Antigua for One: How I First Learned the Joy of Solo Travel

On my first-ever solo vacation, I didn’t expect roommates—especially not the four-legged kind with a job description.

There were signs posted around my resort asking visitors not to pet or feed the community cats. They were employees on security detail, meant to stay hungry for the hunt and keep pests at bay. But there was no way I could resist when two followed me into my room one afternoon and made themselves at home.

They were the only roommates I had on this, my very first solo vacation. I’d certainly traveled by myself before, but mostly for work trips or to conferences, places where I would be joining up with others for scheduled activities. This was my first no-obligation, no-schedule, just-for-fun trip where I didn’t have to consider what anyone else wanted to do, see, or eat.  

Packing light added to the freedom, as well. This was also the first time I traveled with only what could fit in a Jansport backpack. Which was only possible because it was a warm-weather trip with no plans to do more than hang around the pool or on the beach reading a good book. Swimsuits and flip flops don’t take up as much room as sweaters and boots.

It was intoxicatingly freeing to have nothing more than what was on my back to worry about while parking, going through security, and boarding the plane. A welcome drink of rum punch when I breezed into my resort only added to my lightheadedness. 

So, it’s no wonder I fell instantly in love with Antigua.

It’s the largest island in the archipelagic country of Antigua & Barbuda, which is one of the smallest countries in the Caribbean. The earliest settlements on Antigua started way back in 3100 BC, and Christopher Columbus brought with him in the late 1400s a Spanish influence, but also the devastating impact of European diseases. Later, the English fully colonized it in 1632 and held on to control until the island gained independence in 1981. The people evolved their own unique Creole language, but most everyone also speaks English, making it easy for monolingual Americans like me to navigate.

Thanks to one of those great deals I’d found on Travelzoo, I was staying at the five-star Sugar Ridge Resort in a delightful room with a slight view of the ocean and my own private “dipping pool” on the balcony. I found out later from another guest that I could have gotten an even better deal because the resort was part of the Aveda Pure Privilege program - she’d booked her stay for free using points she earned by buying everyone on her Christmas list Aveda products!

I’d arrived in July, expecting summer-season crowds, but was delighted the next day when the resort golf cart dropped me off at a beach that I had practically all to myself. It had white sand, and you could see a variety of beautiful turquoise and electric blue colors when you gazed across the crystal clear water of the Caribbean Sea.

That evening, I enjoyed a sunset view while dining at the resort’s hilltop restaurant as a cacophony of frogs in the surrounding forest did their best to drown out the pianist entertaining us. Over after-dinner drinks at the bar, I allowed myself to be talked into a snorkeling excursion the next day by a local tour operator.

The next day, wind in my hair aboard a catamaran circling the island, I knew I’d made the right call. We stopped to explore a beach where I found a bright orange starfish, and snorkeling let me commune with the multitude of colorful angelfish, blue tangs, and parrotfish that call the area home.

My fellow passengers were a nice bunch, too, but after all that small talk and sun, all I wanted to do for dinner was stay in my room and eat the snacks I’d bought earlier to stock my mini fridge. And I could do that because there was no one I had to please but myself on this trip.

It might be fun to go back with someone one day. There’s a lot I didn’t see while enjoying the luxury of being a resort hermit. It definitely wouldn’t be hard to talk me into going back to Sugar Ridge, but it appears after surviving Hurricane Irma, which barreled through just two months after I was there, the pandemic shutdown did it in. 

Today, it’s been converted into Sugar Ridge Condos. Still beautiful, but no longer the casual, cozy gem I stumbled into that summer. Investing in this property now makes you eligible for the Antigua & Barbuda citizen by investment program. If only I had a spare million dollars, I’d hop on that opportunity.

But my time there was short and sweet. I stuffed my swimsuits and shorts into the old backpack and headed to the airport, where I grabbed some local cinnamon sugar as my souvenir.

When changing planes back in the U.S., I noticed a woman wearing a "Just Married" t-shirt walking alone. Moments later, I spotted her new spouse in a matching shirt, separated by half a dozen people as they navigated the crowded terminal. Despite their celebration of togetherness, they seemed paradoxically apart.

Their adventure together was just beginning, while mine—brief and blissfully solo—was concluding. As I watched them, a realization washed over me: sometimes the loneliest kind of travel isn't solo at all.