A single woman traveling alone faces many obstacles that male travelers, couples, families or groups of friends do not. What reminded me of this was another blog where a woman discussed her experiences with Couchsurfing. Couchsurfing is a website where you can offer up your place for someone to stay for a few days for free (with you there) or where you can search for a place to stay for free. Although some of my friends have offered their places for couchsurfers, I have neither offered my place or searched for another myself. The woman on the blog had said that of the 5 men who had hosted her, 2 had expressed an interest in having sex with her before she even arrived at their place, 2 had expressed interest in having sex with her once she was there and the other never mentioned it at all. She said that, once she’d turned them down, they suddenly had little to no time to spend with her in whatever city she was visiting, thus basically ignoring her after being turned down. A guy at work had told me that he recently attended a charity function where another man was aggressively flirting with him, which he tried to avoid as much as possible. “Now I know how women feel!” he commented. When I mentioned that woman’s couchsurfing experience, he then said something like “Well, good luck staying with guys. What does she expect?!” Although he’d just admitted to bonding with women by being unwillingly pursued by a man, in another breath, he basically says that women should EXPECT these things when dealing with the opposite sex! I’ll be honest and say that I usually do NOT usually trust most people; that’s one of the reasons I never bothered to give the Couchsurfing website a try.
On my first trip to Paris, with another female, we were heading back to our hotel in the Montmartre area from Le Quartier Latin via Le Metro. We were unaware that Le Metro shut down at 1:00 a.m. Not only were we were unaware, we also didn’t realize that it would skip all of the stops in between and kick everyone off at the last stop at 1:00 a.m. When we exited Le Metro, we knew at once that we were in a rather unsavory part of town. We hadn’t a clue as to what direction to walk and this was before the days of cell phones, thus we couldn’t Google directions or any such thing. As we were walking along cluelessly, we noticed that several men in cars would flash their headlights at us. We assumed that that was probably a signal to prostitutes to let them know that they were interested. So we ignored all of the flashing headlights and kept walking with our eyes averted. We soon noticed three guys about a block ahead of us, on the same side of the street as us. “What shall we expect here? Rape and/or riot?” I tried to joke. We discussed the possibility of crossing the street, but thought that would make our uncomfortableness even more obvious. As we got closer to them, I instructed my friend to speak quickly and quietly to me, as they might not speak English very well. The 3 guys DID speak English, but no, not well. They asked where we were from. Once we said “Los Angeles,” they started yelling “James Dean” and “Lakers.” What made me nervous is that they tried to get in between us. I quickly (and quietly) told my friend to walk as close to me as possible, which she did. When they asked if we were alone, I gave her THAT look. She told them that her brother was waiting for us at the hotel, but he hadn’t wanted to go shopping and to dinner with us. We were quietly beginning to panic when I noticed a cab about a block and a half away. I whispered to her that we should make a run for the cab on the count of 3. We ran, with the 3 guys chasing after us. We jumped in the cab, one of the guys kept trying to open the door on my side, I kept kicking him out and slamming the door, then we instructed the driver frantically “Allez! Allez!” When he asked where we were going, he didn’t understand my pronunciation of Lamarck-Coulaincourt. As soon as he got us near the Montmartre area and a few streets that we recognized, we told him that it was fine to let us out. We threw a bunch of money in the front seat, to which he said “Oh la la! It’s too much!” We insisted that he keep it for getting us back unscathed.
On another trip, I was in Paris (alone) for one night, traveling from Rome back to San Francisco. When I was walking around near the Pont des Arts that afternoon, an attractive man approached me and asked if he could take me to see some of the sights in Paris. I assured him that I’d been to Paris many times and had seen most of the sights there were to see. He asked if I’d seen them from the back of a motorcycle. Well, that intrigued me, so I agreed to hop on the back of his motorcycle while he drove me around Paris. In truth, it was really fun, although the guy wasn’t French. He was from Croatia, I believe. When he dropped me off at my hotel, he asked if he could take me for drinks that night. I thought it would be fine, so we agreed to meet at a certain time. That evening he didn’t take me for drinks, so much as he bought a bottle of wine and wanted to sit on the banks of the Seine drinking it together. That was fine, but not what I’d had in mind. He then asked if I wanted to see some chateau, one that I’d honestly never seen. I said “Ok” and we took off on the motorcycle. That particular chateau was on the outskirts of Paris. He didn’t exactly take me to the chateau, though, as to a dark and secluded spot in the “bois.” I said as much to him once we’d stopped. His next move was to try and intimidate me a little and ask me if I was scared. “Should I be?” I asked him. I can’t quite remember what his response was, but he alluded to the fact that he might possibly attack me. Nice, huh? Rather than bluff that my hands and feet are lethal weapons, I simply said “All I know is this – I’m not going down without a fight. If by any chance, I DO manage to get the best of you, not only will I take your motorcycle, but I’ll run you over with it and leave you here.” I’m not sure if He was looking down on me or whether the guy thought I’d be too much trouble to deal with, but he decided to take me back to my hotel. Once we got to my hotel, he pushed his way into my room and kept saying that he could give me a massage to relax me. I assured him that if he didn’t leave my room, I’d call the guy at reception and have him forcibly removed from my room. We ended with him insisting on giving me his phone number, in case I “wanted to try it again sometime.” ?!?!
On my first full day in Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia, I’d walked to the main part of downtown, which was quite a distance from my hotel. There was a huge overpass thing, which I had to walk across. It was a sweltering Sunday afternoon and no one seemed to be around. Of course, once I was right in the midst of the overpass, I DID notice someone – a middle-aged man masturbating in broad daylight! When he realized that I saw him, he glared at me as if I was intruding. I kept walking with my eyes straight ahead, trying to act as normal as possible. Believe me, that definitely colored my first impression of Georgetown.
I stayed at two different hotels in Georgetown. In the evening at the first hotel, I’d usually walk to one of the night markets to get some street food, which I’d take back to my room. Although the second hotel was in a much more touristed area, when I would walk in the evening, Muslim men would stare and follow me. They would be so close that it was unnerving. I’ve traveled many, many places alone, so it takes quite a bit to scare me. I felt so uncomfortable, however, that I started getting something to eat and taking it back to my room before 8:00 p.m., not venturing out after that. Staying in my room after the sun sets because I’m afraid is NOT my idea of a great vacation.
Another friend had mentioned to me that, whenever he’d traveled to a Muslim country with a girlfriend, he basically had to act as a bodyguard. His girlfriend could never go out alone without being harassed. A female friend of mine had said that whenever she and another female went out together in Egypt, without their boyfriends, they were followed and harassed, too. Another guy relayed to me that his female friend, when going alone down to breakfast, was not served; can’t remember which country that was in, though.
I WILL say that I’ve NEVER been bothered in my numerous trips to Bali, Hawaii or even New Orleans, as surprising as that might be. I can wear whatever I want (especially in 90 degree weather with high humidity), men have thus far always been gentlemen and everyone has been especially helpful in those 3 places.
These experiences aren’t going to stop me from traveling alone. I refuse to go on any huge tour group or even on a cruise; I want to see things in my own time and stay for as little or as long as pleases me. I want to mingle with local people, but always remain acutely aware of my surroundings. I might have to get a new supply of pepper spray, though…