‘Women Travel Solo’ is a bold and beautifully human collection of 30 real-life stories, written by women who dared to set off alone to a dazzling array of destinations – not just to see the world, but to make peace with grief, reclaim joy, chase wildness, face fears, forge empowering new rituals, and begin again. From sailing the high seas on a container ship to hiking through the snow-draped Tibetan Plateau, from sobriety in Ireland to the forests of the Arctic, these are not tales of carefree tourism. They’re powerful testaments to what it means to move through the world as a woman, unaccompanied but deeply present.

The book opens with a foreword by Jessica Nabongo, whose warm and unwavering voice marks the line in the sand that is then determinedly crossed, and erased by all that follows. Having travelled to every country in the world – “… all 193 United Nations members and the two non-member observer states” – Nabongo systematically dismantles the myths that paint the world as unsafe or unwelcoming for women or people of colour. Her story of solo hiking to the Tiger’s Nest monastery in Bhutan – rain soaking her clothes as her guide urges her on (“You must just accept it”) – becomes a metaphor for the power of surrender and presence. “The armour of another person can help us feel confident when we travel,” Nabongo writes, “but what if we are our own armour?”

What follows is a collection of luxurious richness, wisdom, and insight – authentic voices, refreshingly diverse in age, purpose, reason, and motivation – unified by courage and determination to challenge, change and ignore ‘the rules’. Rebecca Hall shares the quiet camaraderie of life aboard a container ship, the only passenger among 30 male crew members, where karaoke with the cook and shared meals form a kind of floating family.

Meri Murphy, a single, retired woman, sets out to see the world, and reminds us that it’s never too late to begin. “I travelled solo at age 29, and again at age 65. Knowing finances and time were the keys to my travel freedom, day one of retirement became my departure date. Seven extraordinary, self-indulgent years as a ‘retired nomad’ ensued, culminating in a miracle.” Lauren Gay travels solo to the Caribbean to face her deepest fear – water – and emerges transformed, braver than she had ever imagined possible.

Other stories speak from places of personal transition. Karla Zimmerman, grieving the loss of her partner Eric, travels solo through her hometown of Chicago and realises she is on a ‘Tour of Sorrow’ of her own city. She weeps into her dosa and chutney at a restaurant they once loved. “Memories are slamming into my brain.” But through tears, she finds flickers of self again: “It’s more subtle. A start, maybe.”

Piera Chen recounts six weeks alone in Sichuan, where she dances at music festivals, eats 100 skewers with an interviewee, and finds joy in meandering solo walks that reconnect her with a precious memory and vision of herself that had been eclipsed, but not forgotten, by motherhood. Lorna Parkes travels through Morocco while pregnant and constantly exhausted, navigating crowded medinas and shared taxis with a heightened sense of physical vulnerability and a deepening trust in the solidarity of local women.

And then there’s Stefania D’Ignoti, who hitchhikes through Mesopotamia; Diana Saverin skijors (skiing while being pulled by three sled dogs) 800km across the Arctic to a remote hot spring; and Deepa Lakshmin, who writes about choosing sobriety while travelling, and discovering that it made the colours of the journey even more vivid.

There’s gentle humour here, too, and quiet relatability, including feeling queasy at the smell of coffee, eating alone while a bartender lectures you about “drinking slow”, or simply navigating a foreign supermarket. These vignettes never overreach or romanticise. Instead, they reveal a truth that many women will recognise – that travelling alone doesn't mean ‘being alone’.

Practically, the book offers gems of wisdom about safety, confidence, and intuition. Nabongo advises new solo travellers to start small – “Take yourself out for dinner or visit a museum alone. Think of these as your solo travel training wheels.” Nabongo also provides a true gem of experience – a clever tip someone once shared with her: “Carry a local newspaper under your arm so people think you live there, even if you don’t look like a local. They will assume you know the language and will be less likely to try to get one over on you!”

Toward the end, readers will also find a succinct, actionable set of expert travel tips for women from the Lonely Planet team, and thoughtful listicles by Emma Sparks –“Five great reasons for women to travel solo” – and Katy McGuinness on one of the biggest challenges of not only life but also travelling solo – “The subtle joy of eating alone”.

Whether you’re a seasoned traveller or still hesitating to take that first step alone, ‘Women Travel Solo’ is a gift. It looks and feels like a book that belongs on your shelf, but also one you’ll want to gift to a friend, a daughter, or someone you know who has the wood, the fire starters, and the scrunched-up newspaper, but not the matches. It speaks to women without condescension, but with empathy, pride, and a knowing wink, and leaves you believing that the road ahead, however mysterious, challenging and uncertain, is yours to walk. Absolutely, and always.