LadyTrvlr Nomadic Wanderlust

"Seeing The World Through My Eyes"


  • I Write for Women.
    But Truth Has No Filter.

    By LadyTrvlr  ·  Solo Travel  ·  The Second Chapter

    I wrote a piece recently about never stopping wanting to go — about that pull that lives in your chest long before your feet ever find the door. I wrote it for women. I wrote it for us. The ones who pack light and carry everything. The ones who go anyway.

    I didn’t expect a gentleman friend of mine living abroad to read it. I didn’t expect him to sit with it. But he did. And what he sent back stopped me mid-scroll.

    “I read your story but I cannot comment unless I create an account. I thought it was really good. Makes me think of maybe traveling alone. You are lucky because you are a pretty woman and that attracts people to you. Me not so lucky. People see their grandfather.”

    He lost his wife recently. He’s in that quiet, cavernous space that loss creates — the one where the future used to live. And here he was, reading about wandering, about going, about the kind of freedom that doesn’t ask your age before it opens the door.

    I sat with his words for a moment. Not because they stung — but because I recognized them. Not the grandfather part. But the other part. The part underneath it.

    ·  ·  ·

    We both face the same invisible wall. The one that whispers: this wasn’t made for you. ~ LadyTrvlr

    ·  ·  ·

    As a woman — a Black woman — moving solo through the world, I have been underestimated in airports, overlooked in lobbies, and made to feel like an anomaly in spaces I had every right to occupy. The road has not always rolled out its welcome mat. I have had to claim my seat at the table of adventure the same way I’ve claimed everything else in my life: by showing up anyway and refusing to shrink.

    He sees a grandfather in the mirror. I have sometimes been made to feel like a curiosity. Different walls. Same architect.

    The road does not care about your age. It does not care about your reflection. It does not require a certain look, a certain background, a certain story to get started. What it requires is the willingness to go.

    In 39+ countries and islands, I have crossed paths with solo travelers of every age, every background, every chapter of life. Men traveling alone in their 60s, 70s, even 80s — backpacks on, passports stamped, living fully and without apology. Some staying in hostels. Some in luxury. Most somewhere beautifully in between. What they all had in common was this: they went.

    ·  ·  ·

    The only time you will know what you have been missing is when you actually go. ~ LadyTrvlr

    ·  ·  ·

    So I wrote him back. I told him that his life experience doesn’t make him invisible — it makes him interesting. That the stories a well-traveled older man carries into a conversation are the kind people lean in for. That there are entire communities built for people exactly where he is right now — Facebook groups for solo travelers over 50, for those who have lost a spouse and are rediscovering life through travel, for like-minded adventurers who are done waiting for permission.

    And I told him the most important thing I know to be true:

    ·  ·  ·

    Do it in her honor. See the world you may have talked about seeing together. Travel until the very end — because the people I’ve met who do? They have no regrets. ~ LadyTrvlr

    ·  ·  ·

    I write for women. That is my lane, my calling, my community. But I shared this moment because it reminded me of something I never want to forget — and I don’t want you to forget it either.

    When you tell your truth out loud, it reaches further than you planned. It finds the people who needed it in the exact form you gave it. Not a curated version. Not a polished pitch. Your actual truth.

    He wasn’t my target audience. But he was moved. And in being moved, he reminded me why we tell our stories at all — not just to be seen, but to give someone else permission to see themselves differently.

    Sis, keep writing. Keep going. Keep telling the truth about what this life on the road actually looks like — the freedom, the fear, the discovery, the days when you eat alone at a table for one and feel like the luckiest person alive.

    Your story has more reach than you know.

    — LadyTrvlr

    39+ Countries  ·  Still Going  ·  Writing for Women Who Wander

  • I Never Stopped Wanting to Go.

    This is a reintroduction.
    I started traveling in 2008, lived abroad for years at a time, and now I’m getting ready to board another plane—this time, bringing you with me.


    It started in 2008. My son had just left for college, and for the first time in years—maybe ever—I had permission to want something just for me. I didn’t book a resort. I didn’t plan a group trip. I bought a one-way ticket and went. That was the beginning.

    But if I’m being honest, the desire started long before 2008. It started at 18, when the United States Navy put me on a plane and sent me to the Philippines for six months. I was barely grown, standing in a world that looked nothing like the one I came from—and I fell in love. Not with a person. With the feeling. The feeling of being somewhere else. And that six months didn’t stay in one place. From the Philippines, I traveled with my fellow sailors to Iwakuni, Japan for a week — then we flew to Hong Kong for a day just to shop. One day in Hong Kong. Long enough to realize people actually live like this. The world was so much bigger than I’d been told, and I wanted all of it.

    From 2008 to 2022, I traveled almost uninterrupted. No home base. No return date. Just movement. Then life shifted — as it does — and I found myself moving between the States and abroad, back and forth, but always choosing to stay as long as I possibly could. Months and years at a time. Two solid years once in Mexico. A stretch of beach life in Cabarete, Dominican Republic that still calls to me. I wasn’t visiting -I was living.

    Then my son graduated from college and started stepping into his full adulthood, and the mom in me — the part that will always show up — needed to be present for that transition. So I came back. And I stayed. Longer than I planned. Longer than felt natural for a woman like me with strong wanderlust burning inside her. And somewhere in the middle of all that staying, I started to feel what I can only describe as a slow dimming – the particular ache of knowing exactly who you are, and living somewhere that isn’t it.

    · · ·

    Here’s the truth about that time away: the desire never left. That’s the thing nobody tells you about travel when it gets into your blood this deep. It doesn’t go away because you stopped. It doesn’t fade because life got complicated. It just waits. Patient. Certain. Like it knows you’re coming back.

    And they’re right when they say it’s like riding a bike. The moment you buy the ticket—not when you land, not when you pack, but when you click purchase—your body remembers. The nerves and the excitement blur into one, and just like that, you’re yourself again.

    Yes, things have changed since 2008. Entry requirements. Visa rules. The apps we use, the way we book, the platforms we navigate. But the core of it — the part that matters — that hasn’t changed at all. The world is still generous to the woman who shows up curious and open. The table is still set. The invitation is still open.


    It was permission—to choose myself. To trust that the life I imagined wasn’t fantasy, but direction. And once I understood that, everything changed.

    So here’s where I am right now: handling business stateside, wrapping up some personal chapters that need to close before I can open the next one. Come June — and it’s a BIG, special birthday — I’m on a plane heading back overseas. No resort. No group tour. No Instagram-optimized itinerary designed to impress you. Just me, my passport, my eyes wide open, sailing on the open seas, and a commitment to share everything I see through the only lens I know — mine.

    Everywhere I go, I look for the same three things:
    Culture. Community. Cuisine.

    3Cs. Culture. Community. Cuisine. In every country I’ve ever visited — across 39 of them now — those three things have been the heartbeat. They’re what make a place real. They’re what make you feel like a guest, not a tourist. And they’re what I’ll be bringing you, up close, on the ground, from wherever I land next.

    If you’re new here: welcome. I’m Tonii — and my travel friends call me LadyTrvlr. US Navy veteran, mother, nomad—and proof that you don’t need a budget that matches your dreams. Just the willingness to go. I’ve stayed in hostels and been hosted by strangers who became family. I’ve done language courses in foreign cities, volunteered in exchange for accommodations, and eaten the best meals of my life for under five dollars from a street cart in a country most people can’t point to on a map.

    If I can do it, you can do it. That’s always been the point. That’s still the point.

    The wait is almost over. June is coming. And I have a feeling — the same feeling I had in 2008 when I bought that first ticket — that everything is about to get very good.

    @ladytrvlr

  • TIPS……VERIFY YOUR EXCURSION DESTINATION AND DURATION…… IN ADVANCE!!!!!

    I’m here in Mexico…  off to a so so o.k. start.

    Upon coming to Mexico I find out about a hot springs destination in the northern mountains outside of Mexico City.  I looked on their website for information and studied the hotel info to reserve one of the room types with a balcony for $800 pesos overlooking one of the water attractions.  I also check the website and it says 3.45 hrs from the city.  Normally I don’t do far away excursions on my trips if I’m only planning to be in a city for less than three days.  My normal plan and goal is to see “that” city and the history and culture it has to offer.  So I went with another new local expat from the USA.  Boy were we in for a surprise. is high up in the north mountains of the State Department of Hidalgo, Mexico.  It’s a 3-4 hour, air conditioner bus ride from the central bus station, Central Norte.  We took the Ovnibus for $165 pesos each way to a town at the bottom of the mountain called #Ixmiquilpan.

    After exiting the bus you have an option to walk through the small town to the next shuttle area that will take you up the mountain.  This is about a 15 minute walk.  You will pass many local shops selling helado (Ice cream), household items, clothes, electronics and of course the entrance works getting here this late.  “$140 pesos por favor para entrada” the man tell to everyone on the bus.  Now, I know a good bit of Spanish, albeit rusty, so you gotta speak a bit slower for me to understand.  I pay and go in to the let off point.  Whew, I’m ready to get to a room and cool then check this place out.e… Local Mexican food, inexpensively.    If walking isn’t your thing, you can take a “colectivo” (taxi/bus) to the shuttle for $10 pesos.  Once there you will wait a bit till there enough people to almost full the bus and head out.  This is an additional one and a half hour ride to the top.   What was interesting, there are local people getting off going to their homes along the way, just like a regular city bus.  After falling asleep and waking back up right before the steep, winding downgrade to the main entrance…my heart couldn’t take the vertigo view down below. My head was spinning.

    Finally, we are here.  A total of 6 hours later.  THAT IS NOT WHAT THE WEBSITE NOR YOUTUBE VIDEOS OR BLOGS SAID that I read.  I was not happy.  Really? Really?  Day’s gone, sun is setting and not sure how the entrance works getting here this late.  “$140 pesos por favor para entrada” the man tell to everyone on the bus.  Now, I know a good bit of Spanish, albeit rusty, so you gotta speak a bit slower for me to understand.  I pay and go in to the let off point.  Whew, I’m ready to get to a room and cool then check this place out.

    —— NO CAMAS DISPONSIBLE!!!! —–

    Huh?  Did I understand this correctly?  No rooms?  By now, the su n is gone, there’s a slight cool in the air and… #LadyTrvlr isn’t a great friend to the cold.

    ———– Tienda/Camping!!! ———–

    ¿DISCUPLE?   I’m not prepared to camp out in a tent.  Although I’m no stranger to camping and in a tent, today wasn’t that time.  NOT to mention, we’re in the mountains in Mexico… It gets cold and the journey I’m on is to find warmer weather and great water throw in some great culture and community experiences.  Well this is starting to be some type of experience.

      —- REMEMBER #Ladytrvlr’s slogan —–
    “SEEING THE WORLD THROUGH MY EYES!!”

    So what did we do.. “Adapt and Overcome”.  We rented a tent and blanket and parked right next to the hot springs river.  It wasn’t all bad til I realized I left my #passport on the bus…  Stay tuned for that story.  It’s not complete yet.

    Time for dinner.  Chicken Enchiladas, with a shot of JoseCuervo.  I needed it.  We charged our phones and went to sleep.

  • The hiatus is over!

    The time has finally come and my hiatus is over.

    Can you guess where I’m headed…? I’ll be collecting 10 stamps in 3 months.

    CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICA BABEEEEE.

    First leg, Greyhound to airport. It’s amazing how using a credit card to pay your monthly expenses would translate into free flights and bus rides or reduced flights and bus rides. #paidinadvance

    Stay connected here of course and all things #LadyTrvlr on most social media platforms. In case you forgot:

    LadyTrvle Travel FB Page
    #LadyTrvlrNomadicWanderlust

    Web:
    Www.ladytrvlr.wordpress.com

    @LadyTrvlr
    Twitter
    Instagram

    I may be rusty in my first few posting, however, I hope you will stick with me. I promise it’ll get better. Please, feel free to share my stories.

    LADYTRVLR
    “Seeing The World Through My Eyes”