On Loneliness and Being Alone

[Written on Sunday 22nd of August.]
I read in a book recently that the mathematicians have made a mistake: 2 + 2 certainly equals 4, but 1 + 1 is worth a lot more than 2. Never have I felt this more strongly than while I'm travelling. The common response when I tell people that I'm travelling alone is 'Wow! You're so brave!' Although this is flattering and possibly true, it entirely misses the point. I did not want to come alone. After experiencing solitary travel in India and while interrailing around Europe, I have been cured of all romantic notions about the 'lone free ranger'. I know all about the 'look at that!' moments, which are instead translated into a silence which fills you up until you forget how to speak normally to other people.
 The first time I returned to Graham Chennells' guesthouse was my second night in eShowe. I'd been invited by my new friends Nattaya and Nontho for a girly night in cooking and watching a movie. Every room triggered an avalanche of half-buried memories: here was the kitchen, where Mary-Jane and Sebe gave me the secret recipe for their wicked Rugby pudding; here the pool table where Kathrine and I were reduced to hysterics by our mutual incompetence; here the lounge where we pushed all the chairs back to listen to Dave one evening when he came to play his guitar for us. It was all still here!
 But some things have changed. Mary-Jane - the wonderful, lovely Mary-Jane - died suddenly one day last September. And now Nattaya is here, Graham's beautiful new Thai girlfriend (not, as I had guessed, a maid working at the house to fund her travels) and she has added her own touches to the house - a hammock here, a massage table there.
 Abruptly, loneliness hit me like a physical blunt object to the back of the head. I sat down, dazed. I ached with longing to be part of that team again, the best and closest team I've ever been a part of.
 This is why the Backpackers', a sociable, communal place with no previous associations, is such a good place to stay. There's usually someone around to talk to, even if it's just Peter the Angry Artist ranting about things going missing in the kitchen.
 But even there, loneliness can pounce at unexpected moments. For instance, on Tuesday afternoon I was quietly planning the Learning Leaders course when twenty-six French teenagers descended on the Backpackers', filling it with laughter and mass lunch preparations. It had the most bizarre effect on me. I felt shy and awkward and self-conscious. I went over and used my rusty French to make conversation, but my nerves made me appear aloof and in any case, I had no hope of breaking into their close-knit group. I retreated to my chair in the corner and wondered what was going on. Then I realised - I wasn't just lonely, I was jealous. Jealous of their chatty, happy, aren't-we-lucky team.
 However, things are improving. This morning the Backpackers' saw off its fourth group of French teenagers this week, and I'm now totally over them. I've also settled into my new life and found a true friend in Jabu the teacher. And the internet serves a crucial function by giving me instant virtual access to my family and friends. I e-mail my mum daily. If I have any interesting insights into the places I see and the things I do, I can share them with everyone on my blog.
 And travelling alone brings its own benefits. I like it that I am in complete control of what I choose to do. People offer more opportunities to a single young girl than to a group. If you're prepared to be spontaneous then your day can develop in new and exciting directions.
 For example, this morning Graham summoned me at 8.15am. I was still in bed but I reckoned it would be worthwhile to listen to the Big Boss's proposal. I was right - half an hour later I had packed my backpack, grabbed my violin and was on the way to Chennells' guesthouse with an invitation to stay for a few days at no extra cost.
 This time, I'm enjoying having some time alone. A week staying at the Backpackers' means I can appreciate the privacy and the well-stocked kitchen cupboards, not to mention the luxurious facilities and gorgeous garden. The only problem is the lack of an internet connection, which is why I'm writing this in a notebook. We'll see how long I last before the withdrawal pains drive me back to civilisation!