The City That Kept Me Company: My First Solo Trip to Paris

After what felt like 15,000 steps from my hotel, I finally arrived. The crowds are overwhelming, and the heat is almost suffocating, but I sit on a bench and watch the setting sun illuminate the breathtaking monument that is Notre Dame. I’m in Paris! With the rush of getting from the airport, navigating the Metro and speedwalking across the city to squeeze in my itinerary, I had almost forgotten that I was travelling alone. And here I am, sitting across from Notre Dame, all alone. Well, apart from the thousands of people around me.

I must have sat on that bench for at least an hour, I think even the gargoyles perched on the edges of the towers were staring back at me, wondering if I was going to leave soon. I didn’t need to rush or wait on anyone. I could take as long as I wanted. I took in every ornate detail of the architecture, but also the people who surrounded it: couples taking selfies, street performers and tour groups huddled around a guide holding a red flag. There was movement everywhere.

I stop for dinner at a restaurant I remember visiting when I was last in Paris with a close friend. As I was somewhat familiar with it, I tried to use my basic Duolingo knowledge of French on the waiter while ordering. It all goes smoothly, and he even helps me practise. I felt so lucky that he was being so nice, but the interaction shifts, and he asks me out on a date. He must have been at least thirty years older than me. It is an uncomfortable reminder that travelling alone as a woman can sometimes bring unwanted attention. I politely decline, pay the bill and continue my evening.

On my way back to the hotel, I take a leisurely walk along the Seine. I sit by the river and let my feet dangle across the edge, swaying to the music I can hear on a nearby bridge. I smell the damp river air of the Seine, and I can hear people speaking in French all around me. I have no idea what they're saying, of course, but I like listening in on the conversation. Boats pass by with music, and cheers as people embrace the view of the Eiffel Tower. Children laugh as they attempt to get me to do the 6-7 sign. I shamefully give in and laugh along with them. Two different languages and cultures, and yet somehow, that silly joke felt universal.

As the sun sets, it creates a golden light on the rooftops of the city, and you can literally see a shadow lining the buildings like artwork. I think Paris helped me slow down. I’m always in a rush, worried that if I stop for a moment, I’ll miss something. At first, the slower Parisian pace frustrated me, especially when people stopped mid-street to have a conversation. However, after my stroll along the Seine, I realised I had the whole evening with nowhere to go, and no one to see. So why was I rushing it? Why couldn’t I just slow down and take in my surroundings? When I did, I noticed the little details more. 

By the end of the trip, I had started to match the flow of the city. I took more time to eat, watch passersby and enjoy each conversation as I attempted my best French.

As much as I enjoyed my own company, I still found myself sending voice notes to friends back home and sharing photos with my family. I think being alone is not the same as being lonely, but it is human nature to want to share our experiences. Maybe no matter how much we can enjoy being alone, we can't help but crave connection. Between the conversations drifting around me, the music echoing along the Seine and the constant movement of people around me, I never felt completely alone; the city itself seemed to keep me company. 

My solo trip to Paris did not teach me that I never need other people. It taught me that I am capable of enjoying my own company, navigating an unfamiliar city by myself, and slowing down long enough to notice the world around me.

What I want to ask you is: where has been your favourite place to travel, and what has it taught you about yourself?