A Whimsical Travelogue on the Joys and Peeves of Flying Solo
Reader, beware; this isn’t your regular sunshine-and-rainbows travel memoir by one of those pretentious travel influencers marketing you an Instagrammable dream vacay. Rather, this is a raw, honest-to-heart introspective account of a regular guy doing irregular things.
Debut author Indrajeet Moré looks back on the whirlwind of solo trips he spent exploring the length and breadth of India as a nineteen-year-old backpacker, or, dare I say, brokepacker. He starts off by talking about how the power of randomness drives our lives, often causing things to fall into place in ways that surprise us.
‘Why solo travel?’ some of you may ask. Indrajeet offers a compelling explanation: Individually, people are sharp and full of independent thought, but together their collective intelligence seems to dilute into a less insightful version of itself. Their actions become something none of them would choose alone.
From the pristine beaches of Gokarna to the palaces of Jaipur, the colourful Portuguese houses of Goa to the French settlements of Pondicherry, and the backwaters of Alleppey to the hills of Shillong, his evocative writing transports the reader, bringing to life the sights, sounds, and above all, the soul of each place. Along the way, he shares some of his wildest experiences, be it firing a traditional rifle into the sky or trying exotic insects, while also finding beauty in the mundane, whether it’s observing rocks, spotting birds, or collecting perfect sticks during hikes.
He pours empathy into each chapter by connecting with the people he meets on a human level. His background as a Philosophy major clearly shows in his writing. At times, his reflections are profound, yet at others, they devolve into a rigmarole of existential overthinking, or as he self-awarely calls it, “mental masturbation.”
The book critiques how social media has commodified travel and put it on a pedestal by only serving the juicy part of the sandwich and painting an unrealistic picture. “What social media does to traveling is basically what porn does to sex.” Truer words have never been uttered.
Beyond the good, he doesn’t shy away from the bad and the ugly. He opens up his vulnerable side to us readers, revealing how he felt disillusioned and overwhelmed in some destinations. But it’s exactly this intellectual honesty that makes the book click. As much as he excitedly details his experiences frolicking in the tribal celebrations of Nagaland’s Hornbill Festival, he melancholically recounts witnessing discrimination amid Benares’ cremation pyres.
What I appreciate the most about this book is the way the author makes peace with the obvious fact that not every trip is going to be life-changing and that the very purpose of travelling is entirely defeated when we expect a drastic revelation out of it.
Solo travel is all about stepping out of your zone and trying new stuff. “The more we travel, the more we discover newer versions of ourselves.”