Alone Across Half the World

Sometimes the longest journey leads to self-confidence.

Vancouver, Canada

My solo travel journey didn't begin overnight.

Before I dared to take my first trip alone, I spent many years traveling with other people. I watched, learned, and dreamed of the day when I would be able to plan a trip to another country—or even another continent—on my own.

And honestly, it's a great way to learn.

When you're surrounded by more experienced travelers, you see how they plan routes, navigate airports and unfamiliar cities, and deal with unexpected situations along the way. With every trip, you understand a little more.

But there's one catch.

Understanding something doesn't mean you can do it yourself.

It's very similar to learning English or other foreigh languages. I know this from experience. You can spend years listening to English, reading books, watching movies, and understanding a lot. But you only start speaking when you actually begin to speak.

Travel works the same way.

You can fly with friends, colleagues, or family many times, but real confidence comes when you buy the ticket yourself, plan the route yourself, and take responsibility for every decision along the way.

I've been to Canada about eight times. Yet only my last two trips felt like the moment when I truly learned how to travel across half the world on my own.

I remember flying to Toronto with my colleagues for several years in a row. My English was very limited back then, but that didn't stop me. I really wanted to see Canada, and I was lucky to travel with people who already had plenty of experience.

That's how I learned.

Then came my first trip to Canada with my mom, before the war.

By then, my English had improved a little. I understood that if I dreamed of traveling solo one day, I needed to improve not only my understanding of the language but also my ability to communicate.

That trip became another important step.

The responsibility for the entire journey was on me. I was nervous. I checked everything multiple times, worried about missing connections or making mistakes. Most of all, I wanted the trip to feel easy and stress-free for my mom.

And I managed.

Today it may seem like a small thing, but at the time it felt like a huge achievement. It's these small victories that gradually build confidence and show you that you're capable of more than you think.

Before the war, traveling was much easier.

A trip to Canada looked simple: Boryspil — Vancouver, with a connection somewhere in Europe. Even though it was a long journey, it still felt like one trip.

Today, everything is different.

My route usually looks something like this: Kyiv — Lviv — Warsaw — Amsterdam or Frankfurt — Vancouver.

Different modes of transportation, border crossings, train stations, hotels, taxis, airports, and dozens of small decisions along the way.

And honestly, routes like these are excellent training for any traveler.

So when I finally arrive at Vancouver Airport and realize that I didn't get lost, didn't miss a connection, successfully managed every transfer, and made it across half the world on my own, a wonderful feeling appears.

Every time, there's a sense of pride in making it all the way to Canada.

But even more than that, there's growing confidence.

Confidence that I can handle many more journeys in the future because I've learned how to travel this far on my own.

A couple of years ago, I added one more small habit to these trips across half the world.

Whenever I arrived in Vancouver, I used to rush straight to a taxi and head to my final destination as quickly as possible. The journey from Ukraine to Canada is exhausting, yet for some reason I never allowed myself to pause.

Until one day I did.

I stopped for a coffee at the airport.

Just twenty minutes.

Arriving twenty minutes earlier or later wouldn't change much. But for my energy and well-being, those twenty minutes turned out to be a game changer.

I ordered a coffee, took the first sip, and suddenly felt a sense of completion.

The hardest part of the journey was behind me.

Ahead were hugs from my Canadian girls—my mom, my sister, and my nieces.

And for a moment, I was fully present.

I was here.

Tired because I can't sleep on planes, yet full of energy because travel gives me exactly that feeling of being alive, moving forward, and having the courage to be myself.

Since then, it has become my little ritual: stop, have a coffee, and simply enjoy the moment.

Because sometimes it's not about doing more.

It's about feeling more.

It took me years to learn how to travel on my own.

And it certainly didn't happen on the first try.

In fact, I completely canceled my very first planned solo trip. I had a ticket—and I never boarded the plane.

But that's a story for another time.

Thank you for reading!

Vancouver International Airport. A coconut milk cappuccino. Twenty minutes to pause and savor the moment. ☕