Where the Ladies At? - The Disconcerting Absence of Solo Women in Van Life
One disconcerting thing I’ve noticed since transitioning to van life is how few solo women there are outside in the world. I almost never see solo women doing van life. I also rarely see women hiking alone, walking alone, dining alone, or pretty much doing anything alone. I see my fair share of couples on trails and in camper lots. I also see a lot of solo men doing sports or groups of men doing god knows what.
But - where the ladies at?
Observations from Abroad: Morocco and Portugal
In Morocco, it was very rare to see women out solo or even in groups. When dusk approached all the cafes and streets were lined with dudes, not a woman in sight.
Now that I am back in Portugal I can’t help but notice the same thing just on a scaled-down version. Women seem comfortable shopping alone, grocery shopping, or running errands but beyond that the world seems off-limits unless accompanied by their partner.
The Fear Factor: Why Aren't Women Going Solo?
Why is that? Are y’all scared to do things alone?
If so, I get it. Men, especially groups of men, have given themselves a bad reputation over the centuries. But that’s no excuse to deny yourself the pleasure of the great outdoors - or embark on your van life journey ( as long as you proceed with a little bit of common sense because men still be cray no matter where you are in the world.)
My Experience with Fear and Precaution
The past two nights there was nobody around the area I chose to park for a night which kind of creeped me out but I didn’t let it stop me. I wanted to wake up surrounded by nature not in a brightly lit gas station parking lot designated for camper vans. I did however take some precautionary measures. Both nights I walked around the area prior to settling in to make sure there weren’t any groups of sketchy men lingering about. The first night there was a group of guys fishing together. They had a small dog with them, a factor that somehow put me at ease and made them seem less harmful.
Last night there was a large shirtless man who pulled up and parked beside me for a while. I contemplated leaving but he eventually left on his own.
I doubt male van lifers pace around their area before deciding whether to settle in for the night. But I digress.
Sleepless Nights and Adrenaline Jolts
Both of these nights I didn’t sleep all that well because, well, I was on edge. I had never stayed somewhere so remote before.
The first night I woke up with a jolt of adrenaline, a frenetic aura surrounding me. I was suddenly hyper-aware of every breath and ounce of blood circulating through my veins. Then I saw headlights, a car slowly passed mine, and then turned around and passed again.
“Should I leave and head to a well-lit parking lot?” If I left, I rationed, I wouldn’t be able to wake up to a lake view and slowly sip my cacao as I gently ease into the day. The car left and didn’t return so I soothed myself back to sleep.
An hour or so later though, I woke up again, this time convinced that I’d heard footsteps near my van. I sat in the dark for a while, my heart racing. But then I had a thought, I could just look out the window and see for myself. I did, and there was not a soul in sight. I must have dreamt it or perhaps I was tapping into the collective belief that women are fragile and should remain indoors where it’s “safe”. I managed to fall back asleep and wake up feeling refreshed. As I’d hoped, the view was magnificent. What a shame it would have been if I had let my fears get the best of me. But what an even bigger shame it is that it’s 2024 and I still have to choose between being alive and feeling alive.
A Call to Action: Reclaiming Our Place in Nature
That being said, I’d like to encourage any woman reading this to do more outdoor shit alone. How cool would it be to pull up to a campsite and park next to a solo woman with gray-streaked hair and faded tattoos? How refreshing would it be to ask a middle-aged goddess on a hiking trail where the waterfall is? If more of us got out there and did stuff, other women would feel safe to join in on the fun, and then more of us would get to experience what it means to feel at one with nature… and truly alive.
Our collective and very valid fear of men has robbed us of our ability to enjoy our lives and the splendor of nature. Let’s reclaim that joy :)
So, where ya headed, wild thing?
Yesterday I Was Happy, Today I Am Successful
Every so often I give myself a hard time. I make myself feel bad about not developing enough sellable skills that will make me more successful in the eyes of capitalism or spending all my money on plane tickets. Or I beat myself up about not having a 401k, a Master’s degree, or an age-appropriate wardrobe.
But today - today I feel successful. Let me tell you why.
After walking an hour towards a secret beach, I had to turn around and walk back in the same direction. The final twenty minutes of the journey happened to be alongside a swampy river I deemed “Crocodile Soup River” for its ominous overgrowth and precarious nature - and I just didn’t feel safe enough to venture onward. When I finally reached the main pathway to Quepos, a no-frills working-class city outside of the touristic zone and national park, I decided to take a break and sat down on a concrete bench overlooking the beach. I was on the second day of my period and bleeding quite heavily. In fact, I had already bled through my jean shorts. Normally I take it easy on the first few days of my flow for this exact reason but alas, I was in Costa Rica and wanted to explore every nook and cranny while I could (except for maybe the Crock Soup River.)
As I sat there and looked out at the horizon, I began to contemplate my life and felt overcome with happiness at the dream I had made a reality. I had been fantasizing about coming to Costa Rica for a while and in true Nicole fashion I could not just go for one or two weeks. I had to stay there for at least a month so I could feel like I truly lived there. And oh how much fun I had already been having just one week in.
Just as I began to scribble my happy thoughts in my journal, however, two adolescent girls, probably 11 or 12 sat down right next to me. I found it odd considering the bench directly next to us was completely empty. But then, I realized that they were actually acting very nervous. They were constantly glancing towards the right and then talking rapidly to one another.
I sensed their nervousness and said, “Are you ok?” They responded, in Spanish, that they didn’t speak any English. With my little knowledge of Spanish, I gathered that they were trying to hide from the man in a blue shirt, who happened to be sitting several benches down. My mama bear instinct kicked in and I quickly pulled out my translator app out and typed out, “Do you need me to walk you somewhere?”
“No, we are waiting for our ride,” one of the girls mentioned. At least that’s what I understood. Then one of them received a phone call and I inferred that their ride was close by. A few minutes later they stood up to leave and they said goodbye. I made eye contact and blew them an affirmative kiss. Though we couldn’t speak the same language they seemed to understand that I was telling them to be safe.
I already had plans to go to dinner so I stood up after them. That’s when I saw a man in a blue shirt a few benches down also stand up and begin following them from a distance.
So I did what any mama bear would do and I began to follow the man in the blue shirt who was following the girls. Though he was creepy I didn’t feel afraid of him. I could have easily kicked him in the nutsack and been on my merry way. My priority was on making sure the girls got to wherever they were going.
I had my phone clutched in my right hand as I sauntered slowly behind the blue-shirt man. Though my battery was low and I had no idea what the emergency hotline was in Costa Rica, I felt safe with my phone clutched tightly. I guess the blue shirt man started to suspect I was following him and perhaps he thought I was calling for backup. I didn’t want any trouble so I quickly crossed the street, my eye still on the girls far in front of me. The man glanced at me several times before stopping completely and sitting on a concrete slab in front of the bus station.
The girls were far enough ahead that I felt confident enough to let them continue on their own. I tucked away into the restaurant and let myself process what just happened.
What just happened is that two young girls, who could have been my children had I chosen to have them at a young age, felt that I was a safe haven for them, a place where they could seek shelter from a creepy man. And I must say I felt rather accomplished with this awareness.
Sure I don’t own a house. Every cent I save goes to fund my next adventure. I’ve been called every version of cheap you can imagine but I’ve seen more countries in the last year than most Americans will see in their entire lives. I also don’t have a family of my own. I never really wanted kids in my 20s because I was afraid they’d interfere with my nomadic lifestyle. A few years ago, however, like many women in their late thirties, I began wondering if I should have children. When my long-term partnership ended last year, I had to come to terms with the fact that I may never become a mom. And I’m not going to lie, it makes me sad sometimes, but I think that’s only because I haven’t heard of many (or any) women in their late thirties, or early forties who are living amazing lives, who are thriving, are fit and glowing and feeling fulfilled - and don’t have children.
But what I learned today is that though I am not a mom of my own kids, I can be a mom to the world. I can be a safe haven for anyone who needs reprieve at the moment. I can be that for others because I have learned to be that for myself. Traveling the world has built a kind of inner resilience and strength that is hard to come by otherwise. So while I may not own a house or have a pension, I know how to get myself and others out of some precarious situations, like avoiding becoming a Crocodile’s soufflé of the day or um, getting kidnapped.
I also know how to live.
Yesterday I hiked to several beaches before landing at one that was straight out of a magazine. As I was laying in the sand praying that I was not bleeding through my swimsuit onto the towel I snuck from my Airbnb, these words popped into my head, “This is the happiest day of my life, I am so happy right now.”
And it was true. Pura vida.