Every woman I know has a list. It's not written down anywhere official — maybe it's on the back of an envelope, or in the Notes app she accidentally opened instead of the calculator — but it's there. The list of places she's going to go. Someday.
Someday when the kids are grown. Someday when work calms down. Someday when she finds the right travel companion, the right budget, the right time.
Well. The kids are grown. You're retired. And "someday" is starting to sound a lot like "never."
Here's the thing. That list is getting longer. The clock is not.
Why Women Over 60 Are Booking Solo Trips in Record Numbers
If you feel like you're seeing more gray-haired women hauling carry-ons through airports with the confidence of someone who has stopped caring what anyone thinks — you're not imagining it. Tour operators like G Adventures and Road Scholar say women 55 and older are their fastest-growing solo travel segment. Industry estimates suggest solo travel among women 50-plus has grown roughly 30 percent since 2019.
The math isn't complicated. About 34 percent of women 65 and older are widowed, compared to 11 percent of men. "Gray divorce" has roughly doubled since 1990. And retirement means no school calendar, no PTO requests, no begging your boss for an extra Friday.
But here's what nobody talks about: the companion problem. I've been in enough women's groups — book clubs, church circles, that watercolor class I took for three weeks before admitting I have no talent (don't judge me) — to hear the same sentence a hundred times: "I'd love to go, but I don't have anyone to go with."
You have someone. You.
Safety: The Conversation Everyone Wants to Have First
Let's get this out of the way, because I know it's sitting there like an uninvited guest.
Is solo travel safe for a woman over 60? The honest answer is: it depends on where you go, and it's almost certainly safer than you think. The most popular solo destinations for women — Portugal, Japan, Ireland, New Zealand, Costa Rica — rank consistently low on tourist crime. The U.S. State Department publishes free travel advisories that are updated constantly. Level 1 and Level 2 countries are genuinely safe. You can look this up in about four minutes, which is less time than you spent reading the comments section on that Facebook post that scared you.
The real risks are boringly practical. Pickpockets. Missed train connections. Getting turned around in a city where you can't read the street signs. These are inconveniences, not emergencies.
You know what nobody warns you about? The food poisoning. I haven't trusted shrimp since a 2013 cruise that shall not be discussed. Could've happened in Scottsdale.
You have 60-plus years of reading people and reading rooms. That instinct is worth more than any guidebook. A working phone with offline maps downloaded, WhatsApp for check-ins with your people, and a $20 door jammer for your hotel room — that covers about 90 percent of what could go wrong.
The other 10 percent is called a story, and you'll be telling it at dinner parties for years.
Where to Go (Depending on How Brave You're Feeling)
If this is your first solo trip and you want training wheels: Santa Fe, Savannah, Asheville, or the Oregon Coast. Domestic. English-speaking. Good food. Nobody's going to make you negotiate a bus transfer in a language you don't speak. Yet. For more domestic travel ideas, Florida offers senior-friendly destinations with familiar comforts.
If you're ready but watching the budget: Portugal is the answer to a question you didn't know you were asking. Lisbon and Porto are walkable, English is widely spoken, and the food and wine run 30 to 40 percent cheaper than France or Italy. San Miguel de Allende in Mexico has a large American expat community and round-trip flights under $400. Chiang Mai, Thailand, from November to February — you can live beautifully on $50 to $80 a day, and the night markets alone are worth the flight.
If you're treating yourself and you mean it: Japan. I cannot say this firmly enough. It is consistently ranked one of the safest countries in the world for solo women. Single rooms are standard, not an afterthought. Budget $150 to $250 a day, go in cherry blossom season or October, and prepare to fall completely in love with a country that treats courtesy like an art form. Scotland and Ireland are gorgeous in shoulder season — 20 to 30 percent cheaper than peak summer — and if you have any family roots there, the pull is real. For state-side options, explore California destinations or Texas adventures.
Frank, bless his heart, would be happy going to the same lake in Montana every year until one of us dies. I love the man. But I was not put on this earth to look at the same lake 47 times.
The Medical and Packing Conversation Nobody Finds Exciting (But Do It Anyway)
See your doctor six to eight weeks before departure. Get any needed vaccines, refill prescriptions — bring double what you think you'll need — and carry a written list of your medications with generic names. This is not optional. This is the price of admission.
Travel insurance with medical evacuation coverage is non-negotiable. I'm going to say that again because I know some of you just skimmed it. Non-negotiable. Medical evacuation without insurance can cost $50,000 to $150,000. Companies like GeoBlue, Allianz, and MedJet Assist offer solid policies. For a two-week trip, expect to pay roughly $150 to $300 depending on your age and destination.
And here's something most people don't realize: Medicare does not cover you abroad. With rare exceptions, you're on your own outside the U.S. If you have Medigap Plan C or F (or some Plan G policies), they may cover 80 percent of foreign emergency care up to a $50,000 lifetime cap — but check your specific plan before you pack a single sock.
Speaking of packing: carry-on only. I know. I know. But a two-week trip in one bag is absolutely achievable, and it eliminates the lost luggage nightmare entirely. Get yourself an anti-theft crossbody bag — Travelon makes good ones for $40 to $60 — with slash-resistant straps and RFID blocking. Throw the door jammer in there too. You're done.
Booking Without Getting Swindled by the "Solo Supplement"
Here's a dirty little secret of the travel industry: the solo supplement. It's a surcharge — anywhere from 25 to 100 percent on top of the per-person rate — just because you're traveling alone. Because apparently using one pillow instead of two costs extra. (I have opinions. I've earned them.)
How to avoid it: Road Scholar — formerly Elderhostel, which is a name that deserved to be retired — runs educational group tours with roommate matching programs. Overseas Adventure Travel has a "No Single Supplement" guarantee on many departures, and women rave about them. If you want women-only groups, look at Gutsy Travelers or Women Traveling Together.
For flights, book directly with the airline. Always. For hotels, the AARP Travel Center and Costco Travel both offer legitimate discounts. And if you're planning something complicated — multiple countries, trains, internal flights — a travel agent is actually useful again. I know. I was surprised too.
A Road Scholar group tour in Europe runs roughly $3,500 to $5,500 all-in. A passport costs $130 plus $35 at the post office, with standard processing taking six to ten weeks. Expedited is two to three weeks for an extra $60. If you don't have one yet, stop reading this and go handle that today.
"But What Will My Family Say?"
They'll say: "Is it safe?" They'll say: "Why do you need to go alone?" They'll say: "What if something happens?"
Here's what I've learned. The pushback is almost never about your capability. It's about their anxiety. Your children — bless them — have spent their entire lives being protected by you, and the idea that you might need something for yourself short-circuits their wiring a little. Making new friends and embracing independence are important parts of this chapter of life.
My Tom — he's 45, he's an insurance adjuster in Denver, he calculates risk for a living — nearly had a stroke when I mentioned going to Portugal. "Mom, do you even know where the nearest hospital is?" Tom. Sweetheart. I taught high school English for three decades. I survived parent-teacher conferences with your father. I think I can handle Lisbon.
Carrie, my daughter, texted back one word: "FINALLY." Then sent me a packing list. That's my girl.
Give the worriers a job. Send them your hotel names, flight numbers, and a WhatsApp check-in schedule. It makes them feel useful and it makes you reachable. Everybody wins.
But if someone asks "Why do you need to go alone?" — the answer is "Because I want to." That's a full sentence. You don't need to justify it. Women born between 1950 and 1965 absorbed this idea that self-sacrifice was the highest virtue — that wanting something just for yourself was selfish. Solo travel is one very good place to unlearn that.
The Part Where I Get Serious for a Minute
There's a scene in Shirley Valentine — the 1989 movie, and if you haven't seen it, fix that — where Shirley is sitting alone by the water in Greece, drinking wine, and she says she's found herself. She'd been lost for years and hadn't even noticed.
I think about that sometimes. Not because I'm lost. But because there's a version of yourself you only meet when nobody else is around. When you're the one deciding where to eat, which street to turn down, whether to spend an hour in that little museum or skip it and sit in the plaza with a coffee and watch people walk by.
You find out you're good company. That's not a small thing.
So Here's What You Do
You pick a place. You pick a date. You book something — even if it's just the flight. You tell the people who need to know and you smile at the people who think you're crazy.
Something will go wrong. That's in the contract. You'll take a wrong train or eat something questionable or confidently order what you think is chicken and discover it's octopus tentacles (I ate every bite, for the record). And you'll handle it, because you've been handling things your entire life.
Every woman who books the trip makes it a little easier for the next woman to book hers. Your trip is not just for you. It's evidence — for your daughter, your granddaughter, your neighbor, the woman in your book club who keeps saying "someday" — that the list doesn't have to stay a list.
Go. The lake in Montana will still be there when you get back.
