30-Day Solo Travel in Europe | Day 1: In the Rain of Amsterdam

Starting my first solo adventure in Europe, I feel like a little bird finally leaving its nest—fluttering with equal parts excitement and nervousness. After many days of packing and repacking, I’ve settled on my tiny 21-inch suitcase (funny how it is already full without room for souvenirs). It perfectly illustrates my contradictions: while I dream of wandering like a free-spirited backpacker, I can’t part with essentials like a foldable hairdryer and a kettle for boiling water.

Before I left, a female colleague who often travels solo suggested I write down a brief statement about my reasons for this journey. She mentioned that there might be moments when I feel lost or lonely, or wonder why I’ve put myself in situations I don’t enjoy. Re-reading those words could help me find my courage. So, here are my thoughts, shared with heartfelt honesty.

The two-plus years of the pandemic made me feel trapped and left behind in life. During a book club with friends earlier this year, I expressed how everyone around me seemed to be making significant progress. Friends were studying abroad, getting married after completing their Masters or MBAs, buying new apartments, or having babies. Meanwhile, I felt like a complete loser, stuck in the same place. My career was stagnant, my romantic life was non-existent. And more importantly, I was dissatisfied with who I was. To my surprise, I burst into tears during that book club session, leaving my friends in shock.

Before I turned 30, I made a promise to myself to try something new. I longed to push myself out of my comfort zone, whether that meant studying abroad, working in a new country, or simply travelling alone. Yet, these dreams remained mere thoughts in my head as I never knew how to take that first brave step.

Maybe it has to do with growing up in an Asian family. I was well taken care of by my parents, and as a very obedient daughter, the idea of embarking on a solo trip was hard to fathom. But as I grew older, I realised that no one can be here for you all the time. How much would I miss out on if I waited for a travel companion before I could explore this beautiful world! I wanted to see how far I could go by leaving the haven of my home. So, considering I’m still young and have little to lose, I decided to be a bit reckless. I quit my stable office job and set off on my first solo adventure.

Europe topped my list as the destination for my solo trip. Before I started my journey, many friends and colleagues warned me about how dangerous it is for solo female travellers, with scammers and thieves everywhere. They suggested I start with other Asian countries if I just wanted to get a taste of solo travel. But I was undeterred. The thought of seeing countless artworks and masterpieces in person was enough to excite me and overcome my fears. Just listing the museums I hoped to visit filled me with anticipation: the Van Gogh Museum in the Netherlands, the Louvre in France, the Uffizi Gallery in Italy… To be honest, not many of my friends in Hong Kong enjoy gallery hopping or visiting museums. I’ve come to realise that some journeys are meant to be taken alone. This artistic trip could be a great starting point, allowing me to embrace a new life in the post-pandemic era with a more independent spirit. Deep down, I hope this journey will be a catalyst for becoming the version of myself I aspire to be—confident, independent, and resilient.

Day 1: In the Rain of Amsterdam

Sitting on the Airport Express train, my mind was surprisingly calm. The hesitation and anticipation of recent days suddenly faded away. As my dreams turned into reality, I reminded myself to focus on the present. With my 21-inch suitcase packed for my one-month getaway, I realised just how poor I was at estimating what I needed for this trip. Everyone said my suitcase was too small, yet I insisted on sticking with it. I wanted to be a true traveller, not just a tourist. (In hindsight, I’d recommend getting a bigger suitcase!)

After two long-haul flights, I finally arrived in Amsterdam, only to find the weather colder than expected. As soon as I stepped out of the airport, I was met with a steady drizzle, the rain dropping on my phone screen and blurring the display. My fingers were cold and numb as I awkwardly dragged my suitcase, trying to find my way to the hostel using Google Maps. Despite a few hiccups, I eventually checked into the Generator Hostel, marking my first hostel experience. I had originally sought a private room, but the rates in the Netherlands were a bit pricey. So, I decided to overcome my introverted side and experience hostel living.

Plans didn’t go as expected. I arrived an hour late to the Stedelijk Museum, managing to get inside just 45 minutes before closing. I rushed through the exhibitions, hoping to see as much as I could. I also planned to visit the nearby Moco Museum, but tickets were sold out on Klook. So, I opted for an early dinner and headed back to the hostel.

As the rain got heavier, I randomly picked a restaurant and ordered a burger for dinner. On my first day in Europe, I already found myself missing Chinese food. Back at the hostel, I finally met my two roommates. Unsure about the norms of hostel life, I wondered if it was customary to greet them. In the end, I mustered the courage to introduce myself. The guy in the bottom bunk was from Turkey, running a carpet business in Istanbul, primarily supplying to airports and hotels. He was here for a business trip. The girl in the upper bunk on the other side was from New York, but we didn’t have a chance to get to know each other better.

Feeling exhausted, I surprisingly fell into a deep sleep that night, even as someone who usually takes time to adjust to new beds.

To be continued...