends no longer live near me, so I don’t get to see them often, but I couldn’t commit to traveling with them for an extended period of time,” she tells me. “We were able to meet in a city for a couple of days, do some fun things, make memories, and continue on.”
“It’s a great opportunity to connect with friends without the pressure of spending a week or two together and having to compromise on your plans and ideas,” she says.
Lily Nussbaum, a licensed mental health counselor, is a couples therapist at SelfWorks Group in New York City. She believes that while people may have close relationships with friends and family at home, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are compatible travel partners. Travelers, she said, come on trips with their own needs, desires, and anxieties.
“Travel tends to be loaded with expectations,” Nussbaum says. “Everyone just wants to have a good time, but each person’s definition of a good time might be different.”
By choosing to solo travel together, she says, it can alleviate some of the stressors associated with travel. Before a trip with others, she recommends that travelers have conversations about boundaries—specifically, how much time they envision having to themselves and with others.
“It could make for a more relaxing trip for everyone involved,” she says, “and a welcome injection of oxygen into what can sometimes feel like a claustrophobic social experience moving as a unit from one activity to the next.”
