Epilogue

What happened after the final chapter of 'Love at First Flight', my solo travel memoir

This is the epilogue of Love at First Flight, my memoir about finding connection while travelling alone around the world.

A tearful goodbye on a volcano in New Zealand tests everything I've learned about love, independence and staying true to myself.

---

One month later

It's 11pm and I can't sleep. I'm writing this in my journal from my bunkbed in this Auckland hostel, trying to process what happened.

I've just said goodbye to a guy I might be in love with. We spent three weeks travelling around New Zealand’s South Island together. A few days ago, we celebrated his birthday with dinner at a tapas restaurant next to the Sky Tower.

Now I may never see him again.

I’ll never forget the tears in his eyes. They caught me off guard as we sat on the summit of Mount Eden, the city spread below us like a glittering promise.

"Come with me," he said, his voice cracking. "To Sydney. We can keep travelling together."

I spent a year exploring the world alone. Now I’ve fallen for another backpacker who wanted to continue our journey together.

And I said no.

The view from above

I loved New Zealand. I loved its expansive blue skies. Its volcanoes that made me feel small and significant at the same time. I loved the community I was creating here, on the other side of the world from home. My friends from the hostel, my friends from work.

Even though I longed to stay, I declined the permanent job offer. Having the freedom to travel was too important to me now. Instead, I was looking for more temp work and researching visas so I could stay long term. I was building my new life here, one day at a time.

My favourite spot to reflect on things like this was at the top of Mount Eden, Auckland’s highest volcano, just a few steps from my hostel.

Earlier today, I brought Steeve here. We climbed the ancient grassy summit and sat on the edge of its crater. The city twinkled below us, the Sky Tower dominating the skyline while the harbour lingered in the distance. He loved it as much as I hoped he would. But even in such a beautiful place, the prospect of having to say goodbye overwhelmed him.

"I'll never meet anyone as amazing as you," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Come with me."

Steeve’s raw emotions and how openly he expressed them tugged at my heart. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for my answer.

Our view from Mount Eden that day.

A month of magic

Every part of me wanted to say yes. I loved travelling with him, how he made me laugh, made me think, made me feel. There was nothing stopping me from packing my bags and joining him on an amazing Australian adventure.

Our bus tour around New Zealand’s South Island had taken us to incredible places - rolling green hills as far as the eye could see and tranquil lakes so vivid blue we couldn’t believe they were real.

In Wanaka, we took one look at the willow tree growing impossibly in the middle of its vast lake and decided to stay for a while. Saying goodbye to our tour group friends, we hiked up nearby Mount Iron and admired the views. We got tipsy tasting wine at Rippon Vineyard on the shores of Lake Wanaka before swimming in its clear, cool waters. It was like a dream.

The willow tree in Wanaka lake when we were there.

After rejoining the bus tour, the same thing happened at Mount Cook a few stops later. New Zealand’s highest mountain is astonishingly beautiful. We couldn't bear to leave its enormous snow-capped peaks, so we found a little hostel to stay one more night.

Me during our hike in the incredible Mount Cook.

Returning to Auckland after the tour concluded, we took a boat trip to the nearby volcanic island of Rangitoto to ascend its black rocky slopes and venture into its lava caves.

We were always experiencing firsts together, always having adventures, always having fun. Any time we were apart, he was constantly on my mind.

The pull of romance

Sitting here with Steeve on the top of Mount Eden, I looked across the water to Rangitoto island. It had only been a couple of days earlier that we’d explored it, without a care in the world, refusing to think about this inevitable, painful moment of separation.

Today he was heading to the airport to leave the country. Catching the flight he booked before we even knew each other.

A year ago, his words would have swept me away. This was everything the old me wanted – passion, romance and a heartfelt invitation. I’d have said yes without hesitation, caught up in the beautiful drama of it all, abandoning my own path for the intoxicating promise of being someone's everything.

But I was no longer that anxious workaholic hoping the hole in my heart would be filled by a new job or a new lover. My solo travels had made me stronger, fuller.

I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined myself saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I knew by now to trust whatever feelings came up. The mountain supported my body. My breath was steady and deep. Even though my heart was torn, instinctively I knew the right thing to do.

"I can't," I heard myself say, surprised by how calm my voice sounded. "You need to go have the amazing solo trip you promised yourself. It wouldn’t be the same if I came with you. And I'm not ready to leave this place yet."

Steeve nodded slowly, understanding even through his disappointment. He must have known too, on some level, that this was how it needed to be. The dream couldn’t last forever. We sat in comfortable silence, watching the golden afternoon daylight fade over the city, until he turned to me.

“This is so you don’t forget me,” he said, handing me a necklace he’d carved himself at a workshop in New Zealand. Gently, he pulled it over my head and secured the cord, the bone symbol resting on my chest. “Wear this every day and think of me.”

“I’ll never forget you,” I replied, tears prickling my eyes now.

The goodbye

Hand-in-hand, we descended the winding path to the base of Mount Eden. Steeve collected his bags from my hostel, pulling on his huge backpack. Then we walked to the bus stop.

"This feels wrong," Steeve said as we reached it. "Saying goodbye."

"Maybe it's not goodbye," I said, meaning it. "It's see you later."

We had no idea if we'd ever see each other again. I'd met so many wonderful people on my journey around the world - deep yet fleeting connections. Often you need to accept that's all it will be, as people follow their own paths. Sooner or later, one of you will move on to a new destination.

We needed to keep the faith that if we were supposed to meet again, we would – somewhere in the world.

A month ago, we'd met at a bus stop by chance. Now we were parting at one by choice.

The bus rounded the corner, its headlights cutting through the gathering dusk. As Steeve climbed on board, he found a seat and looked at me through the window. I raised my hand to wave – the same gesture that had started this whole journey when I waved goodbye to my old life in London.

Steeve was right. This did feel wrong. I couldn’t believe we were parting like this. But I needed to trust my gut that it was right for both of us.

The bus pulled away, carrying him towards the airport and his next adventure. He was off to enjoy his own solo travel magic – the gift of learning to rely on himself, to trust his intuition, to be open to whatever the universe wanted to show him. The same transformation that had rebuilt me from the inside out.

I watched until the red taillights disappeared around the corner, then stood alone at the bus stop.

The path forward

Alone. The word that had once filled me with shame, as friends sent invitations to weddings and baby showers. Now it no longer bothered me. Travelling around the world alone had been the best year of my life.

I took a deep breath of the cool evening air and began the short walk past the shops to my hostel. Beyond, Mount Eden watched over the land as it had done for 28,000 years.

My friends were making dinner in the hostel kitchen or watching television like it was an ordinary day. But I wasn’t hungry and couldn’t concentrate on TV, so I made my excuses, went to the dorm room and lay on my bed.

Today had torn me apart. Part of me thought I was mad to let him leave.

Tomorrow I'd continue building my Auckland life – applying for temp positions, making new contacts, whatever felt right until my working holiday visa expired. Trusting that things would work out, one way or another. Ideas were already bubbling up – places to explore, stories to write, people to meet.

The full circle

Now, outside the dorm’s small window, I see stars dotting the indigo sky. The same stars I've seen from beaches, deserts and mountaintops in countries around the world. Each moment showing me that I’m part of this incredible connected universe.

Putting down my pen, I close my journal and reach for the switch to the small light fixture above my bed.

Then something catches my eye, like an iridescent rainbow. The new bracelet on my wrist. I bought it a few days ago, attracted by its coloured beads representing the seven chakras. My fingers touch the cool smoothness of each bead, one by one, as they catch the light.

The beaded bracelet circling my wrist.

The red bead, representing the root chakra I struggled with so much. For years I clung to my London corporate life in survival mode while it was slowly draining my joy. Then my first solo trips gave me a new sense of grounding.

Orange for the sacral chakra - the creativity, passion and emotional flow I rediscovered in India, that zest for life I’d missed so much.

Yellow for personal power in Thailand and Malaysia, where I found the courage and the fire I’d been suppressing all along without knowing it.

Green for love and connection in Bali, where I opened my heart to myself and others.

Blue for expression and truth in Australia and New Zealand, where I learned to speak my authentic self.

Indigo for intuition and wisdom in Chile, where I learned to honour my connection with mother earth and the universe, and to trust my inner knowing.

Finally, violet for spiritual connection in Brazil and Argentina, where I understood that the journey home was really the journey to wholeness.

And back here in New Zealand where everything came together, all these lessons integrating and weaving into my being.

Each bead tells the story of who I've become. The full, beautiful spectrum of colours, bright and balanced. Though I still don’t have all the answers. I don’t know exactly who I want to be or how I will get there. But I know all this will unfold in good time.

I switch off the light, already dreaming of tomorrow's adventures.

---

THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has followed, liked, shared or commented on my installments of Love at First Flight ❤️

It’s been so healing and rewarding for me to relive my amazing trip - all the incredible places I went to, experiences I had and people I met.

Next challenge: compile and publish this memoir as a book! Let me know if you prefer a paperback book, e-book or audio book - I’d love to know.