I love traveling alone. It isn’t something that comes naturally, even if, like myself, you enjoy being alone.

Traveling alone internationally is another ballgame entirely. It can be intimidating. It can be (but usually isn’t) more dangerous. It’s may be more expensive. It’s potentially more frustrating, as there’s no one to bitch to when things go sideways. And, it can present that altogether unpleasant moment.

Aw jeez, not my lonely brain thinking all the deep thoughts again!

I think solo travel is good for the soul. It’s a way to reconnect with yourself, by doing only the things that most entice and inspire you. It’s a chance to see a city or a village or a town as a kid does, without the needs of another influencing your judgement. Happily selfish, as a two-year-old might teach you.

It’s time out of your comfort zone, be it the five-hour layover or having to engage in conversation with a stranger because you’re lonely. It let’s you miss loved ones, and feel the gratitude when you’re reunited.

Chris was out of town. My parents were on their own vacations. I found a last minute flight to Oaxaca and on a whim, made a hotel reservation. I was off to the airport roughly 10 hours after the idea even popped into my head.

MUSINGS :

I chose a hotel called Pug Seal. It was expensive ($300/night), but very beautiful. I wanted a space that would feel rare and special and a treat. The lobby is open atrium-style with a central water feature. My room was a crumbling expanse, with curated moments in turmeric velvet and a stone rain shower. It was just what I needed in this solo escape. If I returned, I’d stay on the edge of the somewhat-Disney, touristy, trendy Centro area. There were certainly cheaper options farther out, and really ‘farther out’ isn’t far at all. You could wander all of Oaxaca in a few hours.

THE VIBES :

Moments of Quentin Tarantino in the dark markets at dawn. Moments of Wes Anderson in the pastel pink hotel attached to the churro shop. A playground for architecture lovers and those seeking affordable, curbside meals, made memorable in ancient mole recipes and extra-hot salsas. Did I feel safe in Oaxaca? Absolutely. Even at night, I felt fine walking around in well-lit areas, with a large, expensive camera. If you follow big-city rules, you’re fine here.

FAVORITE EXPERIENCE :

My food tour with Club Tengo Hambre! It was a spur-of-the-moment booking that I made on my phone while out for dinner. It departed at 9am the following morning, and our guide Valeria was phenomenal. She’s originally from Oaxaca and is so passionate both about her town and it’s UNESCO-protected food culture. She’s engaging, funny, kind and exceedingly well traveled. I wouldn’t return without messaging her for another tour.

FAVORITE FOOD MOMENT :

The Pan de Muerto, at Criollo. The last morning, I woke up early and wandered west of Centro, into the Santa María del Marquesado neighborhood, a more residential quarter of Oaxaca. I met street dogs and saw incredible street art before heading into this historic, lauded restaurant, where you eat in a courtyard filled with blooming bougainvillea and errant roosters wandering around. Ladies cook tortillas on smoking comals, and when the Pan de Muerto arrived, I was totally in the dark as to how it would taste. I was working on a food story on the black foods of Oaxaca and ordered it to photograph. Tearing off a piece, the bread was light and fluffy, soft and malleable. There were hints of orange in the crumb, and this thing, the size of a grapefruit, was entirely encased in a sugary-smoky black crust. I tried to only eat a third of it, but ended up devouring the whole thing.

WOULDN’T DO AGAIN :

Sadly, the new hotspot Copal didn’t live up to the online hype for me. Yes, the layout is instagram heaven, all dark stone leading into an open-air courtyard with woven lanterns swinging gently against the night sky. The cocktail bar is sultry, with a towering collection of dripping wax candles, and a giant back-lit glowing golden bar. But sitting at the bar is annoying. It’s carved out of a huge stone slab, and there’s nowhere for your knees to go, except against a really rough surface. The crab taco was good but not great. I’d head back for the shredded Oaxacan beef, though, served cold with incredible agua de chili. The Zapote-based, black cocktail was fine. All in all, I’m not unhappy I went, but it’s ultra pricy and often reserved. And, there are just better bites to be had.

Big thank you to Misty Kalkofen for so many wonderful suggestions. Oaxaca, I’ll certainly be back.