Solo Travel After Loss: Grief & Healing

Updated for 2026 — Accurate as of February 2026.

Twelve months after my mother died, I boarded a flight to Portugal, alone, with a half-packed suitcase and a grief so heavy I could barely breathe. My therapist had suggested movement. My sister had suggested time. My body had suggested numbness for a year, and I was tired of being numb. So I moved.

I did not go to Portugal to “find healing” or “discover myself” or any of the sanitized phrases that wellness culture uses to describe the aftermath of devastating loss. I went because I needed to be somewhere that did not smell like her perfume, where the grocery store did not carry her brand of tea, where every park bench was not the park bench where we used to sit together on Sunday mornings. I went because grief in a familiar place is grief on a loop, and I needed to break the loop.

This guide is written with honesty and care for women who are considering solo travel after the loss of a loved one — a parent, a partner, a child, a friend. It is not a prescription. It is not a promise that travel will fix your pain. It is a companion for those who sense, even through the fog of grief, that movement might help.

When Is It Too Soon to Travel?

There Is No Universal Timeline

The most common question I receive about post-loss travel is “How soon is too soon?” and the honest answer is that there is no universal timeline. I traveled at 12 months. I have met women who traveled at three months and women who waited five years. Neither timeline was wrong.

Signs you might be ready:

• You have moments of wanting to experience something new, even if those moments are brief
• You can handle basic logistics (booking, packing, navigating) without being overwhelmed
• You have a support system you can call if you break down abroad
• You want to travel for yourself, not because someone told you it would help
• You can distinguish between running away from grief and walking alongside it

Signs you might not be ready yet:

• You are unable to care for yourself physically (eating, sleeping, basic hygiene)
• The idea of being alone in an unfamiliar place triggers panic, not curiosity
• You are actively in crisis and have not yet established professional support
• You are traveling to avoid processing grief rather than to process it differently
• Others are pushing you to travel and you feel no internal pull toward it

Important: If you are in active crisis, experiencing suicidal thoughts, or unable to function, please reach out to a mental health professional before booking travel. The 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline (call or text 988 in the US), Crisis Text Line (text HOME to 741741), and your local emergency services are available 24/7. Travel supports healing, but it is not a substitute for professional help when professional help is needed.

How Travel Supports Grief Healing

The Neuroscience of New Environments

There is actual science behind why grief feels different in a new place. Neuroscience research published in the journal Nature Human Behaviour shows that novel environments activate the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex in ways that disrupt repetitive thought patterns. Grief, especially in the early months, is characterized by rumination — the same memories, the same pain, the same neural pathways firing over and over. New environments literally interrupt these loops by forcing your brain to process new information.

This does not mean the grief disappears. It means it moves. Instead of circling the same thoughts in the same kitchen at 3 AM, your grief sits next to you on a train through the Portuguese countryside, and the scenery gives it context. The world is still beautiful, and you are still in pain, and both things can be true at the same time. That coexistence is, itself, a form of healing.

The Physical Component

Grief lives in the body as much as in the mind. The tightness in your chest, the exhaustion, the inability to take a full breath — these are physical manifestations of emotional pain. Travel forces physical engagement: walking, carrying, climbing, breathing outdoor air, adjusting to new temperatures, eating new flavors. This physical engagement helps release the somatic holding patterns that grief creates.

On my third day in Lisbon, I walked seven miles through the city without realizing it. I had not walked more than a few blocks in months. The hills forced me to breathe deeply, and deep breathing broke something loose. I sat on a bench overlooking the Tagus River and cried for an hour. But it was different crying than at home — it was cathartic, not circular. I felt lighter after, not heavier.

The Identity Reclamation

When you lose someone central to your life, you often lose a piece of your identity. You were someone’s wife, someone’s mother, someone’s daughter. Without them, the question “Who am I now?” can feel unanswerable.

Solo travel begins to answer that question through action rather than introspection. You navigate a foreign city — that is who you are, someone capable of navigation. You eat alone in a restaurant and it is not terrible — that is who you are, someone who can be alone without being diminished. You make a decision without consulting anyone — that is who you are, someone who can decide.

These are small proofs of identity, but they accumulate. By the end of my first solo trip, I was not healed, but I was someone: a woman who could travel alone through a foreign country and take care of herself. That was more identity than I had felt in a year.

Choosing Your Destination

What to Look For

Not every destination is right for grief travel. Some places will amplify your pain; others will hold it gently. Here is what I look for:

Gentleness: Destinations with soft landscapes, warm light, and a relaxed pace. Aggressive cities, intense cultures, or chaotic environments can overwhelm a grieving nervous system.

Beauty: Your grief needs something beautiful to look at. Coastlines, gardens, mountains, architecture — beauty does not fix pain, but it gives it a worthy companion.

Safety: Grief reduces your awareness and reaction time. Choose destinations where safety requires minimal vigilance so you can be present with your emotions rather than managing logistics.

Accessibility: This is not the time for adventurous backpacking through countries with unreliable infrastructure. Choose places where getting help (medical, practical, emotional) is straightforward.

Solitude options with proximity to people: You want the option to be alone, but you also want people nearby when the loneliness becomes too much. Small towns near cities, retreat centers, or resorts with communal spaces work well.

Destinations I Recommend for Grief Travel

Destination	Why	Best For
Portugal (Algarve coast)	Soft golden light, gentle people, quiet coastal towns, affordable	Early grief, needing gentleness
Scotland (Highlands)	Vast, ancient landscapes that put loss in perspective	Processing through nature
Japan (Kyoto)	Temples, gardens, tea ceremonies — a culture that honors silence	Finding peace in ritual
New Zealand (South Island)	Otherworldly beauty, incredible safety, spacious solitude	Active grief (hiking, movement)
Italy (Umbria, not Tuscany)	Less touristy, softer, deeply spiritual (Assisi)	Spiritual processing
Iceland	Stark, otherworldly, forces you into the present moment	Grief that needs awe
Bali (Ubud, not beach towns)	Spiritual culture, rice terraces, healing-focused community	Holistic healing approach

Places to Avoid in Early Grief

• Destinations you planned to visit together. Save these for later, when you can experience them without the full weight of “we were supposed to be here.”
• Party destinations. The forced joy of Ibiza or Las Vegas will feel jarring and isolating.
• Extremely challenging destinations. India, Morocco, or other culturally intense destinations require emotional bandwidth you may not have.
• Your person’s home country or cultural homeland. Unless you specifically want to honor them there — but be prepared for the intensity.

Types of Grief Travel

The Walking Trip

Walking is the most healing form of grief travel. The repetitive physical motion, the forced breathing, the slow pace of observation — all of it supports processing.

Recommended walks for grieving women:

• Camino de Santiago (Spain/Portugal): The classic pilgrimage walk. Multiple routes, 100-800 km, accommodating all fitness levels. The Camino has a long tradition of walkers processing loss.
• Cotswold Way (England): 102 miles through gentle English countryside. Well-marked, safe, with villages every few miles for rest and meals.
• Kumano Kodo (Japan): Ancient pilgrimage route through forested mountains. Spiritual, quiet, extraordinarily beautiful.
• Kerry Way (Ireland): 134 miles through coastal and mountain scenery. Remote but safe, with a mystical quality that suits grief.

The Retreat

Structured retreats provide a container for grief processing with professional support:

• Grief-specific retreats: Organizations like Kara Grief, Modern Loss, and Refuge in Grief offer structured retreats for people in active grief
• Silent meditation retreats: Vipassana centers worldwide offer 10-day silent retreats (donation-based). The silence can be profoundly healing.
• Yoga retreats: The physical practice supports somatic release. Choose retreats that advertise trauma-informed teaching.
• Writing retreats: If writing helps you process, structured writing retreats provide both solitude and community.

The Slow Stay

Instead of moving between destinations, stay in one place for 2-4 weeks. Rent an apartment. Establish a routine. Walk the same streets. Become a temporary resident.

I spent three weeks in a small apartment in Porto after my mother died. I walked to the same bakery every morning, sat on the same bench overlooking the Douro River every afternoon, and cooked dinner in my tiny kitchen every evening. The routine was anchoring. The beauty was healing. And being somewhere completely new — where nothing reminded me of what I had lost — gave my brain permission to rest.

Practical Considerations

Emotional Emergency Planning

Before you travel, create an emotional emergency plan:

1. Therapist availability: Confirm that your therapist offers phone or video sessions while you are abroad. Many do, especially since the pandemic normalized telehealth.
2. Crisis contacts: Save international crisis line numbers for your destination country.
3. Trusted person: Designate someone who knows you are grieving and traveling, and who you can call at any hour if you need to talk.
4. Return flexibility: Book refundable flights or travel insurance with “cancel for any reason” coverage. If you need to come home, you need to be able to come home.
5. Self-care supplies: Bring comfort items from home — a blanket, a book, a photo, something that smells familiar.

The “Grief Wave” Protocol

Grief comes in waves, and waves will hit you while traveling. In a museum, at dinner, on a train, at 2 AM in a hotel room. You cannot predict or prevent them.

When a wave hits:

1. Do not fight it. Let it come. Crying in public in most cultures is understood and met with compassion.
2. Find a safe place to sit. A bench, a cafe, a park. You do not need to be moving.
3. Breathe. Four seconds in, four seconds hold, four seconds out. This activates the parasympathetic nervous system and calms the physical panic response.
4. Call someone if you need to. This is what your crisis contacts are for.
5. Be gentle with yourself after. A grief wave is exhausting. Rest, hydrate, eat, and do not expect productivity for the rest of the day if you do not have it in you.

What to Tell People

When you travel after loss, people will ask why you are traveling alone. You do not owe anyone your story. Here are responses for different levels of disclosure:

• Minimal: “I just needed a change of scenery.”
• Moderate: “I lost someone important to me, and I needed some time away.”
• Full: “My [person] died [timeframe] ago, and traveling helps me process.”

All three responses are valid. Use whatever feels right in the moment. I found that on my first trip, I mostly used the minimal response. By my third trip, I was comfortable with the full response, and the conversations that followed were often deeply meaningful.

Honoring Your Person While Traveling

Creating Rituals

Many women who travel after loss find comfort in small rituals that honor their person:

• Carrying a small object that belonged to them. I carried my mother’s silk scarf on every trip for the first year.
• Writing to them in a journal. Telling them what you saw today, what you ate, what you thought about.
• Visiting a place of spiritual significance. Lighting a candle in a church, visiting a temple, sitting in a garden.
• Buying them a small gift. This sounds strange, but several grieving women I met on the road told me they buy small items their person would have loved, as a way of including them in the journey.
• Naming a moment. When you see something beautiful, say their name — aloud or in your heart. “Mom, look at this.” It keeps them present without pretending they are here.

The Trip They Would Have Wanted You to Take

Eventually, you may feel ready to take the trip you had planned together, or visit a destination your person always dreamed of visiting. This can be extraordinarily powerful — a way of completing something together, even though you are physically alone.

When I finally walked through the Alhambra in Granada — a trip my mother and I had planned for her 80th birthday, which she did not reach — I wept through the entire visit. And then I sat in the Generalife gardens, surrounded by the beauty she had dreamed of seeing, and I felt her presence so strongly that the grief became gratitude. She was not there, but I was there for both of us.

Travel after loss is not about moving on. It is about moving with. Carrying your grief alongside new beauty, new experiences, new moments of unexpected joy. It is about proving to yourself that life contains both loss and wonder, and that you have the strength to hold both.

Go when you are ready. Stay home when you are not. There is no wrong answer, and there is no timeline. There is only the quiet voice inside you that says, when it is time, “I think I need to go somewhere.”

Listen to that voice. It knows.

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