
If you had told me a few years ago that Iโd be spending a year traveling solo through South America with my dog, I probably would have laughed. Not because I didnโt think it was possible, but because it feltโฆcomplicated. And thatโs the word that stops most people.
The Myth of โToo Complicatedโ
When people imagine long-term travel, especially internationally, they immediately start mentally listing all the reasons why it would be too hard: logistics, language barriers, safety concerns, financial uncertainty. Add a dog into the mix, and suddenly it feels impossible. But hereโs what I learned: Most things arenโt impossible. Theyโre just unfamiliar.
Reality vs Fear
All in all, my pup and I explored five countries over the course of a year, spending from one to three months in each one. I wonโt sugarcoat it: it requires planning. Just having him with me meant that every international move meant coordinating three different sets of requirements: the country I was leaving, the one we were heading to, and the airline requirements โ and every airline and every country has their own rules.
However, letโs keep it all the way real: that type of coordination is nothing new for most of us. Many of us are already wives and mothers, managing households and simultaneously juggling the conflicting schedules of ourselves and our families. We problem solve in professional spaces and seamlessly move between multiple roles and sets of requirements. We got this!
Solo Doesn’t Mean Alone
One of the biggest misconceptions about solo travel is that itโs isolating, but the reality is often quite the opposite. When youโre alone, youโre more open, observant, and available for connection. Throughout South America, I met other travelers, locals, expats and people I never would have crossed paths with otherwise. Not all of those connections were deep, but many of them were meaningful. Furthermore, there are so many avenues and services specifically designed with solo travelers in mind, to help you connect with other likeminded travelers all over the world. The point is, if you want connection as a solo traveler, itโs not hard to find.
Traveling with my fur baby just added another level of grounding and comfort. Even in unfamiliar places, he gave me structure, companionship, and a sense of home. And honestly? He made it easier to connect with people. I found myself practicing my Spanish with other pet parents, walking their dogs at the park. Plus, nothing beats curling up on the sofa for a Netflix binge with your fur baby, and thatโs in any country!
Little by little, I became more comfortable with uncertainty, and less attached to rigid definitions of โnormalโ, opting instead to define my own version of normal that works for me and fulfills me.
vanea pharr
The Freedom of Self-Directed Living
The biggest shift wasnโt geographic. It was psychological. For the first time, my life wasnโt structured around the expectations of my friends, family, or employers; routines I didnโt choose; or environments I had to tolerate. I could decide where I wanted to be, how long I wanted to stay, and what I wanted my days to look like, as evidenced by the number of times my itinerary changed, even in the midst of execution! Seriously, whole countries got removed, added, or postponed based on whatever came up or whatever I wanted to do at the time. Shakira is performing in Montevideo? Guess Iโm going to visit Uruguay!
That kind of autonomy is powerful.
Challenges (Because yes, they exist)
This wasnโt a perfectly curated experience. Far from it, but that was never what I was going for in the first place. I wanted to live in these different communities like a local, which gave me the opportunity for so many new experiences and discoveries. Nonetheless, there were definitely moments of frustration, fatigue, and logistical stress. Remind me sometime to tell you about the time I had to visit Bolivian embassies in three different Peruvian cities over the course of three days to try to get my tourist visa for my visit or how about the time Milo and I spent a few extra days in Cartagena because my paperwork to take him onto the plane wasnโt quite right! Language barriers are a real thing, even in the digital age with apps for everything. I had to accept that I would be speaking with the vocabulary and language proficiency of a small child, and that was okay! I gave myself grace as a language learner, and I found that others did too.
There were times I questioned what I was doing. When it felt a little crazy. But those moments didnโt outweigh the overall experience. They were part of it. Throughout any of the challenges that came up, I remembered to stay flexible and always ended up being reminded of just how resourceful I am! More than anything, solo travel forces you to develop adaptability, problem-solving, and a deep level of self-trust. You learn very quickly that you can figure things out and navigate unfamiliar spaces just fine. That confidence doesnโt disappear when you stop traveling. It stays with you.
Little by little, I became more comfortable with uncertainty, and less attached to rigid definitions of โnormalโ, opting instead to define my own version of normal that works for me and fulfills me.
Where I Am a Year Later
A year of solo travel isnโt about checking countries off a list. Itโs about proving to yourself that you can navigate unfamiliar places, figure things out as you go, and create a life that doesnโt require constant permission. Itโs about realizing, in real time, that you can build a life that actually fits you insteadโฆnot the version you were handed, and not the one you adjusted yourself to over time, but one that reflects what you want, how you want to live, and who you are when youโre no longer confined to a single definition of โnormal.โ
Once youโve done that, it becomes a lot harder to convince yourself that youโre stuck.
Because now you know better.
