My daughter called me "spontaneous" when I told her I'd booked a one-way ticket to Lisbon. She did not mean it as a compliment.
"Mom, you're 70. You don't speak Portuguese. You've never traveled alone internationally. What if something happens?"
"Something wonderful," I told her, "or something I'll have a great story about. Either way, I win."
I hung up, finished packing, and set my out-of-office.
Why I Did It
My husband passed three years ago. For the first year, I barely left the house. The second year, I started going to grief support group. The third year, I realized I'd been living in a kind of suspended animation. Waiting for life to return to normal when, in fact, *this* was normal now.
I'd always wanted to see Portugal. David wasn't much of a traveler. There was always a reason to wait.
I stopped waiting.
The First 48 Hours Were Terrifying
I won't pretend it was immediately magical. I arrived in Lisbon at 6am after a sleepless overnight flight. My luggage was delayed. My hotel room wasn't ready. I sat in the lobby, jet-lagged and slightly panicked, wondering what on earth I'd done.
Then the hotel manager brought me an espresso and a pastry, sat down across from me, and asked where I was from. He spent 20 minutes telling me exactly what to see and what to skip, wrote down the names of restaurants run by his cousins, and arranged for my bags to be sent to my room when they arrived.
That was the moment Portugal got me.
What I Learned About Traveling Alone at 70
**People help you more than you expect.** When you're clearly navigating solo, strangers step up. I was never lost for more than 10 minutes without someone offering directions.
**Slow down and you see more.** Without anyone else's agenda, I spent an entire afternoon in a single square, watching the world go by. I noticed things I'd never have noticed moving at tourist pace.
**Your own company is underrated.** I had dinner alone every night. At first I dreaded it. By the end, I loved it. A book, a glass of local wine, no need to compromise on the restaurant or the hour.
**The fear shrinks when you walk through it.** Every hard moment, the delayed bag, the wrong train, the restaurant that was closed, dissolved into a manageable inconvenience within an hour. None of it was as scary as I'd imagined. And honestly, research increasingly shows that pushing past fear and embracing new experiences can be genuinely good for your health as you age.
I Came Home Different
I was gone for 23 days. I saw Lisbon, Porto, the Algarve coast, and a small village in the Alentejo region, where I spent four days doing absolutely nothing of consequence.
I came home lighter. Not in weight, in worry.
My daughter met me at the airport. She took one look at me and said, "Okay. Where are we going together?"
I'm already planning the answer.
