I learned how to navigate unfamiliar cities using local transportation, be flexible and independent when crew plans fell through, stay safe and alert while exploring solo, maximise short windows of time (often just a few hours) to soak in culture, food, and sights, and adapt quickly to different customs, climates, and languages. Over time, what started as ‘solo necessity’ turned into ‘solo mastery’! I didn’t just visit places, I experienced them, learned from them, and built a personal connection with the world. That’s the art of solo travel in my experience, and aviation was my classroom.

What do I mean by “being flexible and independent when crew plans fell through”? On layovers, I’m running on minimal sleep. While working with Etihad Airways, my layovers were anywhere from 18 to up to 29 hours, and depending on the time of day or night we landed, I would plan my sleep strategically – enough to rest properly, but also to make sure I had the time and energy to explore the city, high on adrenaline, and secretly dreaming about the local food and sightseeing I’m about to chase.

Now, we (the crew) always say we’ll meet downstairs in “20 minutes max!” after changing into our regular clothes. It’s this unspoken crew tradition – “Let’s explore together!”. But here’s the truth – fatigue hits hard. People crash. Texts get ignored. The lobby stays silent. And me? Well, I learned early not to wait and also not to take it personally. I’d look around, get used quickly that crew had already given up, then I’d slip out the hotel door solo.

Every layover became a sprint against the clock. I’d ride metros and trains in Europe and tuk-tuks in Asia. My phone is full of screenshots of routes, places, phrases. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The world was right there, and I had maybe 24 hours. I walked everywhere. Got lost in local markets, accidentally landed at a tea ceremony in Shanghai, and took a photo every two minutes like my memory couldn’t be trusted. I ate noodles on street corners restaurants, watched sunsets alone on bridges, and always made it back just in time for crew pickup and a new operating flight back to the base. It wasn’t always glamorous like Instagram can suggest – but it was real. Fast-forward moments, filled with blisters, wonder, and the quiet pride of having seen somewhere, truly, even if no one else came with me. So, if you’re traveling solo – whether by choice or by ghosted crew – know this: you're not alone in the solo journey. You’re part of the mile-high explorers’ club.

My very first solo travel experience was when I had just joined the airline in 2013. I had never travelled on my own before that … I was always surrounded either by family or friends. Young and fresh out of training, my first international flight as crew had a layover in Singapore – and it was also the first time I’d ever travelled solo. Talk about a double whammy of nerves and excitement!

We landed in Singapore in the afternoon and after checking in at the hotel, the plan was simple: quick change into regular clothes, meet the crew downstairs in 20 minutes, and go out exploring together. But here’s what I didn’t know back then – sometimes, that “Sure, see you in 20!” is just wishful thinking spoken through tired eyes and aching feet. I waited in the hotel lobby, all dressed, camera charged, sneakers on, heart pounding with excitement. And then … no one showed up. Not one.

At first, I didn’t understand. Did I get the time wrong? The spot? Was I the only one really excited to go out? But eventually I realised – it wasn’t me. The crew had simply crashed. Fatigue, jet lag, the toll of flying … they wanted to go, but their bodies said otherwise. Which I truly understand, we’re on the same boat, doing the same job. So I had a choice – mope or move. I walked to the front desk, smiled politely, and asked, “Hi, can you help me explore your city?” The receptionist was wonderful. They handed me a map, drew a few circles, gave me directions for the MRT (Singapore's Mass Rapid Transit system), and even tips on the best local food.

Off I went. Alone, but not lonely. I zipped across Singapore on trains and cabs, walked for hours, and soaked in the sights like I was pressing ‘fast-forward’ on a travel documentary. I took photos like my life depended on it – part proof, and part preservation of a memory I didn't want to fade.

I always made sure to be back on time. Crew pickup? Never missed it. Rest? Always respected it. Because no matter how short the layover or how packed the adventure, I knew: duty called, and I had a job to do. And that became a pattern. From Seoul to Geneva, Bangkok to New York City, I danced solo through cities while my crew napped or changed their minds. It wasn’t personal. It was just how this life works. Tired bodies. Big dreams. Schedules that rarely align. And me? I kept showing up at the lobby – sometimes alone, sometimes surprised by a fellow explorer – but always ready, making the most of every mile.