I’m Rach — a woman who somewhere in her forties decided the way most of us travel wasn’t working for her anymore.
I used to move through trips the way I moved through everything else: fast, efficient, ticking things off. It took me a long time to notice that I wasn’t actually in any of it — that I could stand in front of something extraordinary and feel almost nothing, because I was already thinking about the next thing on the list.
So I stopped. Not travelling — just the rushing. I started staying longer in fewer places, letting mornings be slow, letting a city introduce itself instead of demanding it perform for me. Spain undid me a little — Madrid’s quiet mornings, Seville in the heat, Córdoba’s narrow streets holding centuries at once. Puglia did something similar, in its own unhurried way. Places like that don’t hand you anything if you’re moving too fast to receive it.
Wandering Rach is where I write about what I’ve learned since — not as an expert, but as a woman who’s done the work of figuring it out for herself, one slow trip at a time.
Before this, I spent years in aviation, which taught me more about logistics, patience, and reading a room than almost anything since. Before that, luxury retail, which is where I learned that the details people don’t consciously notice are usually the ones doing the most work. I studied Communications — PR, journalism, marketing — which is the quiet backbone of everything I write here, even when it doesn’t look like it.
I travel solo, mostly. Not because I couldn’t travel any other way, but because I’ve come to genuinely love who I become when it’s just me and a place, with no one else’s pace to keep. I write for the women who are curious about that — who suspect there’s a version of travel that’s slower, richer, and entirely their own, but haven’t quite given themselves permission to try it yet.
This isn’t a highlight reel. It’s an honest account of what slow, solo travel actually feels like — the good mornings and the harder ones, the meals worth staying for, the quiet confidence that builds when you stop needing anyone else’s company to feel complete.
If any of that sounds like the trip you’ve been putting off, you’re in the right place. I’m glad you’re here.
