Staff Writer @ TNT Magazine
Publication Date
READ TIME
Solo travel at 40 or beyond is one of the fastest-growing segments in the travel market. The image of the solo traveller as some 18 to 24-year-old with a thirst for adventure and a thirst for shots at 3am is well past its sell-by date. Twenty per cent of solo travellers are now in their 40s, and another 19% are in their 50s. UK travel companies have reported a sharp increase in bookings from older solo travellers who want to “explore on their own terms.”
Maybe you never took a gap year. It didn’t happen at 18, and then it didn’t happen at 25, and at some point the window felt like it had closed. Or maybe you did travel when you were younger, had the time of your life, and then spent the next fifteen or twenty years buried in careers, mortgages, relationships, and the slow accumulation of other people’s schedules. Either way, you’re here now, and the itch is back.
The difference is that now you have money, or at least more of it. You know what you actually like. You can walk into a restaurant alone without needing three friends and a group chat to make it happen. The version of solo travel that works at 40 is not the hostel bunk and the improvised itinerary. It doesn’t need to be. What you want from a trip now is different from what you wanted then, and that’s not a compromise. It’s the whole point.
Now is the time
Why now works better
You know things the 22-year-old version of you did not. You know what you like and dislike. You have a more rounded perspective on the world, and have ticked plenty of destinations off your list.
You know where you want to visit, what experiences you want to have and more importantly, what you don’t want. You crave the misadventure, the unplanned excursion, the spontaneity of changing your plans at the last minute because some bloke in a bar gave you a tip about an event happening the next day.
This is the good stuff. The stumbling into the unknown, finding yourself in a place you didn’t know existed and suddenly you’re looking at property prices and planning your retirement there.
Spontaneous travel in your 20s was chaotic and often led to misery. Those late nights trawling around trying to find accommodation because everyone else had the same idea as you, and all the hostels were full. Or getting stuck in the middle of nowhere because you took a gamble on a hitchhike and thought the destination you’d been offered a lift to was a better transport hub than it turned out to be. You don’t want that seat-of-your-pants travel any more. The risks you took out of naivety in your younger years are not ones you’d take now.
You’re also more confident. You’ve got more experience in life and dealing with people. You’ve put up with enough shit to know you’re not going to let that Prague taxi driver take you on a scenic route and try to rob you ten times more than the fare should have been. You’ve done your research, put together a list of places you actually want to see, and you’ve got a decent phone with 5G in your pocket to deal with anything else on the way. You’ve got a month to fill, a budget to work within, and a credit card for emergencies. This is the time to do it.
F**k That!
What you’re not doing this time
You are not going to inflict the misery of a 12-berth dorm on yourself to save £8 a night. Not this time. You can still get the social side of hostel culture (communal areas, walking tour sign-ups, the kind of easy conversation that solo travel generates) without living in conditions your nan would have recognised from the Blitz, by booking a private room at a hostel or a well-located guesthouse. You can still be frugal with your budget, but you get to retain your dignity and actually sleep. Let’s face it, sleep in your 40s is a far more precious commodity than it was in your 20s.
You are also not constructing an itinerary so tight that the trip becomes a project. The hardest adjustment for anyone who hasn’t travelled alone in a while is allowing the day to open up without filling it. That unstructured Tuesday in an unfamiliar city, the one where you end up at a market you didn’t plan to visit and then a stranger buys you a drink that turns into three hours in a bar you’d never have found on your own. That is the point. Nobody else’s preferences are editing it out.
Hell Yeah
What should you do this time
Don’t overthink it. Part of the adventure is the unknown, and if you try to plan everything you’re missing the point. Too much of a plan will only lead you to the places you’ve researched online, and if you’ve found them on the internet then you can be sure you won’t be the only tourist there. Plan not to plan. Don’t pre-book every night of accommodation. Don’t lock yourself into fixed destination travel. Hire a car, or even better a tuk tuk, and go where the wind takes you. Immerse yourself in local communities. Find a local charity to help out at for a few days. Learn how to cook local food. Go somewhere the tour guides don’t.
Most importantly, slow down. The whole point isn’t rushing around like you do in your normal life. It’s taking time to breathe, to let it all soak in. This is not a quest to tick as many destinations off the list as possible. It’s an opportunity to actually explore these places beyond the constraints of a weekend city break or your summer holiday.
Crunching the numbers
Budget reality
Unless your numbers came in last night, you’re not working with unlimited wealth. Budget realistically. In Southeast Asia, street food runs £1.50 to £3 a meal and decent guesthouses start from £20 a night. A month of good solo travel is achievable on £2,000 to £3,000 all in. Western Europe is considerably more. Portugal remains one of the better value options on that continent, with meals around £8 to £12.
For longer stretches, staying put saves money as well as sanity. Two to three weeks in one place rather than moving every few days cuts transport costs, often unlocks weekly accommodation discounts, and lets you build the kind of local routine that turns a trip into something better than a holiday. Medellín, Chiang Mai, Tbilisi, and Lisbon are all popular long-stay bases in 2026 for good reason.
One thing worth getting right is timing. Travel outside peak season wherever possible. Flights and accommodation are cheaper, the crowds thin out, and you’ll have a far better experience in most destinations when you’re not competing with every other tourist for the same table, the same guesthouse, and the same sunset viewpoint.
Japan Safe, reliable, and culturally unlike anywhere else you’ve been. Public transport runs like clockwork, solo dining is built into the culture (counter seating everywhere, no pity looks from waiters), and crime is so low it barely registers. It’s more expensive than the rest of Asia, but the experience per pound is hard to beat. Budget £100 to £150 a day for a comfortable solo trip.
South Korea Similar to Japan in terms of safety and efficiency but cheaper and less touristy. Seoul is enormous and endlessly interesting, the food is some of the best in Asia, and the KTX bullet trains get you anywhere in the country fast. Jeju Island is worth the side trip. It’s the pick for someone who likes the idea of Japan but wants fewer crowds and a lower bill.
Southeast Asia The classic solo travel region for a reason. Vietnam, Thailand, and Cambodia all have well-established backpacker infrastructure that works just as well for a 40-year-old who wants a private room instead of a bunk. Street food is cheap, internal flights and buses are frequent, and the whole region is set up for people travelling alone. This is the easiest place to start if you haven’t done a solo trip in years.
Mexico Increasingly popular for longer stays and for good reason. The food alone justifies the trip. Oaxaca, Mexico City, and the Yucatán coast are all manageable solo, with good public transport, affordable accommodation, and a street culture that rewards the kind of aimless wandering this piece is trying to talk you into. Cheaper than Europe, warmer than Europe, and better tacos than Europe.
South America Colombia, Argentina, and Peru are the most accessible entry points. Medellín has become one of the go-to long-stay bases for solo travellers worldwide. Buenos Aires is cheap (for now), culturally rich, and has a nightlife scene that doesn’t shut down at midnight. The continent demands more planning than Southeast Asia and the distances are bigger, but the payoff is that you’ll see things that genuinely surprise you.
Europe Portugal for value, the Balkans for the feeling that you’ve gone somewhere most people haven’t thought of yet, and Eastern Europe more broadly for a combination of low costs, good food, and the sense that you’re not just doing the same trip as everyone you know. Western Europe is fine but expensive, and at 40 you’ve probably already done a fair bit of it. Go east.
Peru Yes, Machu Picchu, get it out of your system. But the rest of the country is where it gets interesting. The north coast is barely touched by tourism, Arequipa is one of the best food cities in South America, and the Amazon basin around Iquitos is accessible without the full expedition setup you might expect. Peru rewards the traveller who stays longer than the standard two-week loop.
The Stans Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan. Central Asia is one of the last regions where solo travel still feels like genuine discovery. The Silk Road cities of Uzbekistan (Samarkand, Bukhara, Khiva) are extraordinary. Kyrgyzstan is all mountains, yurts, and hospitality that puts most of Europe to shame. These places are not hard to get to, not dangerous, and not expensive. They’re just not on most people’s radar yet.
The Philippines and Indonesia Both are enormous, both are cheap, and both have enough variety to fill months rather than weeks. The Philippines has some of the best islands in the world and a population that speaks English, which removes most of the friction of solo travel in Asia. Indonesia goes beyond Bali (though Bali is fine as a base). Java, Sulawesi, and Flores are wilder, quieter, and far more interesting if you’re willing to figure out the ferry schedules.
Time flies
How long
The single most important decision is not where. It’s how long. Go longer than you think you should. A week is fine. Three weeks is where the trip actually starts to change you. That means running out of news to catch up on, stopping the twice-a-day check-ins with home, and making decisions purely on the basis of what you feel like doing next. That’s the trip you’ve been putting off. Stop putting it off.
