The Pink Door Moments That Make Solo Travel Worth It

People think meaningful travel comes from big moments, the kind you plan for, experience, and remember as highlights. But some of the days that stay with you the longest don’t look like much at all.

In this episode, I share a day trip to Awaji Island with a friend and her family,  a day that wasn’t supposed to be particularly exciting. It included small stops, simple meals, and moments that didn’t seem significant on their own.

And yet, by the end of it, the day felt full in a way that’s hard to explain.

This episode explores what actually makes a day feel meaningful, and how solo travel can deeper the experiences we have with other people..

If you’ve ever wondered whether travel always needs to be big or impressive to matter, this might change how you think about it.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

As I was walking back to the car from Ayuya Waterfall on Awaji Island, I noticed something strange in the distance. There was a bright pink door standing alone in the middle of a field. It wasn't attached to a building or part of any structure. All there was was a door. So naturally, I had to go and see what it was doing there. Most women think solo travel is about being brave or fearless, but it's really about letting go of the expectations holding you in place. This show is about what changes when you stop waiting and take yourself seriously, starting with intentional travel. I'm Damian and this is Freedom Looks Like This. Let's get started. When I first arrived to stay with my friend near Kobe, she kept mentioning a day trip she had planned. She brought it up lightly at first, almost a little apologetic. She had done some research and thought we could go to Awaji Island for a day trip, but she wasn't sure how exciting it would be. She told me that before I left Prague and in multiple conversations since then. Part of her concern, I think, was my travel history. I've now traveled to 76 countries, and when people hear that number, they sometimes assume my expectations must be very high. The other reason she was hesitant is that I had technically already been to Awaji Island earlier in the trip. But when I had gone before, I was there for something very specific. I stayed in a hotel, worked during the day, and I spent my free time going on hopping. I walked between different onsen, soaked in the bath, and just enjoyed that slow pace. It was a wonderful experience, but it was also quite focused. I saw parts of Owaji through the bus window. I definitely saw the landscape and the ocean, but I hadn't spent time wandering around it. So when she suggested Owaji Island, my reaction was simple. I said, Owaji sounds great. The moment we actually talked about the plan in more detail was the night before. We were sitting at a small Indonesian restaurant near her home, and we ended up just talking for a while. To be honest, my friend and I always talk a lot when we were together. We talk about life and work, about the decisions we're making, about things we're still figuring out. And the conversations don't really follow a straight line. They move and circle and they come back again. But at some point during dinner, she went through the plan for the next day. She told me there might be a park and that there are many roadside rest stops that she'd read about. There are these roadside stops that I've always liked. There's usually food, small shops, just enough to wander a bit. In some cases, there's a shrine. She wasn't sure exactly what we would find at the park, but I didn't feel the need to change anything. The plan sounded like a perfectly good way to spend the day. So on Sunday morning, I stayed home, getting a bit of work done, having breakfast, and getting ready. My friend's son had tennis lessons that morning, so they left early and came back sometime after 9. And not long after that, we all got in the car and we headed to Owaji Island. Her husband was driving, their son was in the front seat. He was very pleased with himself because he was sitting where his mom usually sits, and my friend and I were in the back. And we did what we usually do. We talked, we laughed, we enjoyed each other's company. I don't remember exactly what we talked about now, but I remember the feeling of it. It's two friends catching up, sharing thoughts, reflecting on the things that have happened in our lives. It's the kind of conversation that flows really easily when you've known someone for a long time. Because we've been friends for over 15 years. Our first stop was near the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge. I had seen it when I went to Awashi before, but only from a distance. This was the first time I was standing right beside it. Close enough to really appreciate it. And I remember thinking almost immediately, I love this view. Even though it wasn't new to me, I've seen places like this before, but I still really liked this one. Sometimes you just look at a place and think, yes, this is beautiful. There were a few large concrete sinkers along the promenade by the water, and at one point my friend's husband took a running start and jumped onto one of them. It looked quite athletic and a little bit ridiculous at the same time. And it turned out that the surface was really slippery. Of course, the son wanted to try to, but he is still small, so it became a group effort. His dad pulled him from the front and I gave him a boost from behind, and eventually he made it up. By that point, we were all laughing. While we were standing there looking at the water, my friend pointed out a young couple nearby who were being very affectionate with each other. She thought it was cute, and so we joked that she should create the same romantic scene with her husband, and I would take the photo. And after a while, we realized we were getting hungry, so we went over to the rest area nearby. We had burgers made from awaji beef and fried onions made from the famous Owaji onions. We walked around the little shopping area for a bit before heading to the next stop. And the next stop turned out to be one of the oldest shrines in Japan. And the day kept unfolding from there. The shrine was another moment. I remember arriving and immediately noticing the statues at the entrance. They're kind of lion dog figures that always feel slightly mythical. In fact, I think they are mythical. They have a presence to them, like they're watching everything that comes and goes. I always pause when I see them. We all bowed as we went under the Tori. There weren't that many people around, but there was something special happening inside when we arrived. There was a family of four with a baby and a toddler, and they were there for some kind of ceremony. And as part of that ceremony, there was a dance taking place. I felt really thankful to be able to see this dance that was clearly a form of worship. You don't need to organize everything in advance for something meaningful to happen. Sometimes you just arrive somewhere at a fortuitous time and something is already happening. Something interesting or something delightful. We all got fortunes while we were there, and mine was good, not excellent, like the Sun's, which he was very pleased about. But when I read mine and I read his, my details actually sounded more positive than his, which I thought was really funny. It became this kind of absurd comparison where we were both convinced our fortune was better in different ways. And then our final stop at the temple was a small shop on the grounds. And we didn't buy anything except my friend noticed that they sold amazake, and I'd never had it before, I hadn't even heard of it before. She told me it was non-alcoholic, so I wasn't surprised by the flavor. But I was surprised how sweet it was. It's like a warm, slightly thick comfort drink made of rice, and there are little pellets of rice in there as well. It does not sound that great when I say it, but it was actually quite delicious. I was joking afterwards that I would love to add some cinnamon in there. It was a wonderful drink to have on a cold day. So that stop didn't have any dramatic moments, but it did with me. There were so many precious moments. Maybe just looking at one of them, it doesn't seem so significant, but somehow they accumulated even small things like helping him climb up or comparing our fortunes, added up to an experience that's really hard for me to describe. And now I have to tell you about the pink door. My friend knows that I love waterfalls, and so she added a waterfall to our itinerary. And I didn't notice the pink door right away. It was only as we were walking back towards the parking lot after the waterfall that it came into view. Kind of off in the distance, in the middle of an empty field. It looked so out of place that it immediately drew my attention. And the closer we got, the stranger it felt. Like, what is a bright pink doll doing there standing on its own with no walls or building? My friend explained that it was probably inspired by Dorimon, which is a character with the magical door that can open anywhere. So of course, all four of us had to go through the magical door to see where we would end up. There was a small donation box on the table nearby, and it explained that the idea was to raise money to plant sunflowers in the field around the door. I like that little whimsical detail. Because it's so playful. Just a pink door in a field, that's it. And somehow that's enough to make me smile. I did put a small donation in the box without really thinking about it because it felt like a way of participating in something that was just fun. I remember that feeling of coming across something unexpected. And how for me that is such a joyful experience. It didn't even have to be meaningful, it just had to be kind of whimsical. There's something I've been sitting with since that day that it took me a while to notice. But as I think about it, it gets clearer. Because if I try to describe my day on Owaji with my friends in a simple way, it doesn't sound particularly remarkable. We didn't go anywhere that would usually be considered a must see. But yet, it didn't feel like the day was lacking anything. It was one of those days when nothing needed to be added. It was complete just as it was. And I've been trying to understand what makes a day feel like that. Because I've had other travel days that were much more structured and intentional. And they looked really impressive on paper. So what was it about that day that made it different? I think it's really about how the day unfolded. It was how we were in the moment. There was no pressure to accomplish anything. My friend had mentioned a few times that she wasn't sure if it would be exciting enough, and I can understand why she thought that. When you think about travel in the way it's often presented, there's this idea that the day needs to deliver something for us. Maybe something memorable or unique. Because then it really feels like the trip, like the travel was worth it. But it's possible to have a day with no pressure that also feels complete because you were fully in it. When you can be in the moment and not embodying it as it's happening, you start to notice different things about the day. You start to notice the small interactions, the moments where everyone is just slightly out of sync, and then we come together. Like that moment when we're helping my friend son climb the sinker. You notice the conversations that don't really go anywhere, they don't solve a problem, they don't lead to any great realizations, but they just feel good when you're having them. And just having a warm drink at the right moment can feel perfect. All of those are the types of things that get to shape an experience more than the plan itself. And I think that this is something I've learned through traveling on my own. When you spend time traveling solo, there's no shared plan that everyone is following. There's no need to coordinate decisions in the same way. So you start to build a different kind of relationship with your time. You learn how to sit in a moment longer and how to follow something that catches your attention, even if it doesn't end up leading anywhere specific. And you start to notice what is it that holds my attention when there's nobody else. All these parts of the story, they change how you move through your days, and it becomes less about what you're doing and about the experience that you're having. So when you spend time with other people, you might also notice that something shifts. Like I wasn't looking for the day to be more structured or more exciting. I wasn't relying on the plan to curate an experience for me. I was showing up and paying attention and noticing all of the little moments that just sparked little flares of joy. We were able to be together and savour the time with each other. There's something else I've been thinking about. There's this idea that solo travel and shared experiences are somehow separate. That you can either travel on your own and have that kind of independence, or you can travel with people and have a more social experience. I have people tell me all the time, oh I don't like traveling by myself because I need people to share things with. Or oh, I don't really travel with people because I find that annoying. But that hasn't been my experience. If anything, what I have found is that the two different ways of traveling, they inform each other. Traveling on my own has made me more comfortable with unstructured time. It's made me more aware of what I actually enjoy. And I look for those small unexpected moments of delight. And that doesn't mean that when I'm with other people, it goes away. Rather, bringing that perspective makes those shared experiences even richer. Because I can show up engaged in a moment with others, and that creates space for things to unfold naturally and for each of us to be ourselves. Then we can allow the day to take shape instead of trying to have a strict idea of what it must be. I noticed that in the way that I moved through the day. There wasn't a sense of rushing from one place to another. And even though we ended up doing quite a lot, it didn't feel packed. We got food when we were hungry. We saw a number of things because we were all exploring interest and compromising so that everybody had a fun time. We followed what was available in front of us rather than trying to optimize every moment. And the day was full but didn't feel too busy. When you say that traveling with people is different and you have somebody to share with, that's true. Traveling with other people and experiencing moments does feel different. When you're traveling solo, you experience everything directly, and there's a clarity in that. But when you're with others, there's an added layer. You're not just experiencing the place, but you're also experiencing how other people interact with it. The way the son was excited about small things, how my friend noticed details that I wasn't even paying attention to. Everybody having different reactions to the same moments. All of those add richness, they add layers. And that really expands the experience. It expands it in a different way from when you're alone. I think when I'm alone, it's more about where I am and how I'm feeling. And when I'm with others, it's more about how we're making sense of the place and how we're experiencing together. And I think that's something I've come to appreciate more over time. That it doesn't have to be one or the other. You don't have to choose between traveling alone and sharing experiences with each other. Do both. Have both. Take what you learn from one and bring it into the other. And in doing that, the experiences start to build on each other and they're less separate. So that day on Owaji Island didn't feel like a contrast to solo travel for me. It felt like a continuation, just in a different form. And so that's really what stayed with me. Yes, I have so many memories of all of these individual moments that we experienced. But somehow the sum of the parts is more than each of them individually. Because really they came together to create something that felt complete. And the day felt good, just as it was. What's dead with me is just noticing the days that already feel full. Without trying to change them or add anything to them. My invitation for you this week is to notice that the next time you're out somewhere, it could be traveling or just going through a regular day. Notice which moments you remember later. Which ones stick with you? It's not about the big ones or the small ones, but just noticing the ones that felt easy while you were with them and came back to you later. Thanks for spending time with me today. If something in this episode resonated, choose one small action from today and try it in whatever way feels doable for you. And if you want the simplest place to start, you can join my school community to build a bit of momentum.