Solitary travel has a peculiar power for those of us who are suited to it. Along with the discovery of one's own true nature and the opportunities to express it comes a corresponding freedom to think thoughts that may be considered odd, threatening, even reprehensible and lunatic, by ones familiar acqaintances. It is perfectly natural that prophets should come out the wildernis bearing revelations, but all prophets are not created equal. Some are giants, some are mediocre, some are of piddling stature, and some are nuts. The difficulty is that neither they nor those that receive there proclamations can really tell untill much later.
Mine is not pure asceticism of a single-handed yachtsman or a Saint-Exupery. There is no lack of people in my journeys, and they are my principal interest. Nor am I a dispassionate voyeur peering into other peoples lives. Strong connections are formed rapidly, and they nourish me. What distinguishes them from my relationships with friends and family at home is the absence of those expectations which I find burdensome and restrictive, demanding that I behave in certain predictable ways. These emotionable transactions trade too heavily on guilt and obligation for my taste. When I travel alone, I experience a sense of freedom that occasionally comes close to ecstacy.
The physical freedom is an important element - the abilty to stay or go as one pleases, to follow whatever the inner voice suggests, is a rare luxury in most lives, and there must be many who have never allowed themselves to experience that inner-directedness -- the compass in the heart. More valuable to me even than that is the freedom to be whoever and whatever you feel yourself to be rather than having to conform to the patterns that others are accustomed to expect.
From the book The Gypsy in Me . i liked the description
