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Where to Go, What Changes & How to Actually Make It Work
If you’re searching for solo female travel, most of what you’ll find still feels stuck in your 20s. Backpacking. Hostels. Saying yes to everything. Constant movement. A version of travel that’s exciting, but not always sustainable.
Solo travel in your 30s and 40s looks different. Not smaller. Not less bold. Just more intentional. By this point, you’re not trying to prove you can do it. You already know you can. You’re choosing how you want to do it.
For me, this wasn’t a sudden decision. I’ve always been a free spirit. Travel has been part of my life for years, 25+ countries and counting. But those were trips. Always with a return. A version of life waiting at the end.
This time, I chose something else. I’m now travelling in my 40s and honestly, your 40s are just your 30s with better standards.
I left my home in Hackney Wick, London, packed my car, and set off on a continuous road trip across Europe and North Africa with my dog Roly. Not a break. Not a gap year. A lifestyle.
If you want to follow the journey as it unfolds, you can explore all my routes and travel guides, or read more about why I chose this path in my About Us.
This guide isn’t about “how to solo travel.” It’s about what solo travel actually becomes in your 30s and 40s:
Because at this stage, it’s not just about going somewhere new. It’s about choosing a different way to live and having the confidence to follow it through.
Yes, but not in the way most people frame it. It’s not that you do less. It’s that you stop travelling on default settings.
In your 20s, solo travel often runs on momentum. You move quickly. You say yes more easily. You follow routes that already exist.
In your 30s and 40s, that changes. You start noticing different things. Where you stay matters more than where you go. How a place feels in the morning matters more than how it looks when you arrive. And whether you could actually live there for a few days or weeks becomes part of the decision.
That shift really clicked for me once I stopped travelling in trips and started travelling as a lifestyle. When I left London and began this journey with Roly, nothing dramatic changed on the surface. I just started making different decisions. Staying longer. Choosing places based on how they supported my day-to-day life, not just how they looked on a map. Letting go of the need to “fit everything in.”
That’s where the difference actually sits.
What actually changes
You move through places, not just to them
In my 20s, I would have passed through somewhere like Rouen in a day. This time, I stayed. Worked from cafes. Walked the same streets more than once. Let the place settle instead of trying to extract everything from it.
It changes your relationship with a destination completely.
Your standards get clearer
This isn’t about luxury. It’s about alignment. You start choosing based on:
Places like Essaouira in Morocco worked for me because everything connected easily. The pace made sense. It was easy to settle into daily life without overthinking it.
You stop over-planning
The biggest shift for me has been letting the routes unfold naturally. I don’t map everything out in advance. I adjust based on how a place feels once I’m in it. Some places I extend without thinking. Others I leave quickly, even if they looked good on paper.
That flexibility is what makes this sustainable.
What doesn’t change
You’re still figuring things out in real time. You’re still arriving somewhere new where no one knows you.
But the difference is:
The real difference
Solo female travel in your 30s and 40s isn’t loud confidence. It’s quieter than that.
It’s knowing you can build a version of life that works for you in different countries, in different environments, on your own terms.
And once you’ve experienced that, it’s very hard to go back to travelling any other way.
Once travel stops having an endpoint, everything changes.

There’s no itinerary holding your day together. No pressure to “make the most of it.” You wake up… and it’s just a normal day, except you’re somewhere completely different.
That was the first real shift for me, realising the experience wasn’t in the big moments, but in how the day natural unfolds.
The way a place starts to feel once you’ve been there long enough to repeat it. Days start to look like:
In Brixham, it wasn’t about “seeing Devon.” It was mornings at Broadsands Beach. Roly off-lead, locals chatting, the same dogs appearing day after day.
Other days, were spent at Berry Head with open cliffs, sea air, space to think.
A place stops feeling like a stop on a route… and starts feeling like somewhere you actually exist in.
That contrast became clearer the further I travelled.
In Bordeaux, the day tends to organise itself. You move between cafes where you can actually sit and work, long walks along the Garonne river, and neighbourhoods like Chartrons where everything sits within reach. It’s structured without effort. You don’t have to think too much about how your day will run.
Then somewhere like Taghazout flips that completely. Mornings start slower, plans loosen, and the day shifts around the ocean, the light, the people around you. You don’t set the pace in the same way, you respond to it.
Neither is better but when you’re living like this, you feel the difference immediately.
Travel stops being something you step into. It becomes the backdrop to everything else. Some days feel light and open. Others feel like normal life just somewhere new.
And that’s where the shift really happens. You stop asking: What should I see here? And start asking: Does this place actually work for my life right now?
And once you start travelling like that, it’s very hard to go back.

Most guides list the same destinations over and over but the reality is what works depends on how you want your days to feel.
Based on my route so far driving from the UK through France, Spain and Morocco — these are the types of places that have worked, depending on how I wanted my days to feel.
This isn’t a fixed list. It’s a reflection of my routes so far and like everything on The Next Route, it will continue to evolve as I move.
For ease, walkability & everyday flow
If you want somewhere that just works without overthinking it:
These places remove friction. You can walk everywhere. There are trendy cafes where you can sit and work. The day flows without needing structure.
Best for: first-time solo travel, digital nomads
Why they work: everything connects easily. No overthinking required
For culture, contrast & full immersion
These places are layered and often stay with you.
You don’t drift through them, you engage. They’re louder, more intense, more demanding but also memorable.
Best for: confident solo travellers, short immersive stays
Reality: incredible experiences, but not always where you’ll feel most settled
For social energy & meeting people naturally
The biggest question in solo travel: How do you actually meet people?
Some places make this easy without forcing it.
In Rennes, it happened in a courtyard over wine. In Madrid, it’s built into the culture with late nights, shared spaces. In Taghazout, Tamraght & Imsouane it’s the surf-town energy; small, social, open.
Best for: solo travellers who want connection without pressure
Tip: smaller, everyday spaces tend to lead to better conversations than organised events
For nature, space & a full reset
Sometimes you don’t want stimulation. You want space.
These are the places where your day slows down naturally. Long walks. Less noise. Fewer decisions. More time to think.
Best for: solo reflection, dog-friendly travel
Dog note: some of the easiest environments I’ve had with Roly
For affordability that still works day-to-day
Cheap only works if the place still supports your day-to-day. From both my experience:
Lower cost, but still: walkable, good food, places to work, easy lifestyle
Best for: longer-term travel, budget-conscious nomads
Reality: affordability matters less than how the place functions daily
The real takeaway
There is no single “best” destination. There are only places that: fit your lifestyle, match your energy, support how you actually want your days to look and that changes as you move.
Safety is one of the first things people ask about but in practice, it’s less about statistics and more about how a place feels once you’re in it. How you move through it. How much attention it requires. How easily you can settle into your day without overthinking it.
You feel it quickly
Every place gives you signals. Not dramatic ones, small ones.
In Essaouira, it felt easy straight away. Walking through the medina alone didn’t feel intense. People were around, but not intrusive. I could move between the beach and cafes without thinking too much about it.
Then somewhere like Marrakech felt different. Not unsafe but more demanding. More noise, more interaction, more awareness needed. You don’t switch off in the same way. You stay slightly more alert, especially in busier areas or at night.
That difference matters more than any “safety ranking.”
It’s not about danger, it’s about effort
Some places feel easy because they support you.
In San Sebastián, you can walk at night without thinking about it. The city stays active late. There’s a natural social flow.
In Rennes, it felt social without being overwhelming. Conversations happened naturally, without needing to force anything.
That balance; ease without friction is what actually matters.
Your decisions shape your experience more than the place does
Where you stay matters more than what you do. I’ve booked places that looked great online but didn’t work in reality; too far out, nothing walkable, nowhere I actually wanted to sit and spend time.
A good location simplifies everything:
You don’t need to control everything
Most advice overcomplicates solo travel. You don’t need to plan every detail. You don’t need to maximise every day.
Some of the best parts of my trip weren’t planned at all. And equally, if something doesn’t feel right, you leave.
That’s one of the biggest advantages of travelling solo. You can adjust instantly, without negotiating it with anyone else.
Travelling with Roly changed the dynamic
Having Roly with me changes how I move through places. You’re rarely completely alone in the same way. Daily routines, walks, time outside, and moving through neighbourhoods naturally keep you in more open, visible environments.
People approach differently too. Conversations happen more easily. It’s not about feeling “safer” in a traditional sense. It’s about how you experience a place; more connected, more present, and less contained.
What actually matters
Not:
The real takeaway
Solo female travel becomes easier when you stop trying to manage every variable, annd start choosing places, and making decisions, that let you feel comfortable in your own space.
When that’s in place, everything else follows. How you move, how you meet people, and how long you stay.

This is usually what people are really asking. Not where you go but how you actually make this work. Because I’m not travelling instead of working. I’m travelling while building and running my own business.
My work isn’t location-based, it’s global
I work as a freelance Head of E-commerce, supporting start-ups and scale-ups with CRO, website optimisation and growth strategy.
Most of the brands I work with operate across: USA (including Hawaii), UK, Europe, Asia, so my days aren’t tied to one timezone. Some mornings start early for UK clients. Other days stretch later for US calls, and in between that, I’m still moving between countries.
That’s what makes this work. The flexibility is there but the structure has to come from me.
Every location has to pass two filters
I don’t choose places just because they look good. Every location has to work for both Roly and my business.
That means I’m always thinking: Does this actually work for Roly day-to-day? Can I work here properly?
I’m looking for:
That’s why places like Bordeaux work so well, everything supports both sides without friction.
Accommodation decisions are practical, not aesthetic
I don’t book based on how a place looks.
I book based on how it functions. For Roly:
For work:
A place can look great but if those things don’t work, it doesn’t work.
Travelling with a dog shapes the logistics
This is the part people underestimate. You’re constantly thinking about:
Driving changes everything. Routes like UK → France → Spain → Morocco mean I can move at my own pace, stop when needed, and adjust in real time.
Flights don’t give you that flexibility.

The non-negotiable: my work stays consistent
No matter where I am, the standard doesn’t change.
That means:
Some days that’s working from a cafe. Other days from an Airbnb after a long drive. Sometimes restructuring the whole day around a call.
But the work stays stable even when everything else moves.

The reality
There’s no perfect balance. Some days everything aligns.
Others don’t. WiFi isn’t great. The place doesn’t quite work. The setup feels off.
But because I’ve kept everything simple; car, dog, business I can adjust quickly. A way of travelling that works for both me and Roly.
Solo female travel in your 30s and 40s isn’t about chasing destinations. It’s about understanding what actually works for you and having the confidence to build your life around that.
The places matter. The routes matter but over time, something shifts. You stop looking for the “best” places to go, and start recognising the places where your life fits.
Where your days make sense. Where your work holds. Where you feel comfortable moving through it on your own terms.
That’s when it stops feeling like travel, and starts feeling like a way of living you chose and continue to shape as you go.
For city guides and supporting travel logistics, explore all our Travel Guides.
Enjoyed this route? Follow along for the next one.