Solo Odyssey
There’s beauty to be found in the merging of solo exploration and genuine human connections. Three Beyond writers share their experiences of solo travel, delving into how travelling alone is about taking time for yourself, but also a catalyst for building friendships, connecting with the environment, and reconnecting with your sense of self.
Finding Serenity
WORDS Catherine Best
The sun sets differently at Ningaloo. In the city, it’s extinguished quickly, sucked of its luminance by a rabble of hungry lights; the populace too harried to notice. At Ningaloo, sunset is a burlesque. It begins slowly with creeping shadows and a cooling breath that sweeps across the sea. Slowly, slowly it builds into a foreplay of strobing lights, piercing through a curtain of indifferent clouds. I hold my breath, waiting, hoping. The temptress teases. Twilight is nigh, time is almost up, and then she appears – a scarlet orb, teetering radiant on the doorstep of night. The hem of her skirt meets water. Faster now, she sinks, smouldering on the horizon until gone. But the show’s not over. The sky erupts into an abstract of colour, laying out the red carpet for an encore of glittering stars.
Sitting alone on the beach, my toes digging into the lingering warmth of the sand, I feel an inexplicable connection to this place. There are more than 8 billion people in the universe, but here, right now, in this moment, it’s just me. I’m travelling solo but Ningaloo feels like home.
It's impossible to feel lonely in a place filled with so much life. In the morning, I wake to the sweet pillow-talk song of a pied butcherbird. Breakfast is served in the company of preening corellas, and my morning stroll is marked by the shy twitch of hermit crabs. But it’s in the sea, enveloped by the world’s largest fringing reef, where I’m struck by the magnitude of life. Within 30 seconds of dipping my head under the water, a green sea turtle sidles into view, flippers beating in a cheery wave. Schools of damsel, angel, and butterflyfish dart between antlers of staghorn coral, and a lone flutemouth glides past, its slender body threading the water like a spear.
My most spine-tingling marine life encounters come on a boat cruise, where I swim with reef sharks, manta rays and swarms of bulbous red jellyfish that look like retro lampshades trailing decorative tassels. When the first whale shark appears, I’m wonderstruck. The great titan of the sea moves slowly, gracefully – its sleek, diamond-studded body shimmering in shafts of diffused light. There are 10 of us in the water, led by a guide, but finning alongside this majestic creature, I see no one but the whale shark. It consumes my entire field of vision, silhouetted against a cobalt canvas fizzing with micro-organisms. The universe has again contrived this moment of solitary wonderment where the rest of the world ceases to exist. It’s mindfulness without thinking, therapy that can’t be bought. Healing in nature.
I’d come to Ningaloo seeking restoration in the sanctuary of a luxurious eco-retreat. And I’ve found it in the most unexpected place. Calm comes at Sal Salis, too, found in quiet moments of relaxation in a hammock, and while dozing off to the susurration of the ocean in a beach cabana. At mealtimes, there’s the chance to mingle with strangers on the long communal table, our faces illuminated beneath light globes strung from a sinuous log of driftwood. I could be anyone. Everyone has a story, their own personal journey that has led them here, to Ningaloo. There are the Swiss seniors on a campervanning adventure across the continent. The young corporate highflyers decompressing from the Melbourne (Naarm) bustle. A pair of Brisbane (Meanjin) geologists finding as much wonder in the sea as the land, and a Perth (Boorlo) couple treating their pre-teen to the holiday of a lifetime.
There are daily group excursions, but I’m also happy in the company of nature. On a sunrise hike to Mandu Mandu Gorge, I startle a pair of black-footed rock wallabies scrabbling on the dry riverbed. At an unmarked gravel carpark in Cape Range National Park, I climb a Sahara of glinting-white dunes to a nesting area, where dozens of turtles bob in the shallows. In the evenings, I return to Sal Salis where canapes and sundowners circulate on the deck as humpback whales breach in the distance. Soon the sun will begin its nightly retreat and I have a dilemma. Do I stay on the deck with newfound friends to recount the day’s adventures, or retreat to the beach for a serene solo sunset?
Ningaloo is the perfect place to find peaceful solitude, reconnect with nature and reset your inner balance. Find out more about the Sal Salis experience.
“When the first whale shark appears, I’m wonderstruck. The great titan of the sea moves slowly, gracefully – its sleek, diamond-studded body shimmering in shafts of diffused light.”
Journeying Within
WORDS Natasha Dragun
There’s a moment, as the sun catches my window and sends a blast of rays through the cabin, that I realise just how insignificant I am in this world. Not insignificant in a humiliating way – more in a humbling way, reminding me that Mother Nature rules. The parched red earth The Ghan click-clacks through on its journey from Darwin (Garramilla) to Adelaide (tarntanya wama) has been here for billions of years. It will be here for billions more after I depart. Which is its joy, its gift, its greatness. It’s so completely and absolutely not about me.
There’s really no better place to remind yourself what truly untrammelled wilderness looks and feels like than on this epic trip. It’s one of the most bleakly magnificent landscapes on the planet, from which any familiar sense of perspective quickly evaporates.
I spend countless hours gazing through the glass. There’s nothing here now but red-ochre sand, bluebush, yellow wildflowers and bleached fragments of ancient limestone. That patina has, however, changed dramatically since we left the station in Darwin, Australia’s only tropical capital and a place where sunsets blaze into the Timor Sea.
The fiery colours gradually merge with the silvery greens of Kakadu and Katherine as we head south, where once again I’m reminded of the force of nature while exploring Nitmiluk Gorge – a necklace of 13 linked chasms, carved into steep sandstone cliffs that are coloured with ancient Aboriginal rock art. The Jawoyn people have been here for millennia. For much of our visit, my fellow Ghan companions and I cruise, then walk, in silence. Perhaps, like me, they find it difficult to put the sheer immensity of what we are seeing into words. When we do speak, it’s in hushed whispers – as if we’ll wake the landscapes from their slumber if we raise our voices.
I’d come on this journey solo, wanting and expecting ample time for quiet contemplation. And I get that in spades in my Gold Single cabin, replete with design flourishes that nod to the golden era of travel. What I didn’t expect was to meet so many other travellers – couples, families, groups of friends, other solo adventurists – seeking the same thing. When we gather in the lounge for pre-dinner cocktails, we talk openly and deeply. We speak of experiences that have changed our lives. Perhaps it’s the free-flowing beverages that makes me want to open up to these strangers; perhaps it’s the perspective and levity this journey brings. It’s probably both.
I admire the Northern Territory for its jarring beauty and its tremendous patience, its commitment to the long game, played out on a grand scale over aeons. It’s the wilderness by which all others are measured. It’s always hot, whether you’re at the Top End – closer to Bali than Bondi (Boondi) – or at the Red Centre, where the train chugs alongside the West MacDonnell Ranges (Tjoritja), which rise from the pancake-flat earth like a jagged dragon’s backbone.
By the time we arrive in Alice Springs (Mparntwe) on day two, there’s already a confident comradery among the group. We nod knowingly as we head out on experiences that range from meeting Indigenous artists to gaining a bird’s-eye view of Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park on a scenic flight. Nothing quite prepares you for the drama of this part of Australia, a place where rock formations appear to cleave off the edge of the Earth, and where prickly plants pre-date dinosaurs.
It’s a particularly vivid patina at dusk, when we gather for a special dinner at Alice’s 1872 Telegraph Station. This part of the NT is remote – there are no street lights, no traffic, no high-rises. In the absence of light pollution, the cosmic world overhead becomes a disco ball glittering over our alfresco meal. Wine is poured, fish grills over the open fire, music plays, passengers kick up dust while they dance.
I sleep with my blinds open that last night, wanting to take in the full spectrum of the Milky Way sweeping across the sky.
The Ghan offers the perfect opportunity to form new relationships on a reflective journey across Australia in a Gold Single Cabin. These newly refurbished cabins allow you the privacy to be as quiet or as social as you like.
“I admire the Northern Territory for its jarring beauty and its tremendous patience, its commitment to the long game, played out on a grand scale over eons."
Together Beneath the Stars
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY Alexx Hayward
Imagine falling asleep under a sky so laden with stars you feel sure it must be too heavy to be held up, listening to the gentle lapping of the ocean. This is where I'm lucky enough to be – on a solo Reefsleep adventure. I lie on my Reefbed, which is perfect for resting my sun-kissed skin and tired muscles after a day exploring the underwater ecosystem of the Great Barrier Reef.
As a full-time solo traveler, I’m fairly confident at embarking on epic experiences alone, but I have to say I'm a little apprehensive about heading out to one of the most romantic and remote accommodation options in Australia by myself. If the novelty of being the third wheel (or more like the 13th wheel) wears off, there’s not exactly an easy escape from a permanently moored floating platform 39 nautical miles off the Queensland coast. Of course, my concerns are unfounded. While I start this journey seeking solitude, I return to the mainland instead with a deep connection to the natural world and the souls that share it.
The experience commences with an early morning departure from Airlie Beach aboard the ferry to Hardy Reef. On arrival, we store our overnight gear and have a few hours to join the activities. I opt for aquatic adventures with some solo snorkeling, though my alone time is interrupted by a couple of turtles, loads of parrotfish and Maggie, the giant Maori wrasse who calls Reefworld home.
Once the day visitors disembark, we Reefsleep guests have the entire multi-level reef facility to ourselves. The Reefsuite guests explore their new digs three meters below the surface, while the rest of us are shown to our rooftop tents, like elevated swags, complete with plush bedding, and spectacular ocean views for miles and miles. The horizon stretches infinitely, merging the sea and sky.
Canapés are served around sunset, which is magical, gradually changing from blue to a fiery combo of pinks and oranges. There's an opportunity to mingle with other guests, each with their own stories and paths that lead them here, bringing something different to our melting pot of like-minded, adventure-seeking souls.
By the time our delicious dinner is served, we're all chatting like old friends, the beer and wine (all-inclusive for overnight guests) acting as a social lubricant and keeping conversations flowing. The food is impeccable – pretty impressive given the kitchen is virtually in the middle of the ocean – with Queensland ingredients like Whitsunday prawns, Hervey Bay scallops, and wild barramundi as the heroes of the menu.
As night falls, the Reef transforms into a theater of nature’s finest performances. The marine world buzzes with nocturnal activity, with huge groupers congregating around the platform, providing the Reefsuite guests in particular with an incredible view. But the spectacle isn’t just confined to the water, up above the sky is sprinkled with countless stars, so clear and bright in the absence of any light pollution. The shared experience of marveling at the celestial display, and our collective excitement at the insane clarity of what we're witnessing, is an unforgettable highlight of the trip.
The camaraderie continues into the morning, starting with a hearty breakfast that feels more like a gathering of mates than a group of travelers who have just met. The day’s first adventure is a guided snorkel safari, led by one of Reefworld’s dive guides who seems to know every crevice of the reef and its many marine inhabitants. With seven of us on the lookout, we spot graceful eagle rays, a camouflaged octopus, and a few turtles.
Post-safari there's some free time to wrap up our Reefworld experience. Some guests opt to try out the semi-submersible marine life viewing tour, some enjoy the sun and sea breeze on the top deck, and I opt for a scuba dive.
As we prepare to depart from this secluded slice of paradise, our overnight group buzzes with exchanges of contact info. The experience of Reefsleep is an important reminder that even in the pursuit of solitude, it’s the shared moments of wonder that take a trip from being a fun adventure to an unforgettable chapter in our lives.
Visit Reefsleep to embark on your own solo odyssey, where the journey is just as much about finding connection with others as it is about finding yourself.
“When in the pursuit of solitude, it’s the shared moments of wonder that take a trip from being a fun adventure to an unforgettable chapter in our lives.”