Every trip ends the same way.  I walk in my door.  Smell the mustiness of a home unused.  I wheel in my suitcase and stare at the pile of unread mail.

Before long, it is time to sleep, and I say the same thing as I climb into bed: “Hello Tempur-Pedic.  I missed you.”

Yes, I talk to my mattress.  After weeks of sleeping on hotel beds, the first night in my own bed means coming home. 

And when I wake up, no matter how jet lagged I feel, I am grateful to be in my own bed.  I delight in my first cup of coffee at home.  Then oatmeal.  I never eat oatmeal when I travel.

These familiar rituals remind me that while I love to travel, I also love coming home. 

For a long time, travel was an escape from work.  Always interesting and exciting but often with a packed agenda. Now that I am retired, travel feels different.  No escape needed.  It’s a complement to being home-another way to explore the life I am fortunate to have. 

This trip took me to Tuscany, Provence, the south of France and Paris. There were transfers I worried about that worked out fine, unexpected friendships, and cancelled plans that gave me more time to wander.  And then came the heat wave.

The heat really forces you to adjust and slow down.  And that is what I did.

AC is rare in France, so the only cool place was my hotel room.  So, rather than fight the heat by walking around the city, I ventured indoors. I learned that it’s okay to spend the hottest part of the day in my hotel room. To rest. To turn on the television. To let go of the feeling that I should always be out seeing something.  Added bonus- I got to watch the French Open in real time.  A rare treat!

Solo travel has taught me how to be flexible.  How to adapt.  Sometimes the best travel days are the unexpected ones.  The days or nights I haven’t planned for. 

I am still getting used to eating alone in a restaurant.  It is not my favorite thing, but I do it.  After all, I have to eat!  Sometimes I find a seat at the bar and end up talking to people.  At times I sit alone at a table and feel comfortable. Other times it feels awkward.  I’ve learned that a friendly waiter, a conversation with someone at the next table, or simply choosing a seat where life is happening around me can completely change how I feel while eating by myself. 

So, I stay open and receptive. I am constantly learning.

It takes me some time to settle back in before I’m ready to start planning in earnest again.  I have been home now for over a month.  I still smile when I climb into my bed each night. My suitcase has long been unpacked.  My to-do list is a little shorter.  Life has settled back into its familiar rhythm.  But as the urge to plan my next trip surfaces, flights and itineraries fill my brain.

I am thrilled to be home for another few months. And I know that before long, I’ll be saying goodbye to my Tempur-Pedic—and hello to another adventure.

I would love to hear from you. Please email me at latebloomtravel@gmail.com and tell me about your solo travel adventures and feelings about coming home.