About 10 years before I was officially diagnosed with ADHD and autism—back when I knew there was something different about how my brain worked but I wasn’t sure what (and I was resigned to masking like hell in order to be liked and valued by those around me)—I embarked on my first-ever trip abroad… alone.
It was my first time flying internationally, and I was doing it solo.
My leg bounced so incessantly as I waited for boarding to begin that I remember an older man shooting me a dirty look and moving a few seats away from me.
Amidst all the knee jiggling and seat jostling, I reviewed my post-landing instructions again and again, trying to burn the directions to the bus stop outside of the airport into my brain—along with which bus route I’d need to take once I got there, how many stops it would be until my final destination, and where to find my travel companions once I got there.
I double- and triple-checked that I had anything I could possibly need during my flight packed in my personal item. I gripped my printed boarding pass (this was a long time ago, okay?) so tightly that it began to crumple in my fist, frantically smoothing it back out so the boarding agent could read and scan it, then starting the cycle again.
All of this fidgeting makes my AuDHD seem so obvious in hindsight. I was trying to self-soothe my pre-travel anxiety by latching onto the structure my autism craves, attempting to get ahead of any possible sensory overload I could anticipate. And I was literally bouncing with extra energy because this new international travel experience was lighting up all five of the motivating factors of my interest-based nervous system as an ADHDer: interest, novelty, challenge, urgency, and passion.
Traveling alone as a neurodivergent person can be as daunting as it is exciting, especially when you’re doing it for the first time. It presents some unique challenges, for sure—but after 12+ years of doing it personally and professionally as a travel writer, I’ve come up with a list of tried-and-true practical, actionable tips to make solo travel not just more manageable, but more enjoyable for neurodivergent travelers like me.
Pre-trip planning
Research, research, research!
Consider your upcoming solo trip your new hyper-fixation and do whatever you can to familiarize yourself with your destination to reduce anxiety. A few things I like to do during this phase:
Look into transportation options that might be less crowded or overwhelming to get you to and from your accommodations. Are you staying somewhere that might offer roundtrip airport transfers? Does Uber, Lyft, Sixt, or Bolt exist where you’re going, and if so, are you able to schedule a ride in advance? Are taxis a reliable mode of transportation to your destination, and if so, can you snag one after you land and then schedule a ride back to the airport on the day of your departure? Any of those options will be less stressful than landing in a new place and trying to navigate the local public transit after a long, brain-jumbling flight, so it’s ideal to make a plan ahead of time if you can.
Research sensory-friendly places in your destination. In case you need a break from bright lights or loud noises at any point during your trip, create a list of calm, quiet spaces you can escape to for moments of relief and zen. Think: museums, libraries, parks or trails, spas or baths, and quiet cafes. I like to save these in Google Maps so I can easily grab the directions to them when I’m feeling dysregulated, but you do you!
Use Google Street View to explore the area virtually. I nearly always do this with the hotel I’ll be staying in, so I know what sort of building and facade to look out for when I first arrive in a new place. Sometimes I’ll also do this with any attractions I know for certain that I’ll want to see during my stay so I don’t accidentally walk past them.
Create a flexible “itinerary menu”
I’m 90% sure I just made this term up? But it perfectly describes how my (also neurodivergent) partner and I make our travel plans, whether we’re visiting a new place together or solo.
Basically, instead of creating an itinerary in a timeline format, I create a menu of options to choose from each day with different sections:
TO EAT (this can be restaurants I’d like to visit or dishes/delicacies that the region is known for)
TO DRINK (either specific bars I want to check out or local beverages I know I’d like to try)
TO SEE (popular landmarks or well-known sight-seeing spots in the area that I’d feel silly missing during my trip)
TO DO (unique activities the destination is known for or that I might not be able to do somewhere else in the world)
Once I’ve filled up each section, I basically wake up each day and evaluate how I’m feeling, and how many things I think I have the capacity to do that day, and based on that, I choose an item or two from each section of the menu and consider that my itinerary for the day.
This allows me to plan a general outline of my day with key activities I’m excited about, but still leave space for rest or changes in plans, helping to strike a balance between having a plan and embracing spontaneity. And it means there’s always downtime in my schedule while traveling so I can avoid burnout. The last thing I need is to get home from this trip and feel like I need a vacation from my vacation!
Pack for your needs
If you’re not properly prepared, travel can be a sensory nightmare—which is why it’s so crucial to be intentional about packing essentials that cater to your sensory needs and comfort as a neurodivergent traveler.
Think about what makes you want to scream while navigating the world outside of your home and comfort zone. Do repetitive sounds make you want to tear your hair out? Bring noise-canceling headphones! Are you sensitive to certain foods? Pack safety snacks!
I’ve spent the last decade carefully crafting the ideal sensory-friendly personal item packing list, which has helped me maintain a semblance of comfort and sanity through 10+ years of long-haul flights and lengthy layovers. Here’s every single thing I pack in my personal item to make flights suck less and to make traveling as a whole more comfortable for me—printable checklist included.
Navigating new environments
Manage sensory overload
When I’m in overwhelming environments like airports, noisy restaurants, or crowded streets, I often find myself staring down the barrel of dysregulation—so to get ahead of that and avoid distress, I prepare by:
Wearing sunglasses or a hat to reduce visual stimuli when walking around, or wearing a sleep mask to do the same while stationary on my flight or at my accommodations
Using earplugs or noise-canceling headphones to create a calm little auditory bubble for myself (pro tip: the Stress Relief playlist on Spotify slaps when it comes to this)
Researching quiet areas ahead of time so I know where I can go if things get to be too much (does the airport have a yoga room or meditation space? can I pay for a pass to the lounge?) or looking up the least busy times to visit popular attractions (visiting the museum at 9 a.m. before the rest of the city is awake? sure, why not!)
Stay grounded with routine
To maintain a sense of stability and comfort in an unfamiliar environment, I try to stick to my usual morning routine while I’m traveling. Since so much about solo travel can be unpredictable—new environments, new schedules, new stimuli—incorporating familiar elements of my daily routine acts as an anxiety-reducing anchor and provides a calming start to my day.
For me, this means I do the same things I’d do at home on any given morning while I’m away:
Step into my slippers
Head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and take my medication
Connect to my Bluetooth speaker and put on a soothing playlist
Pour myself a glass of water with lemon and a dash of sea salt
Have a protein bar
Play my daily NYT games (Wordle, Connections, Strands, and the Mini)
Stretch
Have a cup of coffee while I get ready
Go get a real breakfast
Packing travel-sized versions of the things that I’d usually use as part of my morning routine at home puts me at ease and ensures that my personal needs are met each morning, which offers a sense of control when I’m in a new environment.
Social situations and communication
Communicate clearly
I mean this in a few different ways.
First, if you’re traveling to a place where English is not the primary language, learn a few key phrases in the local tongue to make miscommunications less likely during your stay. Even just knowing how to say hello, please, thank you, goodbye, and do you speak English? demonstrates to locals that you’re putting in an effort, and it can also be super empowering to feel like you can communicate across international divides.
Second, consider preparing scripts for common social interactions—in the local language maybe, but also in English! Think: asking for directions or recommendations, ordering food or drinks, checking in or out of your accommodations, etc.
Third and perhaps most importantly, advocate for yourself and communicate your needs to others throughout your travels! If you’re staying in a hotel, let the staff know in advance if you’d like a quieter room or any special accommodations. don’t be afraid to ask for help or clarification if you’re feeling confused or overwhelmed. And practice clear and direct communication as often as possible, especially when you’re navigating cultural differences.
Set (and stick to) boundaries
I try to set these with anyone I meet during my travels and with myself, as it’s really the only way to avoid overwhelm and burnout during a trip. I determine what I have the energy to do for the day, then once I’ve done that, I give myself downtime to recover without feeling guilty or like I “should” be out doing something. A few important ways I do that:
I prepare a few scripted options in the Notes app on my phone with polite ways to decline invitations or exit social situations early (for example: “Thank you so much for the invitation but I’m not able to make it. I hope you have a great time!” or “I’ve had a great time, but I’m going to head out. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening!”)
If I meet someone during my stay and we make plans together, I let them know in advance what my signal or “safe word” will be if I need to excuse myself because I’m overstimulated or my social battery runs out (mine is usually “banana hammock,” because I’m a child)
Ultimately, I make an intentional effort to prioritize activities that align with my comfort zone and my goals for the trip at hand rather than feeling pressured to “do it all” while I’m away so I return home relaxed and refreshed after my travels end. JOMO, not FOMO!
Embracing solo travel can be empowering, especially for travelers with autism and/or ADHD
Traveling alone offers you the freedom to explore the world on your own terms. It gives you the opportunity to create a travel experience that works for your needs, your interests, and your energy levels—one that respects your boundaries and allows you to fully enjoy the adventure however feels right for you.
My top tip for traveling solo as a neurodivergent adventurer? Trust yourself. Trust in your ability to navigate the world, knowing that you have all the tools and strategies you need to make each journey a success.
If you’re an avid traveler who’s also neurodivergent, I’d love to hear from you. What are some of your tips for traveling solo? What are some experiences you’ve had or lessons you’ve learned along the way? Share your thoughts in the comments, or feel free to shoot me a message if you have any questions.
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