Solo Traveling – Mykonos Dinner

Written by Joni Roberts

Traveler, storyteller, and public health advocate

When my nephew once asked my preferred way to travel, I didn’t hesitate: solo.

On a trip to Guatemala a few years ago my nephew asked me my preferred way to travel. Solo, I responded without hesitation. My sister was confused. But for me, solo travel means I can do what I want, when I want. It also means I’m more likely to get invited to things I wouldn’t if I were in a group.

Fast forward to Greece, I’m on the island of Mykonos. The concierge tells me that the hotel next door has a traditional Greek dinner with plate smashing. Intrigued, I make a reservation for one.

I arrive, and the host asks if I want the table upfront. No, I say immediately, thinking of my time at the Greek wedding show. I don’t want to stand out—being alone and sitting in the front. So she moves me to a side table.

The servers welcome me warmly, but the manager seems concerned that I’m alone at this “lonesome” table. He frequently checks on me throughout the night, saying, “You’re so quiet.”

And I wonder: what exactly was I supposed to do? I’m by myself at a table for one. Was I meant to be loud and boisterous? To be fair, there was a wedding party there, so maybe he expected me to join them.

But nonetheless, he kept checking: “You’re still quiet,” he said, and I smiled. When it was time to break plates, he gave me many extra plates to break. Then the fireworks and the party began, and he took care of me—bringing drinks and desserts all on the house—while still noting my quiet presence.

At the end of the night, we hugged and he said one more time: “You were too quiet, even when you got up to dance.”

Why was my quietness so remarkable?

• Was it because I was solo?

• Was it because I was Black?

• Or was it simply that he equated quietness with discomfort?

There was another solo traveler at the table initially offered to me—a white man. I don’t know if he received the same scrutiny. But I suspect not.

It was an odd but memorable night. Traveling solo continues to invite both curiosity and projection—sometimes admiration, sometimes confusion, and sometimes free dessert. I’ll take all three.

Thus concludes today’s notes. Back to observing the dance of solo travel.

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