Last month I went to Florida for my good friend Rachel’s 40th birthday girls’ trip. By myself. It was pretty awesome.
I was gone for 5 days, and nobody came with me. Zero children. Zero traveling partners. A couple of the girls flew on the same flight, but then the rest of us all just met down there. We went to Anna Maria Island, so most of us flew into Sarasota then took an Uber to the island.
It was the first time I’ve traveled alone since any of the kids were born. Actually, I think it’s the first time I’ve traveled alone since I lived out east. Almost 16 years ago. Crazy.
It was really fun. There were 10 of us in the house we rented, which was right on a little lagoon. It had its own private pool, which was all I was looking forward to. It was a shared townhouse, but we never heard the family on the other side at all. They had their own pool, too, and it was on the opposite side of the house from ours.
We stayed just blocks from the beach, so we walked over there each night to watch the sunset and grab a cocktail. Unfortunately there was really only one beachfront restaurant near us, but we found some other fun places for dinners. We grabbed coffee and breakfast each morning at a little local place, then we either walked to other close-by sandwich or burrito shops for lunches or just snacked by the pool.
I got some sun. I got some sleep. I made new friends. I read 1 entire book! And, surprisingly, I missed everyone back here terribly. I couldn’t help but think the whole time how perfect the place we stayed would be for a family vacation with Ryan and the kids, because it really was.
I couldn’t believe I actually made a solo vacation work! It was a great time with some fantastic people, and I’m so glad I went. It’ll probably happen again in about 20 years. 😀
